Yr Saldan continued up the stairs. The voices were becoming clearer now. Adult voices. Three by the sound of them.
He reached the landing, and drawing himself deeper into the shadow, peered cautiously down the short hallway to the children's cell. He could hear them clearly now. Two males, one of them Jem's voice. And one female voice.
His eyes narrowed. Jem was not fighting back; he seemed to be inviting the others into the cell! May the unrelenting waters of the sea take him! He was angry now, coldly angry. And the wine he had drunk gave him fool's courage.
Moving quickly down the hallway, he came up to where the female stood in front of the children talking to the other man and Jem. Jem's eyes went wide at his approach.
Saldan grabbed the girl child roughly with one hand and pulled her to him as he thrust his blade forcefully toward the flank of the woman . . .
[ March 30, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]
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‘Many are the strange chances of the world,’ said Mithrandir, ‘and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter.’
– Gandalf in: The Silmarillion, 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age'
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