[Eorl of Rohan]

Ferethor tensed, unsheathing his elven blade, for his wary eyes did not fail to catch that Atharen meant to make a surprise move. 'He doesn't mean to kill Lieutenant Meren, does he?' The thought flashed past Ferethor's mind in a sudden torrent of fear.

But Atharen was not a fool. Ferethor suddenly divined his purpose and was already in action by the time Atharen effetively disarmed Meren.

"Stay still! And your companion may live to see another dawn." Atharen softly said, his voice falling into the empty silence of shock. "I am not an enemy of Gondor." Meren gasped with clenched teeth, "Whoever you may be, from henceforth you are a foe to the Empire of Gondor. I do not fear death."

Ferethor could not suppress his admiration at the valour and resolution of his friend Meren in such a circumstance.

Before the stunned sentinels could be aroused, Ferethor thrust through the ring of petrified soldiers roughly. None dared to stay him. Even as he gained the entrance without resistance, he looked back. Ferethor locked his gaze with Meren's desperate glare for a moment, silently pleading for forgiveness.

"I am no enemy of Gondor, and I am an ally and kinsman of the King - although of course you may believe what you will," Atharen spoke dryly. "Who are you?" Meren asked sharply, amazement engraved on his counternance.

"Ah, that would be telling." Atharen backed into the door slowly, even as Ferethor opened it with hsi trembling hands. Trembling with suppressed fury. "Good day to you, gentlemen."

Atharen suddenly let go of Meren and wrenched the door shut. Ferethor threw his weight on the door while Atharen jammed it deftly. "The door would hold them for less then a minute!" Atharen turned and addressed the company still not recovered from. "What are you waiting for? Split up and flee!"

Ferethor doggedly followed Atharen and Crystal, as they disappeared into the shadow of the wood. Atharen looked up in some surprise as Ferethor angrily made his way through the thick undergrowth.

"Did you have to interfere?" Ferethor asked Atharen, his hoarse voice low and perilously soft - chill and harsh as death itself. Ferethos' fiery temper blazed up in consuming wrath and his eyes smouldered with fury.

Even Atharen took a step back defensively as Ferethor clenched his fist convulsively. Recovering swiftly, Atharen instinctively knew that his rash reply could unleash the storm that Ferethor was barely keeping in check only by his steely will.