[Esgallhugwen]

The words that the last brigand had said to Eswen as Falowik and herself took him down still rang harshly in her ears. "You will fall to the Master, then he will have his way with you". The familiarity of those words was blood curdling and heart wrenching.

Many years ago, in mortal reckoning in an Orc hold where she had been taken, where her mother died alone, she heard those very words spoken by someone in the shadows that she could not see. As she was whipped and cut with blades and whips she always fought to hold on to her sanity and her life.

The words had always haunted her and now with renewed force. Esgallhugwen said nothing as Falco came over the hill with sixty men at his back, clothed in tatters with bones sticking out like spikes and needles.

Esgallhugwen felt guilty for the poor Hobbits who wished to go home, that was very understandable, considering what they had been witness to. But she would continue on with Thoronmir, she needed to find this dark force, she needed to see if her premonition was true, if there was any link at all.

Sixty of the men wanted to go onwards as well, while the rest, about 120 wished to go to Bree. Esgallhugwen sat away from the group, who was celebrating, she took the sword from the last brigand they killed; looking at the sword she asumed he was of some higher rank than the rest.

It was a short sword, suitable for horseback battle, the pomel was a silver skull with a snake running through the eyes. The snake had two red rubies for eyes and they stared back at Esgallhugwen with a burning light.

Nimromen, the little white wolf cub, was limping among the ex-prisoners, sniffing here and there begging for scraps of meat. If she were to go on she would have one of the Hobbits take him to Bree or to the Shire and keep him until she returns, there would be no chance she would return unscathed.

The arrow wounds burned slightly as she cleaned and bandaged them, a dark figure loomed above her, it was one of the prisoners.

Pray tell what could this poor soul want, especially from me when all the others are far more friendly.

She looked up at his stark face, drawn and pale by starvation and labour, Esgallhugwen was amazed he could even stand in his state. she stood up leaving the brigand's sword on the ground,

"please, won't you take a seat" she gestured to the bench she had been sitting on. "Thank you" he replied as if relieved that she did not turn him away.

He looked into her clear grey eyes, "M'lady why are you sitting all alone, when merry making is under way?"

Esgallhugwen looked back into his green eyes "my apologies, I prefer to be alone for the most part, what do you wish of me?" she tried to prevent him from having to get up she could tell his young bones ached, and he looked so terribly old.

"I am one of the men who wishes to stay with the group and not return to Bree. And perhaps in that time I may find the answer to the riddle that is you, that is what I wish Lady, for there is an air about you different from your companions".

She gazed at his face and he seemed hard set and determined to stay with the group. "Tis hard to crack the riddle of Lady Esgallhugwen, none now know the answer, those who do are few or gone".