The Valley of Tears

The arrow took her in the back of the throat and with a soundless cry, more of a windless gasp she fell backward into the darkness below. Unfortunately Kressara and Wick learned quickly that she wasn’t the only one. 2 families were up here and it was only pure luck that there were no infants. Grimly they went about their task and after just a few seconds everyone visible was down. When they approached the fire there were sleeping forms on the ground and one by one they used their knives to silence them as well. Not all of the forms were tall enough to be Haradrim soldiers. Kressara thought the last sleeping shape was a young boy of perhaps 7 or 8 years. After, both herself and Wick just stood there near the fire, an eerie silence washed over them save for the sound of the wind as it blew through there. “Give...give the signal,” Wick said barely able to keep the anguish and disgust out of his voice. He had had to kill several young women and she could tell it was gnawing at his gut like rot worms.

Gowen looked up when Kressara’s red fletched arrow stuck into the ground near him. A sign that the coast was clear. Now they could watch the clearing from the heights and he and Forgus could move up.

Havan put his hand over a soldier’s mouth then slit the man’s neck. Warm blood flowed onto his left hand and he dragged the man backward on his heels into the darkness. Yearly had killed 2 though 1 was a young man from what they could tell. It was hoped that they could get in and out without having to kill anyone. With that hope gone they’d have to attack and make it look like it was just assassins that made their way in. The cisterns were spaced evenly apart and were filled with life-giving water. Something not nearly as abundant here. At night they were covered by oiled, silken blankets that allowed condensation to form and add to what was already in the cisterns. Yearly poisoned 2 and Havan put his entire flask in the remaining one and then they buried the vials. Oliphants stood in massive lines in the clearing though most seemed to be sleeping on their feet while others made soft sounds as if they were chewing on something. The clearing was filled with small, dark round tents and hundreds of cook fires lit up the night. With their task done they could either drag the bodies back to the pass or set about murdering anyone and everyone they could find. Havan stacked 2 bodies together to drag while Yearly shouldered one.

From the heights Kressara could see it all. Their vantage point was perfect and she saw what Havan and Yearly were doing. They only needed to get back into the pass but before they made it further then a few yards two men accosted them and Yearly and Havan were forced to defend themselves. One of the men gave out an alarm cry and as if someone kicked a red ant hill Haradrim soldiers began to run en masse toward the fighting. “We have to go!” wick growled from behind her. They’d be hard pressed to make it down even with using the tent ropes he had tied together. Kressara saw yearly go down, impaled by no less than 3 spears from different sides. She saw Havan for a brief moment but she saw him take an arrow in the back. “Kressara!” Wick snapped in a tone that would brook no argument.

Kressara felt an emptiness in the pit of her stomach as she and Wick began to dispatch every member of the two families at a quick rate. When it was done she looked around her at the unnecessary bloodshed and felt sick. Several of them had been young boys with their entire lives ahead of them. Now they were worm food. One of them stared up at her with blank, unblinking eyes. She had to force herself to step away. The only thing that was keeping her going at this point was knowing that the others were depending on them. She pulled out the red fletched arrow and fired it so it landed in the ground next to Gowen. This was the signal to them that there was no one up on the cliff who could fire upon them. Now she and Wick could only watch and wait. From her vantage point she could see everything clearly. She spotted Havan and Yearly stacking dead bodies and she knew then that the task was done. The water had been poisoned and the Oliphants would soon die. She began to relax, thinking that the hardest part was now over and that they would all go home alive. But just as this thought entered her head she saw two men attack Yearly and Havan. Everything then seemed to slow down. She heard a cry and saw Haradrim soldiers appear from everywhere. There was nothing Kressara could do except stand there feeling utterly helpless. She heard Wick, but she continued to stand there watching. Tears came to her eyes when she saw Yearly get speared by three different Haradrim soldiers at nearly the same time. Her eyes desperately searched for Havan. She finally spotted him but in that moment she saw him jerk and then go down. Sticking out of his back was an arrow. Kressara felt her legs go weak and it was a great effort for her just to stand. She felt sick and suddenly wished that this was all a nightmare. She wanted to wake up from it. She willed herself to wake up, but to no avail. There she still stood staring down at the death below.

Wick's voice suddenly snapped her out of her shock. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. She needed to move. With great effort she forced herself to move away from the edge of the cliff and towards the ropes. She had not seen Gowen, but she could only hope that he was alright.

Forgus and Gowen held the pass. Forgus’s heavy hammer and Gowen’s spear and shield flashed into the night and the bodies that tripped up those that scrambled over them could no longer be easily counted. Gowen sustained wounds on his leg, scalp and forearm by arrows and swords and Forgus had cuts and gashes on his arms and side. Once he saw arrows flying past them he knew that Wick and Kressara had arrived and it was time for them to fall back. He had seen Havan but it appeared that he had gotten caught from behind and his form merged with several others before they began to move up the slope toward them. Gowen was in the rear as they ran, his shield making a distinct ‘tink-tink….tink’ sound as arrows flew at him in the darkness. Their followers moved at a much slower pace then they, wary that more soldiers were waiting for them in the night.

He didn’t know how long they had been running but Gowen called for a rest when Forgus began to flag just ahead of him. Of their pursuers there hadn’t been any sign in hours so he felt confident enough for a short rest. Sweaty and bloody he moved up the line and put his hand on Forgus’s shoulder. Forgus was breathing as if his chest were a furnace and trying to catch his breath but nodded. Wick and Rikil nodded too but Rikil stopped him. “Did you see Havan?” He asked. Barely able to speak Gowen nodded and glanced over at Kressara who, out of everyone looked far more clean and far more together than everyone else. “From a distance,” He said and patted the man’s shoulder reassuringly as Rikil observed the congealed blood on his face and forehead. Rikil winced and had a pained look on his face. “I think the bleeding has stopped, see to Forgus he said. Havan and he had been good friends and it was obvious he had hoped that he’d be following behind them. “It’s alright Rikil, rest easy,” he said and stepped up to Kressara. “Are you alright?” He asked though it was obvious that he was in much worse shape than she was yet he did what he always did and put everyone else ahead of himself.

Kressara didn't know how long she had been running for. Somehow she kept moving. She didn't know how, but she did. Her body and mind felt numb. She didn't even feel like her body was her own. She felt as if she was separated from it. Her mind was blank and her eyes glossy. Her body was splattered with blood, but little of it was her own. She had made it out with only a few scratches. She had been lucky...very lucky. Finally they stopped. Kressara's legs were burning, but she barely noticed it. She was still in shock and just stared off without even seeming to realize the others were there. However, when she heard Havan's name mentioned tears began to fill her eyes. She didn't want the others to see her cry. She was trying to be strong, but too much had just happened for her not to cry. Havan had been a good man and she suddenly regretted her final conversation with him. She would no longer see his smile...hear his laugh. And they had lost Yearly as well. A man who had anticipated his death, but still had had the courage to do what was necessary.

She looked over at Gowen slightly when he asked her if she was alright and he would know then that she wasn't. Her first love had died before her. She shook her head and hugged her arms around herself as tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"No, I'm not alright."

Gowen took Kressara up into an embrace and made soothing sounds into her ear. He let her have her tears, and no one said anything right then as they felt it too. Havan and Yearly were beloved members of this small band. They were brothers in arms and would be sorely missed. There were no looks or disparaging remarks. They were men and so they would not cry for the dead.

“Get everyone ready to move Wick,” he said as he kissed Kressara’s forehead. “They’ll be coming Kressara, we need to go,” he said and wiped her cheeks with his fingers. It only Just smeared the dirt and blood but the sentiment was the same. And then they began to run again though 2 patrols were ahead of them. They weren’t looking their way but It wouldn’t be long before they’d reach them. Now it was a race of endurance and they all had been in this environment long enough to acclimate to it. And so they just kept going even when their throats felt like the very air they breathed was filled with dust that wanted to choke them.

“Kressara, take Rikil and keep going. You are our best runners,” he said between pants. “You need to get to our encampment and tell them to attack at first light and threat our mission was a success. We’ll deal with these patrols,” Gowen said knowing Forgus was done running. He and Wick would remain behind to travel as fast as they could though he knew they Haradrim host would catch up to them eventually. But at least Kressara and Rikil would make it he thought.

Kressara leaned into Gowen and cried softly into his shoulder. She hated crying in front of the men because she thought they would think her weak, but she couldn't help it. She had loved Havan, and Yearly had been like a brother to her. They had all known the risks, but Kressara had still held out hope that they would all make it out alive. She knew that they would have to keep going and she slowly got herself under control. She forced back her tears and began to run with the others again. They were all exhausted but they had to keep going. They had come this far they couldn't give up now. Finally, they came to another halt and Kressara looked over at Gowen when he gave the order for Rikil and herself to continue on as fast as they could to the encampment and give the order to attack at first light. Gowen and Forgus would remain behind to fight the Haradrim and give them the best chance to reach the encampment. Kressara knew that they had to move quickly, but even so she grabbed Gowen's shirt and pulled him to her and kissed him. It was in front of the others, but she no longer cared. She released him and looked into his eyes.

"Come back...both of you."

She then turned and began to run once again with Rikil towards the encampment.

The desert heat beat down upon Kressara and Rikil but they jogged in step with one another, their feet moved in time with each stride. Animals scurried away at their quick approach and the fading light of the sun brought a welcomed respite from the brutal heat that had been beating down upon them. They saw no Haradrim patrols though Kressara didn’t expect any until they got closer to the front lines. Northward they continued toward where she knew she’d have to jump back down into the trenches that led to their picket lines. There’d be soldiers there for certain she knew and more killing. Rikil had his belt knife but she’d seen him kill a few Haradrim even so. They paused here and there to drink and to scarf down a chunk of the ration cakes they had brought and then continue. League after league brought more running, more fatigue and more of the sense that she’d never see those men again. Havan, Gowen, Forgus, Wick and Yearly. Men she had served months with had given everything they had to ensure that Gondor’s southern border was secure. While her body worked to keep her running she thought about so many things. The war, the loss of life, her home, her family and the 2 men that she held in her heart. As she approached the trench two Haradrim were there and before they knew what hit them the first was dead by her arrow and the second was down before the first even fell. They followed them down into the trench that had grown dark now that the moon was the only source of light. Kressara and Rikil encounter several more Haradrim but they had the advantage of good eyesight in the darkness and her arrows struck true each and every time she fired one. As a sliver of sunlight crept up above them and bathed the sky in hues of red and gold they reached the forward sentries of the Gondor encampment. When they saw them they lifted up the fences for them then secured it down again as they clamored up out of the trench into the Gondor encampment. Almost everyone there knew her by now and it wasn’t long before they were surrounded by soldiers and officers who proffered cool, clean water and food far better than the rations they had been eating. Once they caught their breath and spoke to the under officers that had approached them the entire encampment suddenly began to come alive with activity. This offensive was long in coming and as pikemen, cavalry, archers and heavy infantry lined up on both sides it was only a matter of time before they began their march southward toward the Haradrim host that had little chance of stopping them.

By the time Kressara and Rikil reached the encampment her entire body was numb. Her legs burned and ached and she was covered in blood, sweat, dirt, and dust. She hardly looked like the princess she was in reality, but she didn't care. Their mission had been both a success and a failure to her mind. They had completed what they had set out to do, but in doing so had lost good men. She didn't know if Gowen, Wick, and Forgus would make it back alive, but she prayed to whatever Gods there were that they would spare their lives. She needed Gowen to make it back. She couldn't lose two men that she loved within a day of each other. She didn't think her heart could take that kind of loss.

Despite being exhausted, Kressara wanted to go with the soldiers, but Rikil managed to keep her back. He could sense the swirling emotions in her heart and mind. They had all been through hell and done things that they never would have done otherwise. Kressara still could not get the image of killing that young girl out of her head. Rikil told her to go back to her tent and get some rest, but she couldn't rest, not when she knew that the rest of their team was still out there fighting for their lives. Kressara walked slowly to the officer's tent and stepped inside. It was empty, but the maps that they had been looking at before setting off were still out on the table. Kressara paced slowly back and forth waiting for any word on Gowen, Wick, and Forgus.

Clean water for washing, soap, freshly laundered clothes, a tray of food and spring wine in a carafe that beaded with condensation awaited Kressara when she entered her tent. Havan’s things still sat in and on his large leather banded wooden chest that sat in a corner of the room. Their bed was newly made and the bedding replaced by new, his scent was no longer on his pillow. Her part in this war had ended just a moment ago, the moment she and Rikil stepped into the encampment. Outside men barked orders as saddles creaked,horses whinnied, bluffed and stamped their hooves. The sound of men talking and the ring and groan of metal on metal added to the cacophony of the Gondorian army as it prepared to march southward. Without the Oliphants and a good portion of their army sick from the poison, it was a good bet that the army that gathered nearby, the men of her homeland, the men of Gondor would win the day and push the Haradrim deep into the south. By the actions of her and and her small band of heroes, Kressara saved hundreds of Gondor soldiers lives. Maybe even thousands. Likely though many innocent people would also die. Women and children, families and camp followers who helped supply the Haradrim soldiers. Would the Gondor Army give quarter to those? She hoped it would be so but deep in the recesses of her heart she knew it wasn’t very likely and she had done no less herself. She didn’t know how much time had passed since she sat down upon her bed. Her food and wine untouched as her mind went through everything that happened in the past few days and her heart agonized over the heavy loss that darkened her spirit.

Was this why she had been all but led here? To kill children and watch her dear friends...no, her brothers, because that was how she thought of them, die? The why of it confused her to weeping and the pain of it made her want to fold in on herself and never touch a bow or a blade ever again. In fact as she sat she reached up and drew out her sword and looked at it. The long blade shone brightly even in this dim light. Once, long ago it seemed to her, she loved her sword and the feel of it as it cut into the air around her during her training. She had become one with it, it had become apart of her and now? Now she hated it so much she wanted to cast it aside. Bury it as if it never existed. All it brought was pain, death and sorrow. To those she used it against and to herself. It was nothing more then a well-made tool for destruction and death and the only thing coming here has taught her was that she never wanted to use it again. Bu then, wasn’t that what her grandfather had told her since the beginning? What good was a weapon if the person that wielded it never learned when and when ‘not’ to use it? As she leaned her head forward to rest against the blade’s edge a call resounded over the camp. And a horn, 2 clear, distinct notes that blared out above the shouts and the din of thousands of men who pushed forward to the edge of the picket line. It was then that Rikil appeared at the door to her tent and ducked his head in. “Someone’s coming! Hurry Kressara! Hurry!” He exclaimed in a rush and ducked back out again.

As she resheathed her sword and exited the tent men clamored past the horses and up onto the barricades. “Come on!!! Run Forgus!!! Run!!!” Someone said. “Archers! Given them cover!!!” A commanding voice called. And men with bows hopped up or were helped up onto the wooden barricades. In the distance 2 men who held a third between them hobbled forward in a shambling run. One with a shield and spear stepped away to engage Haradrim soldiers that ran up to attack them. The other, the largest of the 3 helped a smaller man by the arm as they hobbled toward the front lines. As Haradrim rose up out of their trenches to attack them arrows shot by Gondorian archers struck them in the back. Gowen attacked 2 that were following them then turned and began to run again. The men at the front threw down the fences and clamored over them to get at the Haradrim who had turned away to face the 3 that was running toward them. Gondorian soldiers leaped on their backs and their front line quickly imploded into a frenzy of fierce fighting. “Pikemen...advance!!! A commanding voice called and men with long pikes, spears and bearded axes and halberds stepped through and engaged the Haradrim who had lowered their defenses.

Kressara immediately grabbed her bow and quiver and rushed out with Rikil. Hope sprang into her chest that perhaps they had made it back alive. She could hear someone yell out Forgus' name and she ran even faster. As she heard the call for archers she readied her bow and jumped up onto the wooden barricade. None of the men here questioned her abilities anymore and most had heard of them before she had even arrived at the encampment and so she was never questioned nor told that she could not do something because she was a woman. Her keen eyes scanned the horizon and she soon spotted three men. Her heart leapt when she saw that it was indeed Gowen, Wick, and Forgus. Right on their heels were Haradrim soldiers and Kressara quickly took aim. She began to fire, taking out as many as she could. At one time she hit two soldiers with the same arrow. She fired in rapid succession with perfect aim. Her arrows flew true and never missed their intended target. She soon ran out of arrows and could only stand there watching as the three men got closer and closer to the safety of the encampment.

Forgus groaned with the effort and the arrow that stuck out of his butt didn’t improve his speed nor demeanor. Wick has lost a lot of blood and his entire left side was a dark red stain. Gowen has cuts in several places and he fought for his life as 2 Haradrim soldiers tried to stab him. Several soldiers lay dead around him as arrows from the barricades rained down on them. Miraculously they all missed Gowen and he twisted his shield and wrenched a sword out of an enemies hand as he stabbed him. He barely evaded the other soldier’s sword and took a gash on his shoulder as he was forced to dance back. The soldier came in again and Gowen struck him with the edge of his shield then staggered forward to impale him with his spear. Several more soldiers came toward him and Gowen turned and began to run once more but he had lost so much blood his legs wobbled and he felt so weak.

“Go go go!!!” A commanding voice shouted and Gondorian soldiers lurched forward toward the Haradrim. Gowen held his shield behind him as he ran and arrows bounced off of it that would have normally impaled him in the back. Just as Gondor soldiers came toward him, he was almost there an arrow pierced the back of his left leg. He screamed and staggered to his knees and caught Kressara’s eyes from high up upon the barricade. In that moment of agony he knew he was going to die. “I love you!” He cried as Haradrim soldiers came toward him from behind and time seemed to slow down for him.

Lances and pikes came toward him then slide to his left and right to impale the Haradrim who were intent in finishing him off. The front line of soldiers slid around him and pushed the Haradrim host back several paces. As Rikil took Wick unto his shoulder Forgus turned back to help Gowen. He came up on him quickly then gingerly picked him up and hefted him onto his shoulder. “I’ve got ya lad!” He groaned then turned and ran back toward the line of barricades as Gondor’s pikemen continued to push the Haradrim back.

Twenty eight hours later Kressara sat on the edge of Gowen's cot with a wet, cool rag. She lightly dabbed it at his forehead as he slept. His wounds had been cared for and nothing was life threatening. Kressara had hardly left Gowen's side since Forgus had carried him into the encampment. Finally, she had been forced by Rikil to eat, bathe, and sleep. She had washed away all of the dirt, blood and grime that coated her face, neck, and hands. She and Rikil out of the entire group were the only ones who had escaped without any real injuries. Her hair was washed as well and smelled of lavender. It was loose down her back and around her shoulders and cascaded in soft, dark brown waves. Wick and Forgus had both also survived, though Wick was the most badly injured.

While Gowen had slept Kressara had visited with all of them, whom she now considered family and her brothers. She loved and cared for each of them individually and her heart still ached from the loss of Yearly and Havan. Around her neck still hung the necklace Havan had given her and she knew that she would wear it always to never forget her first love. Havan had never doubted her and had encouraged her in her training. He had been an honorable man and Kressara felt she was a better person and soldier for having known and loved him. The morning she had written a personal note to his parents informing them of his death. It had been difficult for her to write, but she would much rather them hear it from her instead of learning of it from an impersonal, standard letter. She deeply regretted not being able to go back for his body to give him the proper burial he deserved. She next wrote a letter to her parents, informing them of Havan's death and the ultimate success of their mission. She requested they visit Havan's parents if their time allowed because she knew that they would be grieving the loss of their son to whom she had been engaged.

She thought she felt Gowen stir and she looked down at him. "Gowen?"

Bolstered by Gowen’s fight the Gondorian pikemen backed up by the rest of Gondor’s forces conducted themselves with bloody efficiency. As they tore into the front ranks, long pikes tipped with nearly 2 feet of steel, the weakened enemy lines were then assaulted by the cavalry forces which drove at speed into them. Then as they rode to the side the heavy infantry marched in as archers pelted the rear lines of the enemy. It took less then a day of fighting but the main Haradrim army was in a full retreat southward. There would be a last stand further south but without their Oliphant archers there was little chance that they’d be able to turn aside the greater numbers of Gondor’s forces.

Rikil had healed Forgus, Wick and Gowen and had told Kressara that all would make a full recovery if not quickly. Wick had been the worst off but the black thread that was used by Rikil’s skilled hands was in abundance and each one of them had received a number of stitches that would undoubtedly leave scars to remind them all of their time spent here in the Harad.

The scent of lavender brought a pleased grin to Gowen’s face and in the time that he slept, over a full day, much of his lost color had returned if not his vigor. That, Rikil had told her, would take time and a good deal of food if infection didn’t set into his wounds and he showed her how to change his bandages. Gowen lay in what used to be her and Havan’s tent where 2 cots were set side by side and a pallet with straw and furs made up the mattress. White cloth sheets covered the furs and a thick, blue, well-darned quilt covered the sheets. Other than the sheets Gowen wore not a stitch due to the inconvenience of where his wounds were and the frequency that his bandages needed to be changed. He felt something cool slide down into his throat and convulsively he swallowed and it took real effort not to choke and splutter what he thought was water back up again.

“Is Wick alright?” Gowen asked right off without a care for himself. But that was who Gowen was. He cared for his men, took responsibility for them before he saw to his own needs. “I...wasn’t sure he’d make it,” He groaned tiredly as he slowly opened his eyes. He was sweating a good deal, most people did when they were healing in this heat even with the cool compresses she put on his face and forehead. “Kressara…” he said when he saw her and his mouth curled up into a very warm smile. “Whats...what’s happening?” He asked weakly as his eyelids threatened to close again. He was so tired and weak but he wanted to know.

Kressara had been carefully monitoring Gowen's recovery. She was the one changing the bandages and keeping the wounds clean so infection could not develop. She kept an eye on his temperature as well and always kept a cold compress near at hand. She had not seen much movement from him, but did not wake him either. He needed his rest to recover fully. She had moved much of his things over into the tent she and Havan had been sharing so when he awoke he would have what he needed. When she saw him begin to move and awaken she carefully gave him a cool cup of water to drink because she knew his throat would be parched. Some of it got onto the sheets, but at least half of it he was able to drink. She placed the cup aside and picked up his hand into her own.

"You're in the Gondor encampment. You have been resting for a day now. Wick is alive...thanks to you Gowen. So are Forgus and Rikil."

ooc: new thread