The Day After-Part 3
The Duel
The coarse gravel was a harsh and unforgiving wave, Etheirgrums knees and chest was it's boat. The men that lead the stuggling vessel through endless wave after wave, no end within sight. Behind them was left a new river, a fresh trail. The bright crimson decorated stone after stone behind the three and their prize. Pale was the decorator, his chizled face dreary and broken. A sigh of relief was released from Eth's soar and cracked lips as the stoney sea was broken to give way to the soft relief of mud and water. Dration's horse slowed down, it's majestic and strong hooves tromping through the marsh. Water splashed as if a thousand tears droping from a womans soft cheek. Down the head of Etherigrum beant, parching his lips with the liquid hope that lay at his knees. A trickle of mud run down his lips, soaking his beard in grime and filth. Though at this moment he did not care, he would partake of the eldest of cheezes and the warmest of milks. His clouded eyes gazed across the lillies, the ponds, an occasional croaking frog or two. Flies flew about his face in a jeering guesture of their freedom. Or so he would believe. As he was drug along upon his knees, the mud biting at and clumping into his open flesh he caught a climpse of smoke ahead. Dration urged his horse to the rising coullums of smoke, his two riders following lightly beside him. The sight was one that had ever befallen Etheirgrum, nor one that he would probally ever see again. Fire as far as his eyes would allow him to see, the swamp grass was ablaze and further onward as was the dry and barren fields. Glarring down upon Eth with a hateful roar, the fire roze higher, dots in the distance scurrying about in hopes to relenquish the flamming death. On the verge of unconcious yet again he felt his hands being released, as well as his legs from their harsh rope keepers. Slowly he fell upon his chest, to him it was a instant. One moment he was starring at the blinding fire, his vision failing him and in the next cold water rushed over one side of his face, mud caking itself in his fine hair. Or atleast it was so days before.
Daration rushed from Eth, feeling confident in the fact thaat he was too weak to even think about escape. He called in Rohirrim to his two fellows whom grabbed the dusty buckets from their saddle bags, filling them to the brim with dirty water. They rained arrows of water upon the batallion of fire, shouting frantically to eachother back and forth with shouts of command and pleading. Many countrymen, their clothing tattered and worn, battled off the foe with water, hearing the cool hiss in return. Slowly the field and marsh was no longer ablaze but now drowned in a fog of soot and ash. Daration looked for his men, coughing and wheezing before he fell to his knees, the smoke hapilly bombarding his nose, eyes all of his sences, He found himself falling into unconciousness with the light sound of yelling and dissmay booming into his eardrums. The next day Daration was awoken to the sight of a gentle woman tending to his face and a few burns. As he looked up to her she reminded him of his sweet, sweet sister of whom he was trying to bring perfection to. A perfect life. How exactly? Well his explenation would have taken hours, maybe even a day. Though simply said the key to his plan was Eth.
Soon after the eyes of Daration awokened as did his prisoner. Sighing in excrusiating pain from his wounds treated as they were the pain was still nearly unbearable. Daration looked to Eth, smiling as his prize was still moving, laying his head to the softness of the pillow he slept in peace. Etheirgrum struggled to push himself up before the soft hand of a woman pushed him back down, her rough voice pleading with him to remain still and to let himself heal. Though why should I? rushed through his mind, after all he was away from his newly made wife, his love. He had no want to be on this trip or to see the lass he was with so many years ago. He opened his eyes fully, squinting as they ajusted to the light. A bowl was placed on his lips with care, the creamy liquid held within quenched his growing hunger. After a few hours of feeding and the changing of his clothes of which Eth felt helpless to, a large and proud rohirrimm entered the tent, With a stride he wandered to Daration, taking his neck tightly and tilting Darations head to meet his own, piercingly. As a knife slicing through cheese. Harshly the commander guestured to Eth, speaking as calmly as he could as to why the man was in such rough condition under a soldiers watch. Daration explaied he was not a villian, infact Eth was the one whom was and deserved every wound he had on him. The story was told about the mans sister, to which the captain ended up looking to Eth with a glint of shame in his eyes, acting as a justice without words. Even though the man was right in wanting revenge he was not in the right as to what he was doing. The captain looked to the old ways to settle this, a duel. The winner would be allowed to leave the camp with help and healing. The looser however would be staying in the camp, in a mound of earth.
Ring did Eths ears as he stood in the mddle of one of the ruins of enedwaith, starring blankly to his ''brother''. As he had the past few days only his trousers were worn. Daration stood strong and proud of his new scars and burns, the black reminders of his hard labor and work for his loving sister. Tattered leather did he wear, tauntingly brandishing the shining sword of Etheirgrums. The wind moaned from the slashes it recieved, whispering after of the strength of the strikes. Alone, as an abandoned pup did Etheirgrum stand, no man of Rohan would give him a weapon to end the life of one of their own. So up his fists went, back and forth his head wobbled as if he were seven ales in on his night of merriment. But this evening he was seven wounds in to his night of punishment. Laughing the laugh Eth had come to be familliar with, as if a song that would be stuck upon the very front of your mind Daration stode forward confident, his new play thing still slashing through the nothingness around him. The ragged man of the red hair watched his opponed stridding forward, jeering, laughing, swinging. To Eth this man was a annoying unwanted dribble of ink that had been dropped upon his book of a life. Slowly seeping deeply into all of the pages, one by one untill the entire book was unwritten. No words, no symbols only ink, a black emptyness. Except for one corner of him, the corner that remembered the bright smile of his love, her lucious hair, her warming laugh. And with this thought upon his mind he steped forward proudly, a wolf within a lion den. This time when the sword was swung through the air it cut at flesh, not air. The skin screamed as it was torn, blood rushing from a light gash across Etheirgrums center chest. Instead of a scream, a recoil, a cry there came a pssionate bellow just before the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed. A bone snapped, darations chin shattered as tears rushed to his eyes. Having never felt pain in his life he screamed as if he has been in the agony of drowning, the agony of death. Slash after slash was sent towards the ragged being that was Etherigrum, blow after blow landed. Though on his arms, light wounds, not concentrated. Every one was taken with pride, Etheirgrum was not here to die, he was here to go down in glory, to have his name remembered within his last breathes of life upon this earth. Blood rushed from Darations nose after a fist of steel colided with it, the crimson rushing like a curtain, being drawn across a window. The other fist coliding with Darations jaw yet again, causing him to recoil and fall to his knees in pain. The supposed victor walked forth, pulling back his foot and as it was swung towards Darations chin the blade was dug deeply through the foot, causing a scream of pain. Etherigrum fell to his knees as Daration stood up the victor, placing the blade upon Eth's neck. '' You are not getting out of this...my sister needs you. As does your son, you are going to be the man they need or I w....'' was all the victor managed to say before his body fell dead to the ground. An arrow stained in glistening red lay through his chest, his heart wrapped tightly around the shaft of the arrow. The eyes off daration glistened into Eths as Eth watched the life ebb away, shock drawing through his every muscle and fabric of being. He kneeled there, breathlessly, tears streaming down his cheeks. As if a new born child he could not speak, walk. All he could do was stare, stare without sound or cause.
Etherigrum looked up slowly, watching as the Rohirrim shouted in anger, deciet. At the far end of the ruins stood a small brown haired woman. Eyes the colour as a deer pelt. Wrapped around her leg in a loving and comforting embrace was a small child, his head pressed into his mothers side. Henian's gaze met Etheirgrums, her eyes flashed anger along with tears before she broke it, rushing towards him, her son following behind. Her hand was offered, a single root on the side of the deep hill Etherigrum was slowly sliding down as the darkness took him. Shaking upon the flat ground. His hand grasped hers, pulling him upwards as at the same moment a whistle she blew. A grey stallion rode with powerful passion towards her, wisking the three away. Ethergrum lay into her from behind, her hands stroking his arms with care as their son sat between them, snuggling into his mother. '' your coming home with me dear...we need to talk.''
'' Oh and i'd like you to meet Garrion. Your son. ''
