"Guards, slow down, we're close"
The captain had his right hand raised and his left hand on his sword ready to pull it from its sheath. Penlard was a new recruit to the guard, standing alongside his father.
"Michor has been hit! They have spotted us!"
Michor dropped to his knees, tears flooding his eyes as he looked at each of his brethren, "I am sorry".
Michor fell onto his front, an arrow in his chest after what seemed a lifetime, Penlard watched, his body frozen as his father grabbed his arm to bring him along with the group as they ran towards the group of Orcs approaching them.
The captain clashed with them first. The Orcs outnumbered the guards by ten, maybe more but the heart of Gondor was on their side. Penlard was a skilled fighter, his hands tightly around the hilt of his sword, slicing the back of an Orcs legs before chopping off the head of another, stabbing the previous Orc in the stomach as it fell from the attack to the legs.
It was then that Penlard was tackled by an Orc to the ground, "Father!", he shouted, "Help me!". His father wasn't close enough to hear his shouts. The orc quickly got to its feet and chopped its sword down towards Penlards face and he managed to get his own sword between his face and the chop knocking his sword down to his face with less impact cutting right across his eye. Penlard cried out in pain as his eye filled with blood but through the other eye he saw the Orcs body drop and the head fly in the air.
The captain grabbed Penlards arm, pulling him to his feet.
"We need to get him back, this wound won't stop bleeding until we get it closed up. Bring back the bodies of Michor and Hefton"
Penlard's bloody face looked to his captain, "Hefton? Father?" His legs gave way at the news of his father and he turned to see his fathers face metres away, motionless, his eyes looking straight into his sons face.
