Prologue
The cottage's closed frail wooden door was the only thing that now stood between
the killer and him. Trapped within the four walls that bore no windows, Aragorn
could hear the murderer's heavy fists pound upon the wood from the outside. The
snarling breath from the intruder could be heard as if he were in the room next to
his victims. It was a frightening sound.
The destructive killer did not like it that his last victim was unexpectedly snatched
away from him and now only lived thanks to the protection of another Man,
interfering unexpectedly in his business.
The closed door did not stop the enraged killer for long. His heart pounded in
chest when he reached for his weapons. He was not a warrior but he could fight
like the best man when his life depended upon it. And he fought falsely, not caring
for the rules of battle that seemed so important amongst warriors.
Inside the cottage, Strider grasped his sword tight and raised it, eager to fight
and be done with it. He would not yield to any Man who would take the life of a
young girl as if she bore no importance to this world. Behind him, he kept the girl
safely hidden behind a large, turned-over table that would protect her in the heat
of the battle. He would make certain not a single strand of hair was harmed, and
that she would return to those she loved.
But then, as the door was finally opened from the outside, the Ranger inside
quickly understood that this would not be a fair battle. For, two arrows flew
through the room an in almost uncanny speed as the wood gave way to show the
tall enemy.
Both arrows hit their target. One of them flew directly at Aragorn's right upper
arm, slashing skin, flesh and bone and paralyzing the limb almost instantly as the
arrow dug deep into its victim. Before he could even grasp at the pain that struck
him hard, Strider did not even realize that the second arrow grazed his skull,
sending him into almost immediate oblivion.
When he dropped the sword and his body followed behind it to the ground, he did
not feel any pain. His body just went numb and out of use, and the arrow
embedded in his flesh remained where it was. It was strange really, that he would
not feel the senses he had in awareness, and that there was nothing he could do
about it.
Behind the table, the girl screamed when the killer stepped over the fallen
Ranger's body and reached for her with his strong hands. She finally came eye to
eye with the person who had been stalking her for nights, terrifying her when she
struggled to survive her nightmares. She did not know who he was, but she knew
she would not live.
Goran claimed what was his, rejoicing in the girl's death-defying screams. Soon
he was done with her, leaving her broken body upon the ground. She fell next to
the Ranger, and her dead eyes looked into his as he opened his eyelashes
confused and only briefly. Then he sunk further into the abyss as the Man of
Rohan reached for him.
It was one thing to kill a defenseless girl with ease, but it was another to take
revenge upon a Man who had tried to step between his victims and him. Goran
knew that a common kill would not satisfy him. It would please him more to know
that the Man would spend his last hours in doubt and hope for resurrection. A
resurrection that would not come.