Eowyn sprinted through the rain, driving her arms—as Theodred had once taught her—to hasten her feet. She had dropped her sword some yards back, and was now unarmed, save for the little hunting knife she had promised Hobbie.

She leaped atop a spur of rock, dropped down the other side, and raced on.

She dared not take the time to look back, but she did not need to: she could hear the gaur’s breathing, harsh and feral, close behind her.

She jumped, and cleared a tree root.

Gods, she had been foolish!

…

With the gaur at its most vulnerable, doubled over and clutching its groin, she had gone in for the kill, striking at its unprotected neck.

“Silver!” she had cried. And the creature’s hand had instantly come up, caught her blade, and pushed it away.

She had missed her target.

But, even so, the sword had bitten deep into its palm and, for a long moment, she had thought that she still might triumph, for the fine spines of silver, welded to the steel by an elven blacksmith, must surely have had some effect?

The gaur had simply held up its hand, and shown her its uncorrupted flesh.

Eowyn had taken to her heels.

…

She veered right, pounding down the muddy track. The rain was heavy now, making the going hard, and she was tiring—her throat was burning, her chest had begun to ache, and her legs were numb below the knee—but, panting, she pushed on.

If I could just double back, and find my way to Legolas…

She stumbled, recovered, and ran on, painfully aware that she was slowing down. And it occurred to her, then, that the gaur could easily have overtaken her. You are playing with me, she thought. Why?

But she already knew the answer: Because you want me to think I might escape you! Because proving me wrong will make your victory so much sweeter!

Well, you are just giving Legolas more time to find me!

That thought revived her and, digging deep within herself, she put on an extra spurt, suddenly hopeful—until, a few yards further down the trail, she slipped in the mud and turned her ankle.

She staggered on, but every step cut through her joint like a knife, and she knew that it was over.

Legolas will find me, she thought. But he will be too late…