Lianna took in a deep breath. She could feel cool air on the back of her neck and tried her hardest not to let it distract her. She was all the while aware of countless eyes upon her; yet that she was comfortable with. That she was used to. The bow felt good in her hand, strong, sure, sturdy and most importantly - right. It felt as though it was aiming true. Letting out the breath she had taken in she fired her arrow. There was silence for a moment as the shot struck home and then murmuring as the boy whose task it was to confirm points sprinted towards the target.

"Clear hit!" he called, "Dead centre!"

Clapping broke out and Lianna smiled confidently. She had known she would hit the centre of the target all along yet she never acted as though she were over confident. From the look on her opponent's face she knew that the tactic had paid off. "Gal, do not look so defeated; it was a draw after all." Baragallon gave her a look of intense frustration before striding over to the target and seeing her shot for himself. She could not stop the laughter from bubbling up and exploding from inside her.

"You are so very distrusting, brother, why would the lad lie about my shot?" The man shrugged before murmuring,

"It's always a draw between us two, sister, that is why you and I should never challenge one another." She decided it would be unwise to frustrate him further when he was so obviously in a sour mood.

"Take heart for next time we shall each challenge the best archers in Lossarnach. They will face us and, in doing so, prove the children of Aglarebaer the greatest of all warriors!" She ended her little speech by jumping atop a tree stump and striking a ridiculous pose. "They will take our likenesses to document such outstanding skill and bravery and write ballads filled with our praise. We shall go down in history!"

Gal began to laugh along with what remained of the crowd and she nodded with satisfaction at the sound. "There. Now we are friends again, yes?" He nodded and gave his sister a one armed hug,

"I could never be anything but friends with you, Lia, you are such a...well, I'm not rightly sure what you are." She grinned at this and squeezed him round the shoulder before replying nonchalantly,

"An oddity, I imagine, is the word you should use." Then she turned from him and went to cut her arrow from the target. It was nothing advanced; an old piece of wood with painted rings on it. Her arrow was little better. The wood of the shaft was good but the tip itself was clumsily sculpted from stone and tied to the shaft of wood with a piece of tattered string. Although she knew the tip would hold she wished for more fitting tools with which to practise her favourite pass time.

"Lia, come in now! You too Gal, you children would never eat if I were not here to remind you to do so!" Lia looked up and smiled at her mother, standing at the edge of their makeshift archery range, feigning anger very poorly. "Ah mother, what would you do if the Mistress of the Archery Field and I stayed under your feet all day long? I daresay you would be far more displeased with that!" Their mother laughed and Lia grinned at her brother. Yes he could be surly at times but when he was not he was a great wit and enjoyable company.

"Never mind what is not; instead focus on what is. In this case what is happens to be your dinner - on the table. Now go!" Gal threw Lia a cheeky smile before running off towards their cottage. Lia followed at a slower pace and joined her mother so they could walk back together.

"You keep that boy from being ridiculous you know." Lia looked at her mother questioningly. "You know how he can be at times. His moods are more changeable that the village girls and you know what flighty creatures they are!" Lia laughed appreciatively. "Yet you seem to ground him. I am ever thankful for that. Now he is a man and I see his father in him more than ever. He will want a wife soon, I expect, and what woman wants a man whose moods turn from sour to sweet in an instant?" Lia patted her mother's arm. Although the conversation seemed light she knew the older woman was loathe to part with either of her children. Since their father's death she had depended heavily on them both and they on her.

"Don't fret so mother. The time to think of such things is not yet here and I am sure..."

Her words were interrupted by the sound of thunder. Lianna and her mother looked to the sky and instantly Lia knew something was wrong. There was not a cloud above them. So if not thunder then...

"Horses?" she whispered. Instantly she dropped to the ground and put a hand to its surface. The grass was cool against her fingers and she waited...but not for long. There they were. The vibrations told Lia a large group was approaching - fast. "Mother; return to the house, lock the door and do not open it for anything." Her mother knew better than to argue and immediately picked up her skirts and began to run.

She realised too late she had underestimated how close the riders were. The sound of yelling came to her ears only seconds before she saw them appear on the road at the other end of the village – heading straight towards her mother.

"Run mother!" she yelled, dashing to catch up with the other woman. As she ran Lia pulled her bow from over her shoulder before realising she had no arrows with her. Her last had been ruined in the competition with Gal. Lia stopped, thinking frantically as she looked around, but could see nothing to use to defend herself. The men on horses were wearing the heavy furs and face paint of raiders. She had thought the Steward had gotten rid of all of their kind. Evidentially he had been remiss in his task. People were running from the raiders - but not fast enough. She saw people struck and trampled by swords and horses. Many of the men carried axes. The villagers didn't stand a chance.

"Mother!" she screamed as she realised her parent wasn't going to make it to the cottage in time. Lia briefly saw Gal come out of the cottage, saw confusion and then horror register on his face. "GAL GET INSIDE!" she screamed. However the invaders approaching were upon him. Before she could move an axe was brought down and she saw her brother's head fly cleanly from his shoulders. "NO!" she shrieked. The horror of it made her want to stop thinking, to just run away and never look back. Yet her mother needed her. "Mother; come over to me!" she shrieked. Yet her mother had seen the fate of her son and had stopped dead. "Mother! Move, for the love of Gondor, MOVE!"

Lia began running again but she knew before the blow came that her mother was dead. The sweeping of the sword, the falling of her body, the horses trampling unceremoniously across her corpse...none of it mattered. She knew her mother was dead. Yet, unlike that which had happened with her parent, the loss did not make her freeze with sorrow. It made Lianna hungry for vengeance.

The screaming was loud in her ears as they came towards her; yet she blocked it out. The sound of horses hooves on the ground, the sound of death cries, the whisper if steel slicing through flesh... she blocked it all out. All she had a thought for was to survive long enough to exact her revenge as best she could. Instantly instinct took over. She leapt to the right and scrambled between two houses. They had been on the main street through the village which was home to the well and square. Now she was between the main road and the forest and her eyes alit upon exactly what she needed. It was an axe. It was sitting invitingly, lodged in a piece of wood, and she ran for it instantly. She was glad she did so for a moment later she heard the horses gallop past her hiding place and, flicking her glance backwards, saw a man dismount and make for her. He had seen her try to hide. It was fight or die now.

Tugging the axe desperately from the wood she had but a moment to gauge its weight. Greater than she could competently fight with, of that she was sure. Though, on that note, she did not know how to fight at all so the unwieldy manner of her weapon should be of no issue. It briefly occurred to her then that she was thinking far too much, considering the situation, before the man before her drew his sword and drove towards her.

Lia barely had time to dodge the blade as it appeared in the space where a second previously her body had been. Swinging the axe with all her might she brought it to the torso of the man and...the weapon became embedded in his flesh. She heard him grunt and could barely mask her surprise as he sunk to the ground; first to his knees and then onto his front. She hesitantly pulled the axe from him, using her foot to brace it, and then, without thought, swung it again and swiftly decapitated him. It was badly done but it gave her security. She couldn't risk him getting back up and stabbing her in the back. It was then she realised a number of things in very quick succession.

This was no seasoned warrior. For all his face paint and beheading and swords...that man should have easily been able to dodge her blow. He had not because he had not expected it and that was because he did not know how to fight. Lia had little knowledge of the practise herself but even she knew when to keep aware and to be ready to dodge a falling axe. Secondly she noted that none of them were wearing armour. If they had the man would have born only a bruise from her attack. Though how she could have killed him with one blow was beyond her, her strength was not that great; yet kill him she had. Thirdly...her thoughts were cut off by something uncanny. It was a sound, like a whining from far off, unfamiliar to her. Despite the danger she stopped and listened. Lia could not explain it but she felt that the sound was forcing her to listen...

"They're here!" she heard the yell and instantly looked up. They were on the other side of the houses and she had been standing in the open like a fool! Quickly moving she took a position behind one of the cottages and listened carefully. Her breathing sounded too loud to her own ears and she tried to quieten it as much as possible.

"Get ready men, today we spill Gondorian blood!" She thought through what the man had said. What did they mean by Gondorian blood? Their ignorance was plain, none but outsiders called those from Gondor by that term. Yet if they meant to blood of people of Gondor then surely they had already spilt enough of that in the village!

Then that sound again, deeper in pitch this time, like a call. A call, she thought, a battle call. In that instance she knew exactly what was approaching. The sound which had so puzzled her was the horn of Gondor which meant only one thing; the Steward's son was coming.