Brego
Chapter 1
The stallion reared up, screaming his challenge. The wall of the courtyard echoed it, resounding upon the ears of the listeners. He would not allow himself to be saddled. Never would he allow his will to be bent to the will of man. Yet here this man stood, golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. Why is it that they believe themselves to be rulers? They rule no one but themselves, yet they say they are the Horse-lords. The stallion snorted angrily. No saddle would be placed on his back. No metal bit would control his head. Never.
Théodred laughed at the stallion's challenge. His father had told him the Shadowfax was to be his horse, but the proud meras would not let the heir come near. So Théodred had settled for a lesser-blooded stallion, but Brego was no less spirited then Shadowfax. Brego had already attempted to run Théodred over twice, yet Théodred had chosen Brego to be his horse only an hour ago. "Brego," Théodred called softly. "Come here, Brego. I will not harm you. I promise. As long as you and I live, I will not let harm come to you." The stallion stopped his screaming. He seemed soothed by the soft words. This gave Théodred hope. From behind his back, Théodred produced an apple. "Here you go, Brego. This is for being such a pretty boy." Brego pricked up his ears. "Apple! I like apples!" Théodred laughed at the stallion's reaction. "You aren't as tough as we all thought, huh?" Brego nickered and took a few steps. He stopped and waited to see Théodred's reaction. Théodred just stood there. So Brego took a few more steps and stopped. Once again, Théodred just stood there. So the pattern continued, until Brego was mere paces away from Théodred.
Maybe this human was not so bad. He spoke soothing words, and was not cruel like the others. He brought apples and stroked Brego. It had been a couple of days, so Brego was not surprised when the golden-haired man brought out a saddle and bridle. What was surprising was that Brego found himself all tacked up with the golden-haired man on top his back. Well, this wasn't so bad. So long as the man didn't saw at the reins, or kick him in the ribs. If he did, Brego would throw the man, and that would be the end of that. But the man did neither of those things, Brego found. He had a light touch, and Brego found it easy to bear him, even when the man put on his funny metal clothing. There was one day when the man came out to his stable, but was not himself. He seemed anxious, and Brego got excited, and a bit nervous. He didn't know what was going to happen, but he couldn't wait to find out.
Théodred sighed. He really did not want to have to go out on this patrol. It seemed like a waste of time. He would much rather stay at Edoras practicing his swordsmanship, or working with Brego some more. The only good thing really was that Théodred got to take his beloved stallion with him. "At least you will be exercised. You might even get to run," he murmured to the bay. Brego tossed his head in response. "Okay, okay. I get the message. Hurry up or they will leave without us." He laughed. The bay stallion was the smartest horse in the stables, next to Shadowfax, of course. "Let's get going then."
Brego was in distress. He could not find the golden haired man. It had all happened so quickly. One minute they were cantering along contently, the next they were being attacked from all sides. Brego had been so confused, and very frightened. One of the things had come near him, and Brego rose up to his hind legs in alarm. He did not know what they were, and he was scared. The creature had stepped back, and the golden-haired man had thrown his long stick at it. 'So this is battle!' Brego had thought. Then, it happened. A pack of wolves came howling from the woods, and attacked. The largest beast jumped clear over Brego's back, taking the golden-haired man with it. Brego had started in surprise when this happened, and thus lost the golden-haired man.
"Saurman will pay for his treachery," Éomer swore. He turned to speak to his men, "Find the king's son!" The fifty riders spread out to cover the scene of the battle. Éomer glanced around. Théodred has to be here somewhere, he thought.
"Over here, Éomer!" called on of his men suddenly. He ran over. It was one of the best riders who had found him, Éoman. In his arms was indeed the king's son.
"Good work. I'm going to leave you and 10 others here to clean up this area. If you come upon any of the missing horses, bring them back with you." Éomer grimaced at the man's pained expression. He knew it was the last thing that Éoman wanted to do, but he need the best men to do it. "I know you really don't want to, but I know that I can trust you to get the job done right."
"Of course Éomer, I know that," Éoman hesitated, "It's just that my wife is expecting a child, and she should deliver any day now."
"I see. You want to be there for the birth of your first child," Éomer said. "Do not worry. The cleanup will take no more than a day, at most."
"Very well Éomer. I will start immediately." Éoman replied.
Brego wandered for days. He could not find his stall, or even the golden-haired man. Then one day, a great host of riders came, and he called out to their mounts. The riders checked the horses, and circled him. Brego became nervous when they circled. But one tall man jumped out of his saddle, and talked in a soft voice that relaxed Brego, and he allowed a rope to go around his neck. On they went, until it felt like Brego could go no more. But there was no need, for as they turned the corner, they came upon the golden hall, and his stable. The kind rider put him in his stall and fed him, but did not come and ride him. Neither did the golden haired man come. Brego felt lonely, and in time he would let no man come near him.
"I will not bring further death to my people," Théoden said. "I will not risk open war."
Aragorn mentally rolled his eyes. He could not believe that the king could be so blind. "Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not," Aragorn could not resist saying.
Théoden turned to look at him, and the heir of Isildur calmly met his gaze. "When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan." He said it with surprising coldness.
"Then what is the king's decision?" Gandalf asked, saving Aragorn from the need to reply.
"I will move the people to Helm's Deep. It is a great fortress east of here. Saurman's arm will have grown long indeed if he thinks he can reach us there."
"Very well," Gandalf said, though it seemed to Aragorn that he was not pleased with the king's decision. Aragorn followed Gandalf as he walked out of the hall.
"Helm's Deep," he snorted. Aragorn knew for certain then that the wizard was not happy with Théoden's decision.
"Helm's Deep has saved them in the past. He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people." Aragorn told Gandalf.
"There is no way out of that ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap," Gandalf replied back.
Gimli came up behind the pair with Legolas not far behind. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will protect them if not their king?" Gimli asked.
The three companions followed Gandalf into the stable to Shadowfax's stall. Gandalf mounted, and then turned to Aragorn. "I must go and find Éomer. However, you go to Helm's Deep with the people of Rohan. Théoden has a strong mind, but I fear for him. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses have to hold."
"They will hold," Aragorn told him.
Gandalf turned so he was talking to Legolas and Gimli as well. "Look for my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."
"Go," was all Aragorn had time to reply before Shadowfax leapt away like an arrow from the bow.
Later that day, Aragorn was in the stables when he heard quite a commotion. Walking over, he found three men hanging onto the ends of ropes. At the other end was the most beautiful bay stallion Aragorn had ever seen. As he watched, the stallion rose up on his hind legs, striking out at the closest man. The horse's front legs hit the man, and he fell. One of the others dropped his rope to check on the fallen man, leaving only a single man holding the rope. Aragorn started over, but was stopped by a man, who said, "It's not worth it. That horse is half mad, my lord."
Aragorn paid the man no heed, and walk over to the remaining man and took the rope out of his hands. "Fast, be quiet now" he said in Elvish. The spirited horse quieted a little. "Be quiet now," Aragorn said." A battle is stirred up,they so they say." Aragorn paused; the horse was relaxing to the sound of his voice, and of course the magic of Elvish. "What is your name?'Hm? What is your name?"Aragorn quietly asked the horse. The stallion had quieted down now enough that Aragorn was able to say this in his ear.
"His name is Brego," said a voice from behind. Aragorn turned to find Eowyn, the king's niece, staring at him. "He was my cousin's horse."
Aragorn turned back to the horse, "Brego? Your name is kingly. What troubles you, Brego? What did you see?"
"I have heard of the magic of the magic of elves, but I did not expect it from a Ranger of the North," Eowyn told Aragorn.
"I was raised in Rivendell; for a time," Aragorn said, catching her hint. Anxious to turn away from the subject of his past, he handed her Brego's lead rope and told her, "Turn this fellow free. He has seen enough of war."
Brego was wandering once more. Only this time he knew that he would not be going back to the golden hall. They had turned him loose, yet the men had forgotten to take off the lead rope. No matter, he was free! Yet, freedom was not as joyful as Brego had expected. He could not keep his mind off of the dark haired man who had spoken to him in the stables. The dark-haired man had spoken, and Brego had understood. It was shocking to think that a man could know the language of animals. What had the man said to him? Something about his name being kingly, and what troubled him. If only he could have learnt the strange man's name! Then perhaps he could have found the man again. But that was impossible, for he was in the golden hall, and Brego was here, miles away from him. Or so he thought.
Aragorn groaned. His shoulder felt as though it was on fire. What in Arda had happened? He strained to remember. All he could remember was wargs. Wargs…. Of course! He had been going to Helm's Deep with the people of Edoras when the wargs had attacked. They had fought them, but somehow found himself on top of one with an orc. The orc had dived off, but Aragorn had been stuck and went over the edge of the cliff with the mad warg. Then, a rushing river had taken them both, yet Aragorn had survived it. He groaned again, and closed his eyes, hoping to find Arwen in his dreams.
What was that by the river? It was a man! Brego trotted closer. 'I know this man!' he thought. 'It is he from the stables. The one who talked to me! What is he doing here?' Brego walked even closer, until he was right next to the man. He bent his neck down and lipped the man's nose. Brego wanted him to get up so they could talk some more. "Brego," the name came out so soft that Brego almost didn't he it. 'Maybe if I kneel down, he could get on my back, and I'll take him back to the golden hall. "Come on, little one," he said to the man, "get on my back." He knelt down, and the man grabbed his mane, and heaved himself onto Brego's back. "That's it!" Brego waited until he was all the way on before standing up. "Where to?" Brego asked him.
Aragorn smiled. Now he was really glad that he told Eowyn to set Brego free. Without him, Aragorn might still be down by that river. But it was not so. Here they were, trotting across the fields of Rohan, heading ever towards Helm's Deep. But Aragorn would not arrive without information. He would tell the king of what he had seen a little while ago; a great host of orcs marching toward Helm's Deep. With that information, Aragorn could save hundreds, if not thousands, of life. And all because Aragorn had told Eowyn to set Brego free, and Brego had in return saved Aragorn from certain death by that riverside.