Chapter 10

As Lothiriel came down the terrace steps, she saw the small party gathered at the bottom. In their midst was a woman she recognized as serving in Meduseld, though she did not know her name or why she would be joining them.

Ceorl noticed her approach and came to meet her. "Lady Lothiriel," he said with a nod.

"Good morning, Ceorl. I appreciate your willingness to indulge me for the day."

"I did not mind at all, I assure you. Come, there is someone I would like you to meet." He guided her over to where the woman was adjusting the saddle on a horse. She turned to them when Ceorl called her name.

"Seftehad, I would have you meet Lady Lothiriel. This is Seftehad..." He paused, then said, "My betrothed." He flushed slightly with embarrassment.

"Indeed! An honor then," Lothiriel said, smiling at the both of them. "You are joining us for this adventure?"

Seftehad had bobbed a hasty curtsy, and now nodded shyly. "Yes. Ceorl anticipated you might like to have another woman along, and Durucwen was kind enough to let me out of my duties for the day."

"Excellent! But do not think you must spend the entire day amusing me. By all means, enjoy the outing with Ceorl as well. Aside from requiring a guide and someone to answer my questions, I do not need waiting upon."

For a moment, all just stood smiling at one another, until Ceorl said, "If we are ready, let us depart." He gestured to his right where a horse stood waiting for Lothiriel. To her relief, it was not the horse taken from the bandits. It was not the horse's fault, but she did not think she could ever look at it without remembering. She idly wondered what they had done with the animal.

Ceorl helped her to mount and get her stirrups adjusted. When he finished, everyone else had mounted. Ceorl did also and took his place at the head of the column for the departure. Lothiriel and Seftehad rode just behind him.

For the few minutes it took to get down the hill and through the gate, little was spoken in their party, all content to enjoy the early morning silence. Lothiriel used the silence to muse on the unusual couple of Ceorl and Seftehad. In appearance, they were completely different. She was a round, stout girl who probably was only a smidge over five feet tall, with bright red hair and freckles that massed her face and neck. Lothiriel could even see them on her arms where they weren't covered by the woman's dress. Conversely, Ceorl was tall and lean, with almost white-blond hair, eyebrows and beard. Still, she had seen the glint in their eyes as they looked at one another. Love it was, regardless of differences in outward form.

Seftehad turned out to be a chatterbox. Once her initial shyness slipped away, she rambled on about anything and everything. Lothiriel could not decide if it was a sign of nerves or just her nature, but certainly she passed along morsels of information of the sort Lothiriel would never have gleaned from Eomer or Eothain, or from Eowyn, either. None of the household gossip was off limits. Certainly it would be tiresome to listen to this on a constant basis, but Lothiriel found it an amusing diversion for the ride. The men were never very inclined to converse with her, even if they felt comfortable speaking Westron. Other than Eothain her ride to Edoras had been mostly silent for her part.

When they reached the path that turned up the mountain, Ceorl glanced back and Lothiriel caught a look passing between him and Seftehad. Apparently it was prompting her to curtail her chattering for after that she eased up. She was still willing to talk, though, so when they could ride side by side on the path Lothiriel asked about her life, what she did at Meduseld, and her pending marriage to Ceorl.

Seftehad sighed. "I have been trying to sew a new dress for it, but I am not sure I will finish before he rides to Gondor. I am not very good at needlework," she confessed. "I was hoping to surprise Ceorl with it," she said softly to keep Ceorl from hearing.

"Perhaps you would allow me to assist you," Lothiriel offered conspiratorially. "Ladies of Gondor are expected to know needlework, and are given much practice at it." She made a face to indicate that it was not her most favorite pursuit.

Seftehad laughed, but when Lothiriel eyed her questioningly, she said, "You are serious? You would help me?"

"Of course. I do not have enough to do here, and I welcome the opportunity to give something back for all that I have received. Ceorl has been quite willing to answer my questions when I had no one else to do it, and was even willing to take me on this excursion. I should indeed like to help, if it would please you."

For once, Seftehad was at a loss for words, but finally she gave a small gulp and nodded. "Thank you. I would like that."

The fairly straight trail soon led to a series of switchbacks, that climbed the mountain. At each turning, there was an odd carved stone figure. "We call them 'Pukel-men', 'goblin men' in the common tongue," Ceorl explained, when they stopped briefly to rest the horses from the exertion. "You will see them at each turning of the road. The Druedain who lived in this area many long years ago carved them. I am not sure what their purpose was. It is said that in their own tongue they referred to them as 'watch stones."

Lothiriel cocked her head to the side as she examined the one standing next to her on the road. She mused, "I wonder what they originally looked like. These are so weathered, it is difficult to tell."

"I do not know for certain, but when we rode to Gondor, the Hobbit Merry was reminded of these when he saw Ghan-buri-Ghan, the leader of the Woses. They are supposed to be the last remnants of the Druedain." Ceorl straightened in this saddle. "We should get moving."

They reached the top just before the noon hour, and while the men set up a small camp and prepared a meal, Ceorl walked with Lothiriel and Seftehad, explaining how the location was used. "This is called Firienfeld," he told them, gesturing to a flat, grassy plateau on the eastern side of the valley. This is where the troops muster and camp." He pointed to each of three mountains, saying, "The Starkhorn, the Irensaga, and…Dwimorberg, the Haunted Mountain." The path they had ridden up continued on eastward across the plateau, bordered by uncarved standing stones, leading to a forest at the foot of the Dimholt.

"And where does the path lead?"

"Through the Dimholt – the dark wood – lies the Dark Door and the Paths of the Dead."

Lothiriel shivered. The very names of these places suggested the unpleasant history Ceorl had spoken of before. She turned away and walked toward the overlook down on the valley spread below, and the other two followed her.

"I can see why this would be your refuge when under attack," she commented at length. "It is extremely defensible. I am not sure any enemy could launch a sufficient assault using that road."

Ceorl chuckled. "Indeed! Not to mention that most of our enemies in recent years have been from Mordor. The orcs being afraid of the Pukel-men was a decided advantage."

She pursed her lips. "But how do you get enough supplies up here? Surely wains cannot traverse those sharp turns."

"Mostly pack animals. You are right about wains. The eoreds usually travel with remounts, to be able to rest their horses, or replace them if they are injured. Those horses also carry supplies that diminish as we go."

"Very efficient." She paused, then asked, "Have you had to use this retreat very often? I have heard mention of the battle at the Hornburg. Is not that a retreat also?"

"Not often. Most notably, other than recently, was during the Long Winter, when the Dunlendings managed to take over Rohan. The Hornburg serves as a retreat for the Westfold. King Helm led most of the Eorlingas there when the Dunlendings invaded, until Frealaf was able to drive them out of our lands. We use both or either refuge as needed." He paused, then added, "Theodred had his base at the Hornburg since he was Marshal over the West-mark, just as Eomer had his base at Aldburg in the East-mark.

"Before we rode to Gondor, we had our own battles. Eowyn led the people here while Theoden took the army to confront the wizard. That resulted in the recent great battle in the West-mark."

"Why did not everyone retreat to the Hornburg?"

"It would have taken too long. Most were on foot, or in small carts or wains. We rode hard to be there and set up our defenses in a single day. The enemy began their assault not long after midnight."

"And…Erkenbrand is now the Marshal of the West-mark? Was he not one of the men Eomer met with at Aldburg?"

Ceorl nodded. "Erkenbrand was the Lord of the Westfold and lived at the Hornburg. After Theodred was killed, he became commander there. When Eomer became king he made him Marshal of the West-mark."

Lothiriel sighed. "That is too common a tale, is it not? Battlefield promotion because a leader is lost?"

"Yes, unfortunately. But Erkenbrand had served and fought with Theodred for many years. He was well experienced, and deserving, when he took on that responsibility. I am only sorry it came at the loss of Theodred."

Lothiriel shook her head. "I do admire Kings and military leaders that know how to plan for battle and defense. I should be quite at a loss."

"It comes of training and experience – plenty of effort obtaining both," Ceorl answered quietly.

She met his eyes, then nodded. "Yes, you are right. A child is not born knowing about warfare. And, perhaps now, there will be fewer who must learn it."

Ceorl had grown increasingly restrained in his conversation. Finally, he admitted, "Forgive me…I do not like to speak of war and battles to a lady."

"I suppose we have all seen our fill of it, each in our own ways."

Lothiriel's attention turned again to the mountain behind them. "You say Aragorn went through the mountain on his way to Pelargir? How long did that take?"

Ceorl contemplated the question briefly. "He was moving fast, of course, but he left Dunharrow about the seventh and was on the Pelennor by the fifteenth. I do not know the road, though. Certain parts of it may have been quicker than others. I do not think there is an actual road for all of it."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Lothiriel's face but was quickly gone. "That is a pity. It might make for a quicker route between north and south."

Ceorl hesitated, then shook his head. "I would doubt that. The road passes under the mountain. The dwarf Gimli spoke of how very dark it was in there, even with torches. I would estimate it took them near ten hours, based on the stories I heard, and horses would not like traveling in blackness for long periods. I hear it was not easy to get the horses to go in. Certainly we Eorlingas wouldn't be comfortable. Even if Aragorn did free the ghost army and remove that danger, I doubt my people would wish to travel that road."

Lothiriel chewed her lip, then shrugged. "I suppose you are right. It was a thought, anyway."

Ceorl eyed her curiously for that remark, but she turned away without explaining it.

There was not a great deal more to be seen, as Eothain had warned, so they settled down for their meal and to rest before starting the trek back down the mountain. At the head of the trail, Lothiriel took one last regretful look behind her before nudging her horse into the descent.

Visiting the site had put a damper on the mood of Lothiriel's escort. Though Seftehad chattered periodically about trivial subjects, the men were quieter, not conversing amongst themselves to any great extent.

Dusk was coming upon them, and Lothiriel realized how weary she was even with their uneventful outing. Still, she had left Meduseld and spent the day with people, and that must be counted as progress toward her recovery. Even so, she was eager to get back, and looking forward to a hot meal.

Coming down the trail, Lothiriel caught periodic glimpses of Edoras when there were breaks in the trees. Unfortunately, she could not distinguish details in the gathering twilight. She had noticed a bright spot twice, but it appeared larger the third time she saw it.

She stopped her horse. "Ceorl, what is that?"

He looked back toward her, and then in the direction she was pointing. Seeing nothing, he turned his horse to move back up the trail and stopped beside her, looking over his shoulder from this vantage. "What?"

"That light, there on the…west side of Edoras. It looks to grow larger, maybe because we move toward it, but I cannot figure out what it might be. A cook fire, perhaps?"

Finally Ceorl saw what she was noticing and inhaled sharply. He looked at Cielbrand and spoke quickly in Rohirric. Then, to Lothiriel, he said, "Cielbrand will see you safely the rest of the way. I must ride on ahead." With that he turned his horse and hurried down the trail.

She watched him in puzzlement, then glanced back at Seftehad. "What is it?" she asked. "What is wrong?"

"Fire."

Lothiriel did not miss the note of fear underlying that single word. As they continued on their way, their pace quickened, and she realized that it made perfect sense. In the stone cities of her homeland, fire was also a danger – a danger anywhere – but with all of the wooden structures here, it surely was greater. The whole party was on edge as they hurried their return as fast as they dared in the gathering darkness.

A quarter of an hour later, they heard a frantic horn blowing in the distance. It sounded too near to be from Edoras, and Seftehad told her, "Ceorl. He is trying to alert them in case they have not yet noticed it."

Cielbrand added, "It would be suppertime just now. Everyone will be inside. If the fire is outside, it may not have been discovered."

Suddenly, a great many horns were blowing in the distance. Whether alerted by Ceorl or not, clearly they were aware of the fire now. The company breathed a collective sigh of relief, though the tension did not ease. Discovering it was good, getting it put out quickly was vital.

They rode through the gates into chaos. Well, frenzied activity at the very least – there was order to the rush of men with buckets. Cielbrand led them off to the less busy side of the road and quickly up the hill, not wanting to get in the way of the workers. Half their company split off midway up, returning to their stables lower on the hill. Only four continued to the top, including Lothiriel and Seftehad. Cielbrand took charge of their horses at the bottom of the terrace and sent them on inside.

Seftehad was looking around frantically for Ceorl, as she had been all the way up the hill. Lothiriel had noticed then and helped her look, but neither of them had spotted him. "I am sure he is fine," Lothiriel soothed the other woman. "No doubt he stopped to help with the efforts to put out the fire and we simply could not see him in the darkness. He will find you when he can."

Seftehad gulped, but nodded, choosing to believe Lothiriel's words though her stomach was less reassured. The two parted ways as Seftehad hurried off to find Durucwen and learn if she was needed. The main hall still had people eating, but it was rushed and they obviously were hurrying to finish. For a moment, Lothiriel was not sure why that was, but just then two men came through the front doors, assisting another man between them. Her appetite fled at the sight of scorched flesh, and she looked away, before hurrying off to her room.

Once there, she sat on the bed gulping in air. She could only assume that Meduseld was being used as a gathering place for any who were injured. That would explain why those eating were hastening their departure – they wanted to clear space.

Lothiriel sat there for nearly a quarter of an hour, then steeled herself and rose. The sight and smell was overwhelming, yes, but it was far worse for the injured. She could not sit here cowering in her room if there was anything she might do to help. Changing quickly into different clothes, she pulled on one of the aprons over it that she used in the garden. It had several pockets which might be of use, and it covered the front of her dress to help keep it clean.

Taking one last steadying breath, she opened the door and made for the hall. Already, several more injured men had arrived, as well as members of a family. She surmised the burning building might be their home and they had been hurt before escaping. Her stomach wanted to revolt at the sight of the worst afflictions, but she shoved such images to the fringes of her mind. It took concerted effort not to look toward the most severely injured and undo her control. After several minutes, she located Eomer and Eowyn in the hall. Trying to ignore the smell of smoke and injury, she waded through the crowd in their direction.

"Can I be of assistance?"

Eomer and Eowyn turned at Lothiriel's question to eye her uncertainly. "You know the skills of healing?" Eomer's question did not reflect confidence in the answer. He thought very highly of Lothiriel, and she had been ever willing to help whenever possible, but he could not quite imagine her tending the sick or injured.

"Well…no…not really. My father did not think that was an occupation for his daughter – part of the sheltering I have mentioned." She had never questioned her father's decisions before, but in the past six months she had come to think that perhaps that overprotectiveness had done her a disservice. One could not be protected from everything unpleasant in life. It must be dealt with, and experience made that easier to do. She straightened with determination. "But I have two able hands and a quick mind. I am willing to do whatever is needed that will help."

The siblings looked at one another, debating her offer. Finally, Eowyn said, "Thank you, Lothiriel. We can use every hand. Come, I will introduce you to the healer and he can assign you a task." Eomer started to speak, but stopped himself, and allowed them to depart from him.

The evening stretched on. Fortunately, most of those brought in suffered from all the smoke they had inhaled more than from worse injuries, but they were exhausted and soot-covered all the same. Cots had been set up and Lothiriel was assigned to these less needy patients, providing drinks of water, and helping to wash the grime from their faces and hands in order to make them more comfortable.

She had been working for over an hour when she spotted Ceorl being tended by the healer nearby. "Ceorl! You are hurt?" She set down the pitcher she was carrying and hurried over to him. He smiled reassuringly at her. "It is not very bad. A burning piece of wood struck my arm, but it is not serious."

"Seftehad has been looking for you. She is very worried. I will send someone to find her."

He started to protest, but then simply nodded, too weary to argue and eager to see his betrothed. After dispatching a servant to find the woman, Lothiriel returned to her duties, but keeping watch until she was sure Seftehad had been found.

After that, Lothiriel didn't notice the passage of time. Word had come that the fire was out and only two buildings were lost to it. Another nearby had been damaged, but could be salvaged. Those who were feeling better had departed for their own homes, leaving the crowd in the hall diminished.

"Have you eaten?"

Lothiriel jumped at the voice behind her, and turned to find Eomer eyeing her with concern. "Oh…no, I suppose I have not. At first I could not stomach even the idea of eating, but then we were all so busy that I put it from my mind. Now that you mention it, I am hungry. I have not eaten since dinner at Dunharrow."

The healer had overheard their conversation and interjected, "You have done enough, miss. Go and eat, then rest. I have sufficient help for now."

She hesitated, unsure if he was telling her the truth, but he smiled and reiterated, "Go!"

Eomer caught her elbow and gestured to his right. She nodded and set down the pitcher nearby in case it was needed and followed the king to his private dining chamber. He saw her seated and went to send someone to fetch a light meal. When he returned, she asked, "How late is it, anyway? I have lost track."

"Nearly midnight." He paused, then told her, "It proved fortunate that you wished to see Dunharrow. Ceorl tells me you were the first to spot the fire, and it had not been discovered until we heard his horn blowing. It might have done far more damage if it had gone undetected longer. It was on one of the backstreets, and most were indoors for the night already."

"Then I am glad I mentioned it to him. I did not know what I was seeing and was merely curious. Ceorl is the one who recognized it for what it was and hurried to sound the alarm."

Changing the subject, Eomer asked, "How was your outing? Did you see all that you wished?"

"Oh, yes, thank you for letting me go. Ceorl was very good at explaining the history to me, and it was fascinating to see the Pukel-men. He brought Seftehad to keep me company. I was pleased to make her acquaintance."

Eomer chuckled. "No doubt he also brought her so he might steal several hours with her as well. He will ride with us to Minas Tirith and be parted from her again for a month. It has been hard for them with him often away."

A servant arrived bearing a tray with a cold meal upon it, and set it in front of Lothiriel. She eyed the King when nothing was given to him as well. "You have already eaten?"

"Yes, before the uproar began." Suddenly, he blinked. "Oh, I forgot. A letter came during your absence. In all the excitement I did not think of it. Let me fetch it while you eat."

When he returned, he handed her the letter and resumed his seat, remaining silent while she read it. Around bites of food, she turned it over, noting her father's seal – she had expected he would write when he received Eomer's message.

2 Jun 3019

My dearest girl,

Words cannot convey my profound relief upon reading Eomer's missive informing us that you were found and safe. After surviving the war unscathed, I thought I should die from a far worse injury when I arrived in Lossarnach and learned of your abduction. We have been searching ever since for any clue as to your whereabouts. Indeed, Amrothos and Erchirion are still out with their search parties, but should return soon. I only arrived back in the White City yesterday and found the letter waiting for me.

While I am desperate to have you returned to us, I completely understand your not wanting to inconvenience Eomer when they will be coming to Minas Tirith in the near future anyway. Yet I will watch for you from sunrise on the day you are due to arrive.

Violence in Lossarnach, and not even at the hands of Mordor, is utterly appalling. It has always been the most peaceful of places. Old Borduin was bereft that he could not protect you, despite the near-fatal wound he suffered. Were it not for Belthoniel's skill in healing (you may know that her sister works in the Healing Houses), I do not think he would have survived.

What more is there to say except that I miss you greatly, as do your brothers, and we very much look forward to the day our family can all be reunited.

Your loving father

She sat back, heaving a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness!"

Eomer's eyebrow rose questioningly, causing her to explain, "One of our cousin's servants tried to defend me against them, and they struck him down. Father tells me he has survived. Until now I feared he had not."

"He is a brave man to challenge them, even knowing it was hopeless. Your cousin is fortunate to have one so true in her household."

She reflected on this, then said, "Brave, yes, but also foolish. He stood no chance. I have never wanted anyone harmed on my account."

"That is understandable, but sometimes it is the right thing to do. If we do not stand against evil, then it runs rampant and many more are harmed."

She looked closely at him, then nodded. "Yes, I suppose that is true. I did not see it in that way."

He stood. "I have final tasks to see to ere the night ends. Finish your meal and take your rest. It has been a very long day for you. Thank you for your help."

She smiled tiredly and resumed eating as he departed.

TBC

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Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg

Ceorl – rider of Rohan, in Eomer's company (a ceorl was an independent peasant landowner; also contains the element éo meaning "horse")

Glydged – "slippery speech" – stableman at Aldburg who was injured in the war

Wídfara - may mean something like "far traveller" or "wide wanderer"; he was a Rider of Rohan and fought on the Pelennor, but now has taken over running the inn from his aged father.

Lachthoniel – "flame kindler" – waspish woman in Minas Tirith who is eager to gossip

Blidhe – "gentle, kind" - servant girl at Aldburg who attends Lothiriel

Metehad – "small person" – servant girl at Meduseld who attends Lothiriel

Borduin – "faithful river" – elderly servant in Lossarnach who was struck down by the bandits when Lothiriel was kidnapped

Belthoniel – "kindler of strength" [Bell (or bel) – strong; -thoniel – kindler (fem.)] – servant in Lossarnach with healing skills; in this story, she is a sister of Ioreth

Seftehad – "pleasant person" – Ceorl's betrothed

Cielbrand – "cold sword" – Rider who rode with Ceorl in showing Dunharrow to Lothiriel

Heorleod – "pleasant man" – minstrel who was at Minas Tirith for battle and learned Gondorian music

Madalwin – "meeting friend" – one of Eomer's advisers who tries to suggest Lothiriel as a possible queen choice

Caladael – "pool of light" – Lothiriel's maidservant in Gondor

Balaras – "powerful deer" – Imrahil's steward at Dol Amroth

Wigmer – "famous battle or warrior" – Eomer's esquire

END NOTE: Until now, in many of my stories, including a couple of times in the Elfwine Chronicles, I have made use of the Dimholt as faster passage between Rohan and Belfalas. While it is true that Aragorn and company made that trip at need, even with the Dead being gone, discussions with Certh and further reading lead me to conclude it is not a viable route on a casual basis. Parts are steep and difficult to traverse, and even Gimli who was used to the darkness underground commented on how very dark it was through the mountain passage. Neither did the horses want to go into the tunnel and had to be persuaded. I will not attempt to go back and correct earlier stories that have made use of this route, and that includes in the Elfwine Chronicles – for continuity sake, it will remain a possible route. But going forward, future stories will be accurate to the actuality.