Chapter Twelve: Éowyn's Request
It was not long after the liberation of Théoden King from Saruman's control that talk of war began to spread through Edoras. The White Wizard would not long suffer this humiliation and would certainly increase his attack for the decimation of Rohan now that his intent was openly known. The upper hand was his as well with Erkenbrand's battalion far out of contact range on its way to the Fords of Isen.
Gríma had been exiled from the city and Éomer released from prison and then the King had been stricken with a grief blacker than the smoke that now belched forth from the pits of Isengard to discover his beloved Théodred dead. And it was in this grief that Théoden vowed there would be no more blind deaths at the hands of the Enemy and against the council of Gandalf decreed that Rohan would make its stand at the fortress of Helm's Deep.
This new command had brought hope even to Éowyn who saw that the chance had now come to prove alongside her people that the Rohirrim would not go quietly and without a fight. But this hope was soon dashed almost as quickly as it had been formed. Théoden ordered Éowyn to stay in his place with the women and children and lead their people to take refuge at Dunharrow. The stand at Helm's Deep would draw the Enemy away and they would be safe.
"He thinks I cannot fight," said Éowyn. "He stands by foolish biases when they need every sword they can get."
"Gandalf says that this plan does not bode well for Rohan," said Halbyn. "And while I do not know what he has seen I have been taught for good reason not to doubt him. While Théoden can think of no other path upon which to lead his people at least he places confidence in you to lead the Rohirrim should the stand at Helm's Deep meet an unfavorable outcome."
"Greyhame has taught you well to put a political face on such a situation," said Éowyn. "But you are right about one thing: it is the least that he considers me. I had hoped to never again watch my kin go to war and their doom after Théodred fell. Now it is both my uncle and my brother I must endure to lose without a chance to protect them."
Éowyn fell silent and Halbyn did not reply for some time. She was carefully considering whether or not to say what was weighing heavily on her mind and stole a glance at the Shieldmaiden's pale face before coming to a decision.
"I was the youngest of my family and only a child when my two brothers went to the battle in which they were destined to meet their end. My father fell into despair as there was nobody to carry on his bloodline. My mother had died a year after I was born and father would not take another wife." Éowyn turned her head slowly to regard the Ranger but Halbyn did not acknowledge the motion. She was gazing out into the late afternoon sky watching the blue change to pink and soft lavender with each minute that passed. "I decided that it was up to me to make my father proud and honour my lost brothers," Halbyn continued. "I told him I wanted to be a warrior and he allowed me to train with the boys. Because I was smaller and lighter I was able to master the art of moving silently and hiding in the shadows sooner than the others.
"Aragorn watched me often and soon asked my father's permission to take me with him on his journeys and complete my training. He taught me to hone my skills and to fight in both the ways of Men and Elves. He said that I had great strength inside of me."
"I have seen that strength already in the short time I have known you," said Éowyn.
Halbyn half-smiled and cast a sideways glance at the other woman. "My lady, have you been spying on me?"
"I had to ensure you were trustworthy, of course," Éowyn replied. "But at least you have had a chance to prove yourself."
"My true strength and trustworthiness have yet to be proven," the Ranger said simply and noting the other woman's questioning look did not hesitate to continue. "My loyalty is divided. My heart is here with my land, my people and my liege, but Queen Galadriel has revealed my soul to be shared with another. Should the time come at last to choose, how then will my strength hold?"
Éowyn had no words with which to respond and she was then summoned away by Gamling to speak with Théoden. Halbyn watched her go, feeling strongly the other woman's frustration, and then made her way out of the Golden Hall into the cool afternoon air.
She turned her eyes to the East then for a moment as she walked slowly down the path from Meduseld and her gaze was unconsciously drawn across the long grasses and rocky plains of Rohan to where she knew the sparkling water of the roaring Anduin ran deep. Beyond lay the swampy fenland of the Dead Marshes and to the south the green woodland of Ithilien, marking the farthest east she had ever dared venture. Then her eye line drifted east again until, had she the farsight of the Eldar, she would have locked her stare on the black tower of Minas Morgul.
A wave of nausea swept over her and she stumbled off the path and clutched the burning hot pain in her side. Her blood began to pound in her ears and grew louder and louder until it was the only thing she could hear. Her breath caught in her throat and her chest tightened as the shallow rasps could not fill her lungs. She struggled to free her gaze from the hold of the Dead City and her eyes began to sting and tear, so desperate they were to blink. Her stomach wrenched and she dropped to one knee and then above the throbbing in her ears another sound arose. A piercing shriek that was at first a faint whisper but began to crescendo in both pitch and volume until Halbyn's hands flew to her ears and she clawed frantically at the side of her head in an attempt to dig out the penetrating voice of the Lord of the Nazgûl. She opened her mouth in a silent agonized scream, any sound having vanished with her stolen breath. Her vision blurred and darkened around the edges and the scar on her side seemed to burst open and flood her entire body with black fire. She sank again now to both knees, willing the pain to end.
And then it was gone, stopped just as suddenly as it had begun, and Halbyn squeezed tight her eyes. She drew deep into her lungs the sweet cool air and became aware of a strong hand firmly gripping her shoulder. The shrieking and pounding in her head had been silenced and she realized she could now hear a familiar voice calling her name. Unable yet to find words she grasped the hand and waited for her heartbeat to steady.
"I'm all right," she breathed, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.
"What happened?" Aragorn asked. His voice was laced with deep concern.
"I don't know," she replied and used his support to pull herself to her feet. "A thought came to my mind – a suggestion even – to look a ways hence," she pointed southeast. "I could see nothing unusual and yet a clear image I perceived of what lay in that direction and who it is that rules within those walls.
"He is toying with me!" she said and turned to Aragorn with eyes full of fear. "I am nothing to him and yet he mocks me still. Within my thoughts remains a piece of his dark influence."
"No doubt it amuses him to hold this power over a mortal, and one so close in Gandalf's council," Aragorn frowned. "I can only guess as to his purpose if he has one beyond his own sadistic pleasure."
The sun was nearly set and the two Rangers walked in silence to the stables. Lumbulë had returned the previous night at Halbyn's call and she went to him now and lovingly stroked his peppery mane. He whinnied softly and nudged her shoulder and watched her closely with his wet black eyes. He could sense something amiss in her manner and nudged her again in concern.
"I am unhurt," she told him and reassuringly rubbed his neck.
"It would be best to take council with Gandalf on this matter," Aragorn said. He fed Hasufel a handful of oats from a nearby barrel and then moved to inspect the leather bridle that hung on the stable wall. "In any case, Théoden means to make for Helm's Deep at dawn. I worry now for your part in this journey."
Halbyn's eyes burned then as Éowyn's frustration at being unable to fight came to the front of her mind. She moved from Lumbulë to the stable window and her voice was hard when she spoke. "I hope you do not mean to leave me behind."
Aragorn turned to look at her though her gaze remained locked in surveillance of the darkening fields of Rohan. He did not respond immediately and instead took note of the angry gleam in her eye. His expression went unchanged and he gathered his thoughts before he spoke. "I cannot remember a time when I asked you without reason to leave my side."
"Because you value my skill as a warrior."
"Because I value your unquestioning loyalty."
Halbyn felt her cheeks grow hot with the guilt of her unprovoked accusation. "Forgive me. I had no right."
"On the contrary," Aragorn allowed a small smile to cross his face as he realized for whom this anger was derived. He moved to her side and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "It is that loyalty that you extend to all those you call friend. It is admirable and part of the reason that I took it upon myself to train you.
"Éowyn however has no training or knowledge of war and Théoden knows though he does not show it that there is little hope surrounding this coming battle. He thinks of her as his own and sees no point in putting her forth in such a risk. Especially now that mortality is so very real for him with the loss of his only son."
"I understand," Halbyn replied. "But that will not calm the Shieldmaiden's angry heart."
"Nor should it," Aragorn said and then he would speak on the matter no more and she did not press him further.
Gandalf sent for them then and upon their arrival told them of his intentions to leave and seek aid for the nearing war. He was quite certain it was necessary for them to survive Helm's Deep and bade them to look for his coming at dawn three days hence. Though he had a mind to leave that moment he stayed his flight, sensing the Rangers had something of importance to tell him. Halbyn relayed the lingering effects of the Black Breath as they accompanied him back to the stables.
"The Witch-King of Angmar is deep within Sauron's council," Gandalf hummed half to himself. "Perhaps it is in the Dark Lord's mind that control over one of the Dùnedain might reveal the heir of Elendil prematurely from within their ranks?" The wizard's eyes peered out from beneath his bushy eyebrows and regarded both Aragorn and Halbyn carefully. "This cannot come to pass at this time," he said finally. "The two of you must make certain of that. One side now – I must fly from this place for I have lost precious minutes already. Away, Shadowfax!" He leapt upon the great steed and was gone.
The sun had long since bid farewell to the sky and the waxing moon had nearly reached the peak of her journey when Halbyn spoke to Éowyn again.
The Ranger sat on her own on the winding stone stairway carved into the hill on top of which stood the Golden Hall. She had her eyes closed and her hood drawn back and was absently running her slender fingers along the hilt of her sword as she listened intently to the sounds of the night. A cool, gentle wind was blowing across the plain, rustling the long grasses and thatched roofs of the city. Crickets and grasshoppers played their chirping melody in every direction. Wooden houses creaked and settled in their foundations. From the stables a horse whinnied and was answered by another. A dog barked once and then gave an uneasy whine and fell silent. Scraping footsteps of patrolling guards came from Meduseld. On the breeze was a faint scent, of burning and death.
And then there was a new sound – more footsteps but softer than those of the soldiers. The person was barefoot and walked cautiously but with purpose. Halbyn smiled.
"Something troubles you, my Lady?"
"What does the North wind tell you tonight, Ranger?" Éowyn asked curiously, saving her answer to Halbyn's question for later.
"It regrettably bears ill omen. Tidings of war and a heavy warning against this power Saruman sends to challenge Rohan. The beasts have smelled the proof it brings swiftly on its wings."
"It is about this war that I come now to speak to you," Éowyn began.
"My Lady," Halbyn opened her eyes now and regarded the cold sad face of the pale woman next to her. "I fear there is nothing I can do. I hold no authority in this land and can be of no help to you."
"But you can," Éowyn replied swiftly. "I bring to you a new request. You were sent here to watch over Éowyn the child of Éomund, his only daughter. Now I beg you to extend this duty to his son, my brother Éomer. Protect him in this hopeless battle."
Halbyn took only a moment to look into the pleading eyes of the White Lady of Rohan. Éowyn had resolved that if she could not be there for her kindred then she would set the task upon her servant in her stead. The Ranger did not ever debate her answer.
"Rest easy. No blade or bowstring shall claim victory over Éomer son of Éomund save by first cutting down Halbyn of the Dùnedain."