Disclaimer: I do not own Batman nor do I own Lord of the Rings. They are the sole property of DC Comics and JRR Tolkien.
Chapter 24
Hunting Orcs and Riding Horses
Robin glance down at his new clothing for the fifth time and did his best to hold back a groan. Clad in a slightly baggy dark green Rohan soldier uniform, he felt like one of those geeks he had seen at the Gotham Renaissance Festival that Ives had dragged him to a couple years ago.
Middle-Earth had a lot of things going for it: beautiful scenery, diverse and amazing cultures, but itchy wool britches and heavy metal armor weren't among them.
When Éomer had given him the uniform he had felt slightly apprehensive. It was one thing that Éomer wanted him to join his army, but if he had been expecting new subordinates, then the Horse Marshal would be in for a rude awakening.
"I'm not one of your soldiers," he had said firmly to Éomer, when the Horse Marshal had first suggested the new clothes and armor. "So don't expect me act like one, cause that ain't going to happen. I'll travel with you guys. I'll fight alongside you guys. But that's it. I'm not going to blindly follow your orders. If I find my friends and I choose to leave, that's it."
Éomer though had simply nodded his head. "Of course. I would never make such an assumptions, my friend. You are free to come and go as you wish at any point during our journey. I hold you to no oath or responsibility to remain with my company." And with that sorted out, Robin had then accepted the clothes somewhat reluctantly though without further comment.
Still, there was no denying that he really would have been much happier in his Robin costume, but as so many people (including himself) had mentioned, that costume was reaching the end of its existence. It was dirty, tattered and ripped, not to mention it reeked like a dead otter. And he was pretty certain that the Kevlar's protection had been compromised badly by his fall a week ago. Frankly it was a kind of surprising that the costume had lasted this long. Nearly full six months since he landed in Middle-Earth that had to have been some sort of record.
He still continued to wear his mask and his utility belt as well as he boots, though. He had finally chosen to done the Lórien cloak Galadriel had given him in exchange for his old black and gold cape, which was now backed away in his bag. As for the rest of the Robin costume, that was currently tucked away in his bag. He held out a secret hope to find a miracle seamstress who could some how save his costume. It was pointless hope considering how difficult Kevlar was to work with… but it was all that he had left of Gotham, after all.
Since the Rider of Rohan wouldn't be leaving until sunset, Tim allowed himself the opportunity to take a stroll about the village and clear his mind. All about people were busy trying to make repairs to the damage done by the Orcs and trying to regain some sense of normalcy to their lives. It would be long in coming.
Although he felt horrible to think this, Robin felt that on some level these people had gotten off lucky. When one thinks of what COULD have happened…
'Craw'
Robin halted in mid-step and turned to notice a large black bird standing on the remains of a wooden wall staring at him intently. It was almost as if it knew him. He felt his body tense.
'Saruman's Crebain? Here?' he thought to himself. 'No way.' Saruman's bird spies traveled in large groups. This little guy was alone. Besides Saruman had crows as his primary spies, and this was much too large to be a crow. It looked more like raven or something.
"Robin?" Éomer called. Robin continued to gaze at the black bird until he heard his name called a second time. The Horse Marshal appeared from around the corner of the remains of an old farmhouse. He was clad complete in his Rohan armor and leading his chocolate colored horse. "We shall be departing soon. Are you prepared to leave?"
"I suppose," he replied to Éomer, "But there is still the question of what I'm going to ride on. I'm sort of lacking in the animal transportation area meaning I'm either going to need to share a ride or something."
Éomer stared at Robin for a few moments, as he tried to mentally interpret everything the young man has said. "Um… yes," he said finally. "I do not believe that shall not pose a problem. We've been able to locate a young colt that had gone unharmed by the Orcs raiders."
"Alright then," Robin smiled. "It sounds like we're good to go then, huh? Lets get too it."
He began to follow, but paused to look back at where raven had been watching him, but it was gone now. So why did the feeling that he was being watched not left him?
The two walked to the center of the village, where all of Éomer's men awaited their commander. The people of Westfold had also turned out to say farewell to the men who had saved their village. Waiting near the front of the group, was Yolina holding her son Lexington, while her daughter Lillian watched the events in wonder.
As soon as she caught sight of Éomer and Robin, Lillian broke away from her mother's side and ran to them. Éomer smiled as Robin ruffled the child's hair and offered her his hand which she immediately took as they returned back to her mother and brother.
"Are ye certain ye can not stay longer?" Yolina asked.
"If only that we could," Éomer replied, with a disappointed face that seemed to match Yolina's. "But with the Uruk-Hai forces moving across Rohan, we must move quickly if we wish to stop them before they do more damage."
Yolina nodded, pushing back a strained of dark blonde hair from her eyes. She shifted Lexington in her arms a bit as she knelt to pick up two large leather parcels. She gave the first to Éomer and the second to Robin. "I have packed some food for yer journey," she explains. "It is not much, since the Orcs left us with little but I hope…"
"It is more than enough, dear lady. Thank you." Éomer said. He reached out and brushed a bit more of Yolina's hair away from her face. Neither had been willing to speak about it, but anyone could see that the Horse Marshal and Westfold mother were great infatuated with one another but both seemed reluctant to admit their feelings.
Yolina finally smiled at Robin and using her free hand, took his. "I can't thank ye enough for saving my children, Robin. I will be forever in ye debt."
Robin shook his head. "No. Like I keep saying, you don't owe me anything Yolina. I'm just glad that I could help when I could." Robin squeezed her hand a bit, before turning back to the pair of brown eyes looking up at him.
"I hope you find your friends," Lillian said a low voice. Robin knelt down before and smiled.
"Thanks. I hope so too." The small girl threw her arms around Tim giving him a big hug. "You take care now, okay kid?" Lillian nodded, before she returned back to her mother's side.
"Will we ever see ye again?" Yolina asked. Robin didn't' reply, uncertain what his future would hold. Éomer on the other hand blushed slightly.
"I hope that I shall be able to visit once the threat of Mordor has passed."
"Please be safe," Yolina said, before taking her daughters hand and walking to join the rest of the villagers with Lillian waving at Robin and Éomer sadly.
"I do believe that the child is taken with you, Robin," the Horse Marshal jibed.
Robin returned Éomer's playfulness with mock glare. "Oh, like your one to talk."
"I have absolutely no idea what you speak of," Éomer denied lamely.
Robin grinned and shook his head. He had to admit, although he basically knew absolutely nothing about Éomer, he was still a bit surprised that the Horse Marshal had fallen for a mother with two children. It just didn't seem like the normal relationship kind of deal for people in this place.
But then again, Dana Winters, who looked like a freakin' super-model HAD fallen in love and married his father, a man twice her age AND with a teenaged son. So who was he to question the ways of the heart?
One of Éomer's men appeared leading a large copper color horse and offered the reigns to Robin. The beast was very young, but something about him gave off a feeling of immediate trust. In fact, he kind of reminded Tim of Superboy's pet dog from Krypton, Krypto. One could simply look into his eyes and feel good about him.
"Does he have a name?" Robin asked, the soldier.
"I do not know," came the reply. "His owner had been amongst those slain by the Orcs."
Robin turned back to the horse; white lenses eyes meeting big brown ones. "Well, you've kind of got a red color to you… so, why not Redd?" The solder looked a Robin quizzically not to certain about the title he had given the steed. "Hey, if you've got a better name, then lets hear them…"
Éomer was the first to mount his horse, signaling to the other to do the same. The villages called out farewells to the Riders of Rohan and thanks for their help.
"SOLDIERS OF ROHAN!" Éomer called loudly. "WE RIDE!"
Their journey had become rather dull by the time the first day had passed, even if it had been on horseback. The morning March sky had grown increasingly dark and cloudy, and the signs of stormy weather would have been obvious to anyone.
It also didn't help that much of the trip had passed in silence. Many of the soldiers were psyching themselves up for their coming battle with the Orc Army that had been reported the previous day. And those who weren't mentally preparing themselves or discussing battle plans were watching their newest traveling companion with interest.
Robin could tell that many of Éomer's men didn't trust him and certainly didn't like the idea of a child much less a complete stranger who wore a mask, joining their ranks. When Éomer had first introduced him to the company there had been a lot of argument especially from his lieutenants. Like so many others had in the past, they underestimated Robin, saying that a child had no place there and refusing to believe the stories of his past exploits. But Éomer had quickly ended any sort the debate by simply stating that Robin was with them on his request and that was that. Obviously there was very little his men could say to argue with the Third Marshal of Riddermark.
Robin had spoken to Éomer off and on during the first day of their journey, but he was often deep in conversation with his lieutenants about their mission ahead. He knew it wasn't his place to eavesdrop on their discussions of plans and strategies, but years of working with one of the world's greatest tacticians and leading his own team, made it difficult not to.
"…but once we've located the Orcs, what are we to do?" Éomer asked. "According to our scouts they out number us considerably."
"We should attempt a direct strike," said another soldier named Bolan fervently. "Hit them hard and without mercy! We shall make them regret setting foot on our lands! That has done right for is in the past, has it not?"
"Aye, it has," Éomer said. "And they might not expect a direct attack with the current state of Rohan so long as word of our escapades has not traveled far. If they do indeed serve Saruman, that might be a prudent choice."
"But then what do you do?" Robin asked suddenly.
"Excuse me?" asked Bolan.
"Once you've met them in battle, what happens next?"
Bolan stared at Robin as if he had grown a second head. "We destroy them, what else?"
"You destroy an army of hyped-up orcs who outnumber you 5 to 1?" Robin shook his head. "Aren't you being just a tad over-confident?"
"I do not think this is any of—"
"What are you saying, Robin?" Éomer interrupted.
"If we go head first into an onslaught of orcs like what you guys are talking about without thinking about the unknown factors, then all we may end up getting is a broken nose," Robin explained, his voice serious and unwavering in a manner that immediately grabbed people's attention. "What about the lay out of the land? Are there any places that you can box the orcs into, such as a canyon or river? Going the direct attack might be all well and good, but if they just happen to be ready for us for whatever reason, there might be problems all around. You don't want more casualties to your forces for being unprepared."
"And what would you suggest boy?" said another soldier sarcastically.
"When we attack, we do our best to block them in and pick them off," Robin replied. "You don't want to position yourselves in an area where they can easily escape or where they can gain the immediate advantage. If we could put them in-between us and say a river bank, they won't have anywhere to go."
There were several nods and murmurs of agreement, but not everyone agreed with Robin. "That is ludicrous. Have you never heard the phrase 'a wolf will fight more viciously when it is caged'?" one soldier demanded.
"Well, if we did it right, we wouldn't have that problem, now would we?" Robin replied in a patronizing voice. "Look, I'm just saying we should try plan for anything and everything. We won't know what they will do, so it's best to consider it now before it's too late to react."
Another more heavyset soldier turned to Éomer pointedly. "My lord, we have accepted your wishes to bring this child with us, but certainly these matters are best left to men and not boys!"
"Enough!" Éomer snapped. "I shall consider all thoughts on the matter and then we shall make a decision." Several people looked somewhat unhappy that his lord was considering Robin's strategy, but said nothing.
Robin on the other hand nodded. He was glad that at least Éomer was considering his words. The direct approach might work, but not if you weren't certain of victory. He knew that Éomer's company had started out larger than this, and they couldn't risk massive loses every time they fought.
As they continued onward, Robin's mind kept going back to Cassandra and the others. The incident at Westfold had sent his search for them back considerably and even if they had gone the way that Éomer had said, they'd be long gone by now. He was back at square one.
Anyone else might have already called it quits. Saying that finding Batgirl and the fellowship would be like finding a needle in the haystack. And they might have been right. But Robin had a force driving him.
The kiss that he and Cassandra shared in Lothlórien was constantly replaying in his mind. The memory of her lips pressed against his, and her arms around his neck. It was far too powerful to let him give up.
He cared for Cassandra deeply. More deeply than he would have ever thought possible before. And it wasn't just some crush or puppy love, like he had shared with Steph and Ariana. It had felt as if something that had been missing in his heart had been returned. He had feltcontent. He had felt… whole.
'I will find you Cass. Somehow. I promise."
It was about daybreak, Éomer called the company to a halt allowing them time to eat 'breakfast' and replenish the strength of both the soldiers and their horses. Assortments of small fires were prepared for men to warm themselves and for meals to be made.
After Robin had seen to Redd's needs, he made his way over to where a handful of soldiers were sitting around trying futile to start their own campfire. He recognized one of the younger soldiers as Alistair, who he had met during the beginning of their trip. He and his friends looked not very much older than Tim himself, maybe 18 or 19 years old.
"You aren't doing that correctly," one of them moaned.
"Shut yer mouth, Merion," grunted the Alistair who held the kindle box.
"You let the kindle get wet, Alistair!" said a third. "AGAIN!"
"Give it here," demanded the fourth. "I'll show you how it's done."
"If only I could find my own kindle box…" Merion sighed.
Robin gave an amused grin. While the four Rohan soldiers argued about the proper use of kindling, he reached into his belt and pulled out a clear green plastic cigarette lighter. He of course didn't smoke, bit it was smart to carry around a lighter just in case. With a quick flick of the thumb, the campfire blazed to life.
"Oy!" Alistair yelped, leaping back from the fire in surprise. "How you do that?"
"20th century engineering," Robin smiled, as he warmed his hands by the fire. "Gentlemen, I give to you, the cigarette lighter." He tossed the lighter to Merion who stared at it in confusion.
"How do you work it," the forth solder, who's name was Drago.
"Flick the switch with your thumb and it ignites the fluid inside the casing."
Merion did so, and his face broke into a smile at the small flame erupted from the lighter. "Brilliant…" he murmured with the others nodding in agreement.
"Would you care to eat with us, Master Robin?" Alistair asked, as he pulled out some dried fruit from his bag. Apparently the sight of a 'magical' source of fire had erased any of the mistrust that these younger soldiers had held for the masked boy.
"Sure thanks," Tim replied.
"So is it true what they say?" Merion asked suddenly.
"Is… what true?"
"That you have met the elf witch of Lórien?"
Robin shook his head. "Well for starters, she isn't a witch, she's an elf queen and sec" But before he could finish Robin was cut off by someone crying out in the distance.
"Lord Éomer!"
The entire company turned to see a middle-aged soldier in Rohan Armor riding towards them. Éomer stood up from his campfire and raised his hand to signal the scout over to him.
"What have you to report?" Éomer asked, once the scout had ridden within proper speaking distance.
"The Orc Forces that we are pursuing are less than eleven leagues north from here, my lord," replied the soldier though deep breaths. Éomer's face-hardened as his head turned back to the rest of the company.
"Our quarry is in sight!" he shouted back. "Pack up and turn out your fires with haste! We must move in quickly and attack forcefully! We shall make those monsters regret entering Rohan, just as we had at Fangorn and in Westfold! Is that clear?"
There was a unified 'AYE' from the men, and they all quickly grabbed their gear, extinguished their fires and mounted their horses.
Robin hadn't been as anxious as the others seemed to be though. He understood that in Éomer's mind the direct approach was best, but he still wasn't thrilled with the idea of tracking down the bloodthirsty, highly animalistic Uruk-Hai of Sauron head on and without a contingency plan. They were in an opened area and that gave the Orcs equal ground to fight. But like Batman said, 'you can't wait for the criminals to come to you. It is often best that you go out of your way to find the criminals yourself.'
Besides, there was nearly two thousand or so riding in Éomer's company.
What's the worse that could happen?
"COVER THE LEFT FLANKS!" Éomer commanded, brandishing his sword, which was covered in black Orc blood. A large force Orcs began charging towards the circle of Rohan soldiers, screaming what could only be guess as Orc profanities at them.
Robin with sword in hand move in position along with several soldiers all of them mounted on their horses. The onslaught of goblin creatures flew at them, and they did their best to follow the Horse Marshal's orders, but it was proving far more difficult. The sudden thunderstorm and down pour that had rolled upon them was causing many distractions for both the Rohan Riders and the Uruk-hai. Rain made visibility near impossible and the claps of thunder didn't help either, blocking out voices and commands.
Later on, after the fight had ended, Robin would realize that the events taking place at this very moment had been the same he had witnessed in Galadriel's Mirror. But for the moment, other things had held the Boy Wonder's attention.
It had roughly late afternoon when Robin and the Riders had finally met the Orc forces that Éomer's scouts had discovered. Just like the scouts had reported the larger and ugly brutes were large in number and they appeared to be moving in an eastern direction on foot. The reasoning behind their movements was still unknown, but that wasn't the concern at the present time. Letting out loud battle cries and speeding their horsed forward as fast as possible, Éomer's forces had ridden in and intercepted the Orcs drawing them into a full out battle that would have made the fight scenes Mel Gibson's movie Braveheart look tame.
'At least no one is flashing their butts for all of us to see,' Robin grimaced at the frightening prospect of seeing an Orc's pimply black ass waving around in the rain.
His thoughts were interrupted when turned in time to catch site of a rather large Orc reach out and grab him by the collar and wretch him right out of his saddle. Tim instantly fell to the ground with a horribly painful THUD only to have his Orc aggressor lift in up the ground by his cape until they were met face to face. The rancid breath of the Orc hit Robin like a city bus, nearly causing him to throw up.
"Jeeze, it's called a tic-tack. Not expensive," he managed to say, even though his cape was chocking him. From the look on the Orc's face, he didn't understand the reference, but it had distracted him long enough for Robin to draw his elf knife from his boot and stab the Orc into letting him go. He fell to the ground chocking loudly as he tried to regain his composure. What was it with Orcs trying to strangle him all the time? After quickly locating where his elf sword back from where it had fallen he spun around in time to face another group of would-be attackers.
Robin's eyes scanned around, trying to find out where his own horse Redd had run off. Not that he had much time to look, since more Orcs had broken through the Rohan defense and were charging towards Robin.
"Big and dumb," he growled. "Just how I like 'em."
Robin ducked the swing of one Orc's long and crudely made sword in time to drive his own sword through the muscle in its triceps. Robin then barrel rolled another attack a second later.
Spinning around on his heals Robin had been able cut down the Orc in one swift movement. Once again Robin felt his stomach clench in disgust at the sound of metal cutting flesh.
Robin brought up his sword to block another attack, and took him out with a front snap kick to the groin. He back handed the now high pitch voiced goblin, and spun around with a hook kick to the face.
Although the Boy Wonder was holding his own against the Orcs, this was taking too far too long.
"ARGH!" howled a voice, and Robin spun around to find a small and rather pathetic looking green skinned Orc getting trampled by a very unhappy looking copper color horse. Judging from the knife in the in little freak's hand, it had attempted to stab Robin from behind, had Redd not decided to interfere.
"I owe you one," Robin smiled, as he patted the horse on the mane. Red snorted in a manner that seemed to agree with the statement, as Robin mounted his saddle again.
Taking a look about the battlefield, the Boy Wonder didn't like was he was seeing. Éomer's forces were doing their best to keep going strong, but the Orcs were doing just as good of a job if not better.
One problem Robin could see was their forces were fighting too close together while riding on horses. This was both a plus and negative in tactics. A plus since it kept them out of the reach of the Orcs, but a negative as it made fighting difficult at times and greatly inhibited their movements. And the Orc had begun to catch on to their tactics and start moving lower to the ground and staying out of the attack reach of their weapons.
Scanning the crowds, Robin tried to locate some sign of Éomer and his lieutenants. Bolan, who had been Éomer's second-in-command had been killed within the first ten minutes of the fight and Éomer's other officers were spread our sporadically amongst the battlefield.
They were getting slaughtered one by one from lack of direction and Robin wasn't seeing many candidates for the job of taking command in the general area. Seeing no other option left, Robin sped his horse towards an opened area of the field and raised his sword high into the air as he cried in his loudest commanding voice: "Riders Together! Regroup! Regroup!" The men were too engaged in their fights to question the strange voice followed his call. They immediately broke away from their immediate opponents grouped together in the area Robin had positioned himself at. Once he had their attention and could see that they were actually listening to him, Robin started shouting out commands. "You lot, form a wall; I want the archers to the rear! Left flank, stop those Orcs from breaking through! Wounded get to safety!"
The archers stood ready with their bows, looking around expectantly for their next command. As they did so, a large line of orcs began charging towards them. Robin's eyes narrowed. They were making this too easy. "Archers ready and aim high!" he shouted while pointing in the direction he wanted. The men loaded their arrows to their bows and took aim without question. "On my mark! Fire!"
A couple dozen arrows were released and hissed up through the air, at first looking like they were going to drop down on their own heads. But when the at last began to drop, the arrows fell upon the attacking line of orcs and either killed their targets or at the very least forcing them back. "Good! Again!"
This would by them some time, but Robin was well aware that it would do little in the long run. They were in deep trouble only a miracle would save them now.
"Robin!" Éomer called, riding his horse through battling orcs and soldiers. His armor was splashed with blood and the bridge of his nose had been cut at one point. Behind Éomer road a handful of other soldiers each looking equally worse for wear.
"Where have you been!" Robin demanded.
"A handful of us were separated on the far end of the field," Éomer replied through gasps of breath and pulling his horse around. "Where is Bolan?"
"Dead," Robin replied.
"Then who-?"
"That isn't important, Éomer," Robin interrupted. "What is important is our current situation! We can't keep fighting at this pace! We're getting over run!"
"Aye," Éomer nodded. "I know. We must!" Yet before he could finish, the night sky was interrupted by a deafening crack of thunder, followed by a bolt of lightning striking down. A large group of Orcs cried out in agonizing pain as the lighting struck down, causing them to go flying.
"What in the name of existence was that?" Éomer asked allowed.
Robin's attention wasn't on the rather well placed lighting bolt but rather the scared shitless Orc army. "Éomer, I think we just got our edge back!" Robin shouted.
The Horse Marshal spun around to see the Orcs racing around without rhyme or reason, fear full of another strike down from nature. Whatever tactics and control the Orc army once had, was no long gone? Éomer's face broke into a devilish grin.
"RIDERS OF ROHAN!" he commanded. "ATTACK NOW!"
Battle cries broke out from all men assembled as they leapt forth into battle with renewed vigor. The Orcs couldn't regain themselves in time and soon were being cut down left and right by the men of Rohan. Everyone now and against it seemed as if nature would aid the Rohan forces as more lightning and at times gusts of powerful wind would strike down more foul creature of Mordor.
Soon the battle began to slow down, and all about were the slaughtered bodies of Orcs. A number of Éomer's men had fallen in battle including several of his lieutenants, but they had won the fight.
"SARUON HAS ONCE AGAIN LEARNED THAT THE MEN OF ROHAN ARE NOT TO BE TRIFLED WITH!" Éomer cheered, raising his sword into the air.
"WE SHALL NEVER FALL AS LONG AS THERE IS BREATH IN OUR BODIES AND HOPE IN OUR HEARTS!"
"EOMER! EOMER!" Many soldiers began to cheer loudly.
"You really know how to work a crowd," Robin smiled.
Other mourned their fallen comrades. But after a few moments, both Éomer and Robin could hear something neither was expecting.
"It cannot be!" shouted one soldier.
"Impossible!" said another.
"How did he…?"
"My word…"
Éomer swapped a confused look with Robin. That certainly wasn't normal battle conversation. The two quickly fought their way through the crowd of soldiers until they could see what had the surprised attention of everyone else. Éomer let out shocked gasp of air, while Robin froze in mid-step.
"Oh my god…" Robin gasped. "It… It can't be…"
TO BE CONTINUED…