Chapter 6: The Rohirrim
By now we were getting very good at traveling in Middle Earth. Breaking down and setting up camp, hunting, finding wild roots and berries to add to the pot, even getting along without toilet paper. It was routine to stop at whatever stream we needed to cross and either refill or top up the water barrels, occasionally even catch a few fish with improvised fishing rods. Everyone knew what they needed to do and completed those tasks.
There's a delicate balance when people settle into a routine; one break and everything is thrown into chaos. In this case that was getting to the Mering Stream and finding a small squad of cavalry at the border.
My stomach clenched and I kept my mouth tightly shut as they approached.
"Stop and tell us your purpose in Rohan!" called a middle aged man in very nice armor with gilded designs. His eyes were bright blue and keen as they eyed us all.
At the seat of the lead wagon, Libby answered, "We're passing through on the way to Eriador."
Those eyes scanned each of us in turn, lingering on Madhav and Pitaajee, then stopped for a long moment on Anahera.
She simply huffed and raised her chin proudly.
He looked at the twins then, only to simply stop on Andy. Just… stopped right there, like he was mesmerized.
My eyebrows jumped up my forehead and I exchanged looks of concerned surprise with Mackey.
"All travelers must have the blessing of the king to travel through Rohan in these dangerous times," the head guardsman declared almost entirely to Andy, "We will escort you to the city." He only gave a cursory glance to the rest of us before turning his horse around.
Seeing the suspicious, almost disturbed look on Andy's face, I figured her twin should handle this one. I dropped back to ride beside Electra.
"We're getting a full escort this time?" she asked, and whistled, impressed, at the sight of these horseback soldiers. At least a dozen men had surrounded us in a protective formation.
Watching them that day left me with no doubt that these were expert horsemen. It was less that they rode the horse than that they were partners and knew it, seemingly reading each other's minds. An ease in the saddle that my sore bum could only dream of.
That was, when I wasn't keeping an eye on Andy and this stranger. A very proper distance was kept between them but his attention never seemed to waver from her, and she was… wary. Chuckling but nervously and always kept Mackey beside her.
"Who's the man talking to the twins?" I asked the rider currently beside me.
He didn't even need to glance ahead. "That is Theodred, the 2nd Marshal of the Mark," he answered simply.
"Sorry but what exactly does that mean?" I insisted.
The rider, who I found out was called Stithulf, didn't seem to mind explaining things that seemed common to him. He would give me amused looks like he thought I was playing dumb but always answered without a stupid patronizing tone. Bless him.
In return he asked about where we came from and why we were heading to Eriador. Regular chatter between strangers traveling together. It was more than a little awkward though, because how do I even explain what's happened to us? "It's… very, very complicated," I told him, "I don't understand half of it."
His smile was mischievous. "It is a week to Edoras at wagon speed. We will have plenty of time in the coming days for complications," he said with twinkling eyes.
"Right," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.
There wasn't much about our world that translated to here, as it turned out. How does one describe the sea to a man who has never seen it, or even pictures of it? Modern weapons and women in the military alike puzzled Stithulf. "There are shield maidens of Rohan, but they only fight in the battles to save their homes and never more," he told me the following day while we traveled.
"If a woman wanted to join the military, would she be allowed?" I asked.
"Of course not," Stithulf answered immediately, looking at me like I had suggested that men could walk on the moon. Like I was crazy for suggesting it.
"Oh. Fantastic," I bit out acerbically.
Again, Stithulf gave me a questioning look. "Women are in your military?" he asked.
"The twins, Electra, Aunt Libby, Anahera, and I all are." I paused. "Were," I corrected.
For some strange reason Stithulf shook his head in a way that looked almost pitying. "What kind of a world must you come from, when warriors are needed in such numbers?" he asked hypothetically.
Or at least I hoped it was metaphorical. Treated it that way. "We had other choices," I assured him, "It was a family tradition for everybody to enter the service that can, and it didn't need any expensive schooling, so it simply made the most sense for us."
Keenly, Stithulf asked, "And your other sisters and brother?" It felt so nice to not have people gape at me when I say I have seven siblings.
"Cressie and Dezzie are unfit for service, they've got things going on up here." I tapped the side of my head. "Liam wasn't old enough but I know he was planning on it." Oh, the days of listening to him agonize over which of the services to go into…
"Ah. Now what did you all do in your military?" Now that Stithulf had heard of such a thing as a woman as a career soldier, he sounded utterly fascinated. I managed to get through several of my favorite female soldiers (Lakshmi Bai, Joan of Arc, Lyudmila Pavlochenko) before we made camp and had actual duties to attend to.
At the same time I kept an eye on Andy and her apparent… suitor? Theodred certainly looked interested in that idea, always somewhere close by if not keeping her attention with conversation. Not a single damn thing I could tear his arms off for.
"He's not already married, is he?" I eventually asked Stithulf in a grumble.
"No, he is unmarried," was the answer, which I was both grateful for and wary of. It was far too personal to ask why and I could only hope that it wasn't because he was a womanizer.
The same questions were being asked by the twins, as it happened. We were huddled in one of the wagons for a gossip session when Andy burst out, "Why is he interested in me?"
I squinted at her darkened figure, only backlit by the campfire outside. "What do you mean, why is he interested? He's lucky to be able to be interested in you," I told her.
"But I mean, look at him! He's fucking hot, man, and somebody important, and look at us," Andy said desperately, gesturing wildly.
Only a few quick dodges kept Mackey from getting accidentally hit in the face. "Well yeah, look at us. We're also hot," she pointed out.
Objectively, I would say that they were good-looking. Their flame-red hair alone attracts admiring attention everywhere and it's not like they had toad faces, plus they can throw a man out a window. "If Stithulf is to be believed, Theodred really is interested," I offered.
"Stithulf, huh?" Andy teased.
I let her use me as a distraction, smiling at Mackey's waggled eyebrows." He's cool, we're buddies now," I said with a shrug, "Still trying to figure out how to explain a submarine to someone who believes the sea is a myth."
The twins struggled to stifle their laughter.
"Theodred doesn't seem to know what to think about battleships," Andy giggled, "You should've seen his face when I was describing the fourteen inch guns- poor dear thought the guns themselves were fourteen inches, after I explained inches, but when I corrected him- oh that was glorious." It had been a shocking lesson for me too, when I first learned that the guns were named as such because the shells are fourteen inches across.
Out of nowhere I blurted out, "Please don't tell me you told him about nukes." Those were the entire reason her expected wartime lifespan was thirteen seconds- she was trained to fire any aboard a surface ship. Everything scares the hell out of me, but that more than most.
"Dude, it's so nice to not have to worry about that anymore," Andy confessed, slumping down against a grain sack.
"Yeah, it is," Mackey agreed pointedly.
Andy grinned sardonically, sinister in the flickering half light. "Wanna tell Cass about how you described being a pararescue?" she invited her twin.
Teasingly I made a face of exaggerated surprise. To add to it, I gasped and put a hand in front of my mouth. "Tell me more," I purred.
"Just explaining helicopters was bad enough, but parachuting? They all think I'm nuts!" Mackey groaned.
All I could do was shrug. "Don't worry, slight insanity is a job requirement for all of us," I told her sympathetically.
Was it a sign of the absolute madness of our family that we've been able to adapt so well? I knew without a doubt that many emotional breakdowns would come after we get to Tharbad or wherever we end up settling, it was just bottled up and building during hard travel. Mother's suicide hadn't exactly helped but her absence certainly did.
Or maybe our survival so far is a sign that we're more functional than I ever thought? Crisis always brings out the best and the worst in people, often at the same time.
It was moot, I decided when I was bedding down under one of the wagons. Absently I stroked Gander's fluffy fur and hoped that the ruffling of it helped him cool. Even going north the summer was hot; he and the corgis were definitely suffering.
A weird croak echoed and I frowned, freezing. That didn't sound like any natural sound I was aware of.
Gander whined and tried tucking himself under my arm.
"Orcs!" The voice was unfamiliar but the word immediately made my adrenaline surge.
Immediately I rolled out from under the wagon and dove for my weapons- except that my halberd was missing. Grimacing, I grabbed the war hammer and vaulted the protective ring of wagons to confront the oncoming enemy.
Shouts rose and that horrible croak was back, only now it was sort of a screech as a hoard of monsters surged from the darkness of the night. They were just like the ones we faced in Osgiliath, only smaller and sort of ragged, bandits rather than an army. Perfectly acceptable.
The Rohirrim had no chance to get on their horses and were forced to fight on foot, but despite their main advantage being taken away they were fierce. War cries echoed as the sides clashed.
Silently I thanked the professors back in New Mexico; without their training I wouldn't have stood a chance with medieval weapons. This wasn't exactly a scenario the Marines envisioned.
Apparently taking me for an easy target for my lack of height, one orc didn't put up any guard when it rushed me. It was dispatched with one good hit of my hammer to its chest.
An arrow to the eye took out my next opponent; with my free hand I flipped off whoever did it and ran for an orc which looked like it was trying to sneak around the main battle. Not on my watch asshole, I thought viciously. The battle covered the noise of my steps and it had barely managed to peek into one of the wagons, startling Pitaajee, when I smashed its skull.
"Sorry for that," I told my shaken step-father, smiling, "Stay down, eh?" With a wink at him I dove back into the fight.
It was utter chaos, everyone fighting everywhere and taking out whatever orcs got too close to the civilians in the wagons. Even Speckles and Freckles did their bit, running down orcs at thigh height for the humans while adding to the confusion with their booming barks. Everyone stayed a bit clear of the twins, Mackey with my fucking halberd and Andy swinging a morningstar like a fucking weapon of mass destruction. Theodred barked orders in a language I didn't understand. The orcs shrieked and seemingly without any plan besides destruction threw themselves at us.
At a gap in the wagons Matt, Madhav, and Aunt Libby had formed a tiny shield-wall and over their heads Anahera and Liam aimed their bows at whatever targets they could find. They alone were turning the area into a charnel house; Stevie and Electra were almost superfluous at their sides.
Between all of us and the Rohirrim, the wave of enemies was put down brutally. The last awful, inhuman scream died out when I swung my hammer into its skull after I missed the first time and broke its shoulder instead.
Not caring about the reeking black blood, I wiped my forehead with the back of my free hand. My right arm was like jelly and I'd had to switch my hammer to the left, which was similarly tired but I couldn't drop my weapon yet.
First I had to retrieve my halberd from Mackey.
Loping lazily on over, I tucked my hammer into a belt harness I had jury rigged and then held out my hand in a silent demand.
It was handed back with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I fumbled my knives and just grabbed the closest thing," she said, "I tried cleaning it up but…" She could only shrug about our limited supply of water and clean cloth.
This time during our medical check there were several injuries. Stevie got a nice deep cut on his sword arm which Mackey took care of, and Stithulf barely allowed me to examine the arrow clearly sticking out of his right shoulder.
"You're sure you know what you're doing?" he asked warily, watching me prepare my tools.
"Mhm. This is pretty easy, all things considered," I told him comfortingly as I washed my hands, "I just need to push that arrow the rest of the way through, break off the head, and then take the shaft of the arrow out of you and sew you up. You'll be fine as long as you keep it clean." I nodded to Electra, who had been pouring the water over my hands, and she sat down behind Stithulf.
Uncomfortably he shifted.
"Don't worry, she's just going to make sure you don't struggle," I assured him as I put the needle in the fire to sterilize it, "I know it's instinct but it'll only hurt you more."
"That isn't my worry," he muttered, obviously not meaning for me to hear it.
Knowing that his worry was how inappropriate this was going to be, I ignored him. "Shirt off!" I trilled upon realizing it was still on.
Alright, so he didn't have a bad upper body at all, besides that arrow wound. Even Electra waggled her eyebrows playfully where she prepared to wrap around him like barrel rings.
That being said, I'm used to having very well built men running around shirtless. Briefly my thoughts went to Murphy, Martin, and York, wondering how they were doing. If they heard about my disappearance yet and thought about it.
Smiling to myself, I shook my head and threaded the needle expertly. It's a damn good thing I'm used to doing field surgery with little in the way of supplies. "Electra," I called when I put the needle down.
She not only hugged him from behind with her arms around his, but wrapped her legs around him for more security and crossed her ankles for a better hold. "Ready when you are," she reported.
For the first time there was actual fear in Stithulf's eyes when I approached. If he wasn't being held in place, I for the idea that he would have backed away.
"You'll be fine," I assured him once again.
Briefly he relaxed. Then I put my hand on the arrow sticking out of him and he froze again.
"On three," I lied and watched him brace himself. "One, two-" On two I drove the arrow straight through him until the fletching almost met his skin.
He let out an almighty shout but between the surprise and Electra holding him down, he didn't get a chance to jerk and damage himself. Carefully I snapped the fletching off and slid the arrow the rest of the way through, grimacing at the barbs on the head before I discarded it. "Alright, you're fine," I barked at him and began to sew up the puncture.
"You lied," he gritted out, glaring sullenly.
"Yep." The sewing bit was over relatively quickly and now that the worst was over, I told Electra, "You look like hell. You should clean up and check on Aaron."
That was hastily agreed on. While our grandparents would die rather than let anything happen to Aaron, a mother will always worry.
"Take it easy for a couple weeks and wait for this to get a strong scab before you start doing any real exercise like fighting any more orcs," I instructed my grumpy patient as I finished up by sewing his back, "If you tear it open, the chance of infection is sky high and that's the last thing we want." Without antibiotics, it was my worst fear.
"Did you learn this in your military?" Stithulf eventually asked.
I gently tapped the top of his shoulder to let him know that I was finished. "It's my first time taking an arrow out, but I've dealt with nastier things than this when I was on patrol," I confirmed. My ears briefly rang again and I winced at the high volume my own brain was inflicting on me. Fucking sadist.
"Thank you for your assistance. I suppose I should report to Theodred," Stithulf said, only to jump when Freckles approached.
Her dark eyes gleamed in the fire light but she sat docily.
That reminded me- "Why does everyone seem to be afraid of Freckles and Speckles?" I asked as I cleaned up my work area.
"We have a belief in Rohan of an unnaturally large black dog that heralds death," Stithulf explained, still watching the large blackdog even as she scratched herself.
"If either of them was the Grim, I'm pretty sure Aunt Libby would've died a very long time ago," I told him with some amusement, remembering the Harry Potter books. (I will forever believe that Dumbles is Death and Sirius really was the Grim, new planet or not.)
"They were very useful tonight," Stithulf said, a cautious acceptance of the hounds, "As were you."
That was the most flattering thing he could have said, honestly. I grinned. "Thanks," I said, hoping that the word conveyed the depth to which I felt it, and left to put the medical supplies back.
There was no debate about switching campsites; this attack had already proved the danger. Plus the corpses would start to stink everything up before long. We all got rolling again in the middle of the night, the way lit by the full moon.
It only lasted a few hours before a halt was called again; we were all too tired to continue for long and the horses needed rest also. A brief rest ensued, just a few hours of sleep in or under wagons while a few unlucky souls got guard duty, before we continued in the full daylight.
There were no further attacks but we still drove the horses a little faster, not truly hasty but everyone wanted to get to Edoras and some measure of safety. Vaguely I was reminded of our journey through the forest in South Ithilien. Hopefully this town wouldn't be an embattled ruin like Osgiliath.
Threats and pleas of varying seriousness were conveyed the whole way up and down the line as I circled, and at least to the people I knew could take it I made very rude hand gestures. Here's hoping I don't get us thrown out of another city, yeah?
When I eventually had to tell the story to Stithulf, he howled with laughter. "You told that to Lord Denethor of Gondor?" he questioned gleefully.
Grumpily I scowled and crossed my arms. They were still sore from my hammer and I had to relax them again far too quickly. "I didn't think he could really read minds," I muttered.
"Not much is impossible for a man such as he," Stithulf had to acknowledge, just coming down from his fit of laughter, but an occasional giggle escaped.
"Is your man in charge as rude as Denethor? Cause I might have to sit this one out if he is," I admitted.
"Theoden King is a just and fair man, well spoken and courteous to those who show him respect. So long as you do not offend him first, then you should have little to worry about," Stithulf said, quite the reassurance.
I hoped he was right.