When the three friends found Gandalf he was deep in discussion with Theoden, Aragorn and Eomer. The first words they overheard were a response to a comment by Theoden. "Unlooked for? Did I not say to look for me at Helm's Deep?"

Aragorn gazed on him in wonder. "Perhaps when death is staring one in the face, it becomes difficult to wait patiently for those who have not given a time for their arrival. But tell me, what wizardry do you possess that you can cause trees to sprout full grown in the space of a single night?"

Gandalf cast a knowing glance over his shoulder at the forest which stood now silent. "That, sir, is none of my doing. There are powers at work here far more ancient and far more powerful than anything I could hope to match. The only wizardry performed here was by Shadowfax, whose feet are the fleetest on Middle-Earth. If not for his speed and endurance, never would I have been able to reach Erkenbrand and bring his army to this place in a timely fashion."

Legolas then broke into the conversation, standing tall and proud, with Nimoë held tightly against him. "What, then, must we do next? Do we ride to the aid of Gondor?"

"Nay, Legolas. I for one will ride to Isengard. Saruman has much to answer for, and I have the feeling that his circumstances are changing rapidly."

Aragorn spoke, "I am sure I speak for us all when I say that we will ride with you."

"Theoden?" asked Gandalf.

"Too many times have I scoffed at your counsel, Gandalf. This time I believe I have learned my lesson. I too would like to have words with Saruman." Theoden had shards of steel in his voice, which spoke to his intent for the rogue wizard.

#

Nimoë found that she could no longer listen to the making of plans, and her eyes traveled over the gory scene of the battlefield. She lifted her lips to Legolas' ear and whispered. "I am going to see if there are any injured who need my aid."

He squeezed her fingers in acknowledgement, and she moved away from his side. Almost all of the bodies littering the ground were orcs and the wild men of Saruman, but there were, scattered among them, men of Rohan. The surge of adrenaline which had overwhelmed her in the heat of battle, and later in the joy of finding herself saved from near certain death, was quickly leaving her system and her head swam. Grimly she pushed past the sensations of vertigo which threatened to overwhelm her, and began to survey the dead, hoping to find some still alive.

Nimoë stopped moving when she came upon the body of a tall man with golden hair. His face was covered by his cloak, and she bent down to pull the soiled material away, hoping to see that he was still breathing. What she saw caused the blood to rush away from her head and into her extremities. Her hands and feet tingled and darkness began to press in around her.

"No," the whisper was torn from her body, followed by an involuntary scream. "No!"

#

The six leaders of men, who stood in council, were brought up short by Nimoë's agonized scream. They spun to see what was amiss in time to see her straighten up abruptly over a corpse, then bring her hand to her head and topple backwards. Eomer, who was closest to her, sprang forward and was able to cushion her fall. On his knees he cradled her unconscious form, and Legolas leapt over the fallen to reach her side. The Elf took her hand in his, and stroked her cheek with the other hand. "Nimoë, wake up. Come back to us."

Both men felt relief sweep over them as her grey eyes fluttered open. "Nimoë, what happened?" asked Eomer.

She raised her hand, and it trembled as she pointed to the corpse which lay nearby. "Hama," she whispered.

Legolas rose and went towards the body. It was indeed Hama, loyal servant of Theoden and true friend of them all. His neck was half severed and his head lay at a grotesque angle. With deep reverence, Legolas reached down and gently moved Hama's lifeless head so that it lay in a more dignified position. Great remorse coursed through him as he passed his hand over the serving man's eyelids, shutting away their glassy stare from the harsh light of day.

Theoden, Gandalf, Gimli and Aragorn had stepped close behind him, and Gandalf swept off his peaked cap, while the others bowed their heads to honor the passing of so true and brave a man. Nimoë sobbed brokenly, burrowed into Eomer's reassuring arms, although he sought as much comfort as he offered. Hama had been a faithful friend and he would miss him terribly.

Theoden broke the silence, calling out to those nearby. "We must work quickly. Dig graves befitting the heroism of those who lie here slain and bury them with all honor. Pile the bodies of the enemy together. I fear we shall have to leave them, for we cannot burn the bodies. There is no wood, and I will not have one man raise an axe against the trees which stand here sentinel. Once that work is done you must ride to Edoras, to make ready to ride to the aid of Gondor.

"I will ride with Eomer, and one score other men, to Isengard. For now, those who will travel with me must take rest. We have not much time, but I deem that rest is more important than haste. We will return to the Hornburg to refresh ourselves, then ride forth to our fates."

Quietly the men surrounding the fallen Hama backed away, giving him their silent blessings. Legolas went to Arod and led him by the reins to where Eomer sat still upon the ground with his arms wrapped tightly around Nimoë, allowing her tears to wash away some small portion of his own grief. "Will you hand her up to me?" Legolas asked quietly.

Eomer nodded, although in his heart he regretted losing the feel of the gentle Elf maiden pressed close against him. Legolas mounted up onto the horse's wide back and Eomer rose, lifting Nimoë in his arms. He handed her up into Legolas' waiting embrace, then turned away, unwilling to watch them together. It was still too newly painful.

As Arod stepped softly away, picking his way with caution through the bodies of the dead, Eomer made his way to the side of Hama. He fell to his knees beside his friend, and took his cold hand within the grasp of his own fingers, so full of pulsing energy and life. Eomer's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and his jaw twitched with the strain of holding his grief in check. "Hama, my faithful servant and my steadfast friend, know this now. Your death will be avenged. I will see to it that Saruman pays for the carnage he has wrought here upon the people of Rohan. I will wring the price of his treachery from his screaming body before I give him the mercy of death." A tear then fell from his eye and he dashed it away angrily, unwilling to show weakness, and he spoke in a tight, choked whisper, "You will be avenged!"

Gently he placed Hama's hands crossed upon his breast, and set his sword within his grasp. No longer able to contain his rage, Eomer leapt up and found his horse standing nearby. He vaulted onto its back and kicked it into a full out run, hoping to banish the terrible crushing emptiness which crashed down upon him like boulders in an avalanche, but knowing all the while that some of his pain would never be removed. Hama would be avenged, but he could never have Nimoë. All that he could do was to allow her to love and be loved, and never let her know of his own mangled heart, lying in ruins at her feet.