Chapter Two: the call of the Eorlingas.
Thanks to my first reviewer, here's chapter two. If you do read, please just take a second to review, it does mean the world to me. Thank you and Merry Christmas and have a great new year!!!!
A company mounted on horses approached the West-farthing gate of the Shire. The leader swung herself off her horse and threw the reins over her mount's neck. She took a second to soothe her mount, before walking to the gate and ringing the bell mounted on the post. She then swung herself back up into the saddle and remounted with ease. The door of the gatehouse opened and a hobbit walked out slowly, carrying a lantern high.
"Hello?" his voice rang loud in the silence. A young man, barely twenty-five rode forwards, putting his horse before the Lady's and drew a deep breath to announce their mission.
"We are come from Gondor, sent by The King Elessar the Elfstone from the city of Minas Tirith, to seek his companions from years past and recall their services to his land."
"Aye?" said the hobbit cautiously, "and who are you trying to find Masters?" The Lady steered her mount around the man's, to step a couple of paces forwards, until the shoulders of her steed were equal to those of the announcer's.
" We seek Mayor Samwise of Hobbiton, Thain Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, Master of Buckland." The hobbit's face relaxed somewhat. He knew these names, and the fact that they were friends of the King of the Big People. His formal tone lapsed into the easy, soft accent of the Shire.
"And who might you be missie?"
The messenger pushed forwards once more,
"We ride with the Lady Atùvinel, Lady of the Dûnedain, Princess of the realm of Gondor and the North and daughter of King Aragorn and Queen Arwen Evenstar." The hobbit bowed deeply and spoke regretfully,
"My Lady. I wish I could do as you ask, but Laws forbid any man setting foot in the Shire."
"This is a special case…" The man broke in. "We have the King's leave."
"No." Atùvinel spoke, "We must still follow the laws of the Land. May I cross the borders of your land Master Holbytla? For I am no man. See, I leave my Sword and weapons my men, save my bow which I shall keep for my safety against any wild animals." As the hobbit slowly began to nod, she unbuckled her sword belt and handed it, and her dagger to another man, who wrapped it tightly in a cloth. The leader of the men protested,
"Lady…"
"Bergil. I shall be fine. I can shoot well, as you know and it is not far between here and Buckland." Bergil answered reluctantly,
"Very well. But take great care."
"I will." She promised. "Then Watchman, may I pass?"
"Yes, my Lady. If you ride hard to the east, you shall reach Buckland just after dusk falls."
The gates man began to move to open the gate.
"Do not trouble yourself sir, Nafalon can easily clear the gate." Her mount took two great strides back then leaped cleanly over the gate bar. Atùvinel turned in the saddle.
"We shall meet again in the late morn." She called. She stayed only for a nod of agreement from Bergil. Then she and Nafalon sped along the road, her cloak spreading wide behind her.
She rode long throughout the day but Nafalon needed no urging, it seemed as if he sensed his rider's need for urgency and speed. He was foaled of Shadowfax the great, steed of Gandalf Greyhaeme and Asfalof of Rivendell. So, he bore in his veins the blood of the Prince of the horses of Rohan and the Elf steed of Glorfindel.
She drew near to the edges of Buckland as dusk began to fall. She rode more gently into a square in the centre of the town. She had never been in the Shire before, but had memorised maps of the area whilst riding. When, looking around she could see no hobbit to ask the whereabouts of Merry or Pippin's houses from, reluctantly Atùvinel drew her horn from the folds of her cloak. It was beautiful, skilfully made of silver and ivory, it was engraved with many runes, both of Dwarf make and Elf. Atùvinel raised the horn to her lips and sent out into the night the call of the riders of Rohan.
'Forth Eorlingas! Forth the sons of Eorl! Come to the great golden hall of your fathers!'
She pulled the horn away from her lips and breathed in the crisp night air deeply before sending out the signal again. This time an answering call came from the North. She let the horn fall loose at her side, the silver chain crossing her chest, glinting bright in the moonlight. Leading Nafalon, Atùvinel headed in the direction of the answering horn call. She drew near to the outskirts of the town before she rounded a small hill and saw a large hobbit, hastily stuffed into breeches and shirt illuminated in the door of a hobbit hole. Quietly, before he could sound another blast on his horn, she called,
"Master Meriadoc?"
"Yes?" The figure stepped forward, "Who is it?"
"Atùvinel of Gondor."
"Lady! What are you doing in the Shire? And at such an hour? Why do you blow the call of Rohan?" Before she answered Atùvinel let go of Nafalon and he wandered to the Green. She quickly unsaddled him, leaving him to rest in peace and comfort. Before she could begin to answer any of Merry's questions he stepped out along the path with a lantern in his hand. He swiftly ushered her inside his home. Merry Brandybuck's hole wasn't usual for a hobbit hole in Buckland. For one it was uncommonly large, Atùvinel did not have to duck under the mantle to cross the threshold, but then Merry was also uncommonly large for a hobbit, an effect of the Ent draught he had been given in Fangorn forest. It was also filled with mementos of his travels. His wife Estella Bolger came out of the bedroom, wrapped in a robe.
"Who is it Merry?"
"Lady Atùvinel." She dropped into a small curtsey. Merry ushered Atùvinel into a large, round room with chairs and a large fireplace.
"What brings you to the Shire Lady? And why the summons?"
"My father sent me to gather the Fellowship of the Ring. I was told to say that you should ride to Minas Tirith with all haste and speed possible.
"Why?" Merry immediately rose and lifted a sword off the wall, holding it in his hands for a long time before putting it on the table before him.
"Father said that a threat has risen once more from the ruins of the East. Sauron seems to have trained a son to take over in his realm if he should fall. He was not as arrogant as he seemed to be."
Merry turned in surprise,
"A son?"
"Yes, and from an evil union. Agaron he is called." Merry let out a bitter laugh.
"He is well named." For in the dwarf speech 'Agaron' means 'black heart'.
The two talked long into the night, Atùvinel telling Merry about her father and mother and Merry regaling her with tales of happier days, of his, Pippin's, Frodo's and Sam's lives in the Shire before the coming of the Ring. Marry, Pippin and Sam had frequently visited the court when Atùvinel and her brother Eldarion were growing up. They had become like uncles to her and the formalities of 'Lady' and 'Master' were soon cast away. They finally slept in the early hours of the morning.
They rose late, as the sun was climbing halfway towards its peak. After Merry had packed and bidden Estella farewell they rode to Thain Peregrin's hole and went through the same ritual. Atùvinel and Merry explained the situation to Pippin and his wife Diamond, then the three rode to Bag End an hour later.
The three hobbits and Atùvinel rejoined an anxious Bergil at the gate and rode together for many leagues, until their roads parted, half the company riding with the hobbits to Gondor, the other half accompanying Atùvinel to the shores of the Sundering Sea, where she boarded a ship to bear her to the Havens.