Life and Loss

Chapter 2

The rain beat down on Eomer as he raced his horse and his men hard scouring the land looking for Theodred and his men. They were late getting back from their usual assigned perimeter scouting. Dark days, already heavy on the King, were slowly surrounding and infiltrating Rohan. Thus, they had stepped up their presence in the land to assure the people they would protect them.

Eomer pushed past his fears for Theodred and focused on the task at hand. Worrying was of use to know one. It only clouded the mind. But still he could hear Eowyn's voice in his ear echoing the secret fear held deep within his heart. "He should have been back by now, Eomer. If something has happened...." Appealing to the King had been useless. The frost of old age had come upon him too soon. It was all Grima's poisonous words, he was sure of that. Tonight Theodred and he had been going to discuss how to release Theoden from his mental captivity. Grima must have found out.

Before another thought could enter Eomer's mind, they rounded a corner of trees to the river and saw them. His dead countrymen with their equally dead horses lay strewn across the shore next to the river.

There was an abysmal silence cut only by the pelting sound of the rain as Eomer and his party surveyed the horrific carnage. Many of these were Eomer's friends and yet the grief that pierced his heart found its way to his lips as he whispered, "Theodred."

Eomer's body, racked with grief and anger shouted, "Find the King's son!" It was too painful to mention the name of his kin again.

He and his men quickly got off of their horses and walked among the men, frantically turning over bodies looking for Theodred.

Someone in anger said, "Mordor will pay for this!"

And Eomer, seeing the white hand on the dead Orcs, knew who was responsible. Anger, hatred, revenge all blended into one. The White Wizard will pay for this, he thought.

Finally, a shout from one of his men. Eomer raced over and pulled the young body over. It was Theodred. Eomer was shocked at the sight. Theodred's face was unnaturally pale and his dark wet hair clung to his face. Eomer was frozen by the sight.

Then, suddenly, movement. A breath. "He's alive," whispered Eomer, hardly daring to believe it was true, that there was still a chance that Theodred would live. There was no time to waste. They had to get him home. There they could find a healer to help him. "Get my horse!" shouted Eomer to his men. To the one that had found Theodred he said, "Help me get his armor off." They did so. As they did a low moan of pain escaped Theodred's lips.

"Theodred?" whispered Eomer, his heart so full of grief and hope he was surprised it did not break.

Theodred's eyes fluttered open. He gazed at Eomer with eyes so full of pain, sorrow, and love. "Brother, I thought you were a dream," he said painfully. "My men. I have failed them."

Eomer shook his head vehemently. "No, Theodred. You have fought bravely. The White Wizard has no honor. He is a coward and we will be revenged upon him. Your people still need you. We will get you home and you will be well again."

Theodred's eyes darkened and he said quietly, "I fear not, Eomer."

And that was when he saw it. Eomer saw the wound that was so dark, bloody, and deep that it would have killed a man already with less spirit than Theodred. Eomer feared it was a black wound. Eomer instantly tore a piece of his cloak off and pressed it to the wound to stop the last bits of blood Theodred had in him from deserting him completely. There was no time to think of losing Theodred. Eomer's soul cried out to save him and right now he would move heaven and earth to do so.

Eomer heard his horse coming. A man gave Eomer a cloak which he wrapped around Theodred's shocked body. Two others attempted to lift Theodred, to take him. "No!" shouted Eomer in a grief driven anger his men knew was not directed at them. "I will entrust the King's son to no hands but my own." Eomer got up upon his horse and the men helped him put Theodred into the saddle in front of him. Theodred again moaned in pain and Eomer, one hand on the reigns the other hand holding Theodred in place whispered, "I'm sorry, brother."

Theodred leaned back, but before he lost consciousness he said, "You must look after our people. You must look after our father and sister."

"Back to the King!" Eomer shouted and he and his men galloped at full speed.

Eomer rode fast and hard. Every so often he tried glancing around at Theodred, trying to look at his face, trying to glean some small sign that he would live. The jostling, Eomer was sure, was causing him pain, and Eomer felt helpless to give relief or aid to his dying cousin.

Yes, he was dying, he admitted bitterly to himself. For once the thought of Theodred being absent in his life was shocking and unimaginable. They had been constant companions throughout their lives although their personalities were like the sun and the moon. Theodred, the charismatic one, the one the people admired and adored. He was reckless and incorrigible, but in that way of youth that did harm to no one and made his people smile. Eomer, though no less loved or admired, was the serious, thinking one. Eomer's loyalty to Theoden and Theodred was complete and absolute, never wavering. And it was this fervent loyalty that drove him to save Theodred if he could, but feared that he was too late, too helpless to now save him. It was a horrible feeling for a strong warrior to feel so vulnerable.

Eomer hated this feeling of helpless. He hated feeling vulnerable. He never should have let Theodred go out alone. If he had been there, he might have been able to save him, to protect him. The King's son was too valuable for that kind of mission and he berated himself vehemently.

Finally, finally, they reached home. Shocked Rohirrim came out of the homes to help. Some started crying at the image of the Second Marshall of the Mark. With their help, Eomer gently, every so gently lifted his dying kin from his horse. They put him on a makeshift stretcher. "Call for a healer!" Eomer yelled. He put his hand in Theodred's increasingly cold hand as he hurried with some people up to Theodred's room. "And someone call for Lady Eowyn!"

They hurried Theodred to his room and laid him gently down in his bed. The attendants all scurried away to find a healer and to find Eowyn. Eomer gently put Theodred under his covers. He felt his forehead. It was feverish. He quickly soaked a piece of cloth in the basin. After wringing it, Eomer began to gently wiped Theodred's forehead.

A tear fell down Eomer's face and quickly wiped it away. He had known since his parents death that he had to be the strong one. He had to look after his younger sister. And since he had come to Rohan he had taken on the responsibility of Theodred's care as well. He had failed miserably, he thought. Now he and Theodred would pay the ultimate price.

The sound of Theodred's door bursting open made Eomer command that no more tears should fall. Instead he focused his face into an impenetrable fortress while his heart swayed between a deep, bitter hate of the White Wizard and his soon to be deep, bitter loss of Theodred.

But it was not the healer, it was Eowyn. It did not matter, Theodred hadn't really regained consciousness since Eomer had plucked him from death's door for just a little bit. He was sure Theodred was beyond any healer's power.

Eowyn's eyes were riveted on Theodred. She rushed over, sat on his bedside, took his hands in her equally white ones and whispered emotionally, "Theodred." Theodred, hearing her voice as if far away, tried to answer, tried to open his eyes, but it was useless.

Eowyn's heart started to crack and bleed. She looked to her brother and his eyes told her instantly. She pulled back the cover and saw it for herself, the deadly wound that would never heal. She closed her eyes, grief threatening to overwhelm her. She finally opened her eyes, look to Eomer, drawing strength from him as she always did. "We must tell the King."

It was useless they mutually thought. He was so far gone, so far within Grima's grasp that they felt hopeless to penetrate his mind and soul with the news of his beloved son and their beloved brother. "He must come to see him, Eomer! This will rouse him and he will be like our father of old!"

Eomer hoped and did not believe but he nodded. "I will join you as soon as the healer gets here."

Eowyn nodded. She placed the cover back into place over Theodred. She quickly, prayerfully kissed Theodred's cold hands. She pressed her warm hand against Eomer's arm, kissed him on the cheek, and ran off to Theoden with the ill news.

It was a good thing she left when she did, for the sight of his sister and Theodred was too much for him. He wept silently at the bedside of his fallen, little brother.