A/N: Once again, thank you for all the lovely reviews. Really appreciate it. Apologies to people who have had problems trying to review. I have no idea why that is. If anyone more familiar with can suggest a reason/solution, please do.

Now, back to the King of Rohan and his problems.

Chapter 14 – Loyalty and oaths

"Poison?" Eomer was shocked. "That makes no sense. Galwyn needed me alive as a hold over Eowyn. Why would she poison me?"

Erika's brow furrowed in thought. "When did these symptoms begin?"

Eomer gave a bitter laugh. "Until Elfhelm enlightened me I did not even know what day it was nor how long I had been imprisoned. How can I answer such a question?"

"I presume they were not present the first time I came to you. What of the second time?"

"I don't know." He didn't mean to sound so ill-tempered, but his head throbbed and his stomach was twisted into agonising knots. Could she not see that all his strength was being used in resisting the urge to curl up and embrace his misery on the soft grass of the plain?

"Please, my lord. It could be important."

The raw appeal on her face reached through his pain. He bit back the urge to curse and instead did his best to concentrate on her question. "I was dizzy. Remember? I nearly fell and you asked me about it."

Erika's eyes narrowed. "Yes. I recall. What else? Any little piece of information might help."

He clenched his jaw as another wave of pain rippled through him. Think. He had to think. "There was a day, or at least I think it was a day, when Galwyn did not come and I had neither bread nor water. I think that was when the cramps began." He frowned. "But when she did come, they lessened. Surely if there was poison in what she gave me they would've grown worse not better?"

Lothiriel dropped onto her knees in front of him. "Galwyn is both cruel and clever. What if she created a poison that has but a small effect when taken regularly, but which the body craves if denied? It would be perfect – weakening you slowly while you are her prisoner, but having a devastating effect should you escape."

Eomer sucked in another pained breath. "If that is the case, what would you suggest? That I return to my cell?" His patience was just about exhausted and he was unable to prevent the sarcasm. All this talk was serving little purpose.

"No, of course not," Lothiriel said, unperturbed by his sharpness. "But if we can work out how the poison is affecting you, perhaps we can find a way to fight it." She looked hopefully towards Erika, but was disappointed to see the healer frown in response. "You can do that, right?"

"Ask me about fever and chills. A child's rash or cough. These are things I know how to cure. But poison..." She trailed off.

It was what Eomer had suspected. Erika might be skilled with broken bones and bruises, but she did not have answers to everything. "We're wasting time," he said, not wanting to think about the possible outcome of the situation he now found himself in. With grim determination he pushed himself to his feet and headed towards the horses. "We ride for Edoras."

Erika and Lothiriel both climbed to their feet, but nobody moved to follow him. Worse, they were now talking about him as though he wasn't there. Was this what happened when a man emptied his stomach in public? Suddenly he was an invalid whose decisions could be ignored? He saw Elfhelm shift his weight uncomfortably as the three of them formed a huddle.

"Is it not possible that vomiting has purged the poison from his body?" Elfhelm said.

"Ordinarily, yes," Erika replied. "But without knowing what poison it is or how much he's been given, who can say. And if Lothiriel is right about Galwyn's intention..."

"But we cannot be sure of that," he said. "You said yourself that you did not know of any poison that acts in such a way."

"Unfortunately our lack of knowledge does not make it impossible," Lothiriel said.

"Elfhelm, the open countryside is no place for a sick man," Erika said. "There is a holding a few leagues from here where once I helped the wife through a difficult birth. We would be made welcome there and offered protection should Selred track us."

Lothiriel nodded. "She's right, Elfhelm. We should find shelter. Somewhere with access to fresh water and..."

"Elfhelm!" Eomer barked the Marshall's name. "I may be sick but unless I am very much mistaken I am still the king." He swung himself up into the saddle, desperately trying not to reveal what an effort it was to do so. There were more important things at stake than his health right now. Eowyn was alone with Ceorl – a situation he was desperate to remedy. He gestured impatiently to Lothiriel to join him. "We have wasted time enough."

Elfhelm finally stepped towards him, but there was appeal on his face, rather than obedience. "Eomer..."

"Enough!" he snarled, his patience finally snapping. "By the gods, Elfhelm, have I not made myself clear enough? We ride to Edoras."

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The woods. At last. Elfhelm felt a moment of brief relief, but as he turned to speak to Eomer his mood darkened again. The king looked terrible. Even in the poor light of dusk, the pallor of his face was apparent. His skin glistened with an unhealthy sweat that made his ragged clothes cling damply to his body and caused his hair to hang in lifeless strands. At least he was alert, though. Several times during the afternoon Elfhelm had twisted round in his saddle to check on Eomer, and found him with his head resting against Lothiriel's back, either asleep or unconscious. The princess had said nothing, but it was clear from her face she was exhausted from bearing his weight.

They were all exhausted.

With the possible exception of Eomer, none of them had slept the previous night. And now they'd been travelling all day; pushing the horses as fast as they dared. With two riders to each saddle, progress had been slower than Elfhelm would have liked. His nerves were strained from constantly listening for riders in pursuit. Whatever head start they may have had was sure to have been lessened with each passing league, and he was surprised they had reached the woods without being intercepted. Now, though, he was painfully aware they could go no further.

"Eomer," he said. "Darkness will fast be upon us. We must rest." He saw the king frown and pre-empted his protest. "We will do ourselves no favour if we wear out the horses." Reluctant acceptance washed over Eomer and he nodded, not wasting his energy on speech. Elfhelm glanced towards the woods again, wondering where it would be best to spend the night. He knew there was a small stream that meandered in a seemingly random pattern. They could water the horses and then press deeper into the trees. He glanced at Eomer again, and decided not to burden him with the details of his plan. Right now, staying in the saddle seemed to be task enough for the king.

When at last they had found a place to pass the night, he settled the horses, and ate a swift meal of dried meat and hard biscuits. Erika encouraged Eomer to eat, but he barely swallowed two mouthfuls before retching. After that he refused anything other than a few sips of water, and was now sitting with his back against a tree, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He looked far younger and far more vulnerable than Elfhelm could ever recall. Wishing that he could offer more in the way of comfort, he removed his cloak and wrapped it around Eomer's shoulders, giving him a look that forbade protest.

"We must set a watch," Eomer said. "Take turns to act as look-out."

"Do not trouble yourself. It is already sorted."

"I will take a turn," Eomer said with grim determination.

That caught the attention of the women. "You will do no such thing," Lothiriel said. "You need to rest. Is that not so, Erika?"

"Indeed it is," the young healer replied. "Lothiriel and I will take turns with Elfhelm. You will sleep."

Elfhelm realised that he was not the only one staring at the king with an expression that broked no argument as Eomer opened his mouth to protest. Lothiriel was standing over him with her hands on her hips, and Erika, for all her young looks and small stature, was doing a passable impression of an immovable mountain. Faced with such a united front, Eomer gave a rueful smile and raised his hands in submission. "It appears I have fallen into the hands of three of the most bossiest people in Middle Earth."

"We are simply concerned for your wellbeing," Elfhelm said, taking what pleasure he could in Eomer's mellow mood. If a short time out of the saddle had revived Eomer enough to complain of their fussing, perhaps he would have regained his strength by morning. Perhaps he was not as sick as Erika believed after all.

"And I am grateful for it," Eomer replied, then softly added, "Even though it makes me feel more like a child than a king."

"I seem to remember that when you were a child, you were just as stubborn about admitting to being unwell," Elfhelm said.

"You would have acted likewise if you'd had to suffer some of the remedies concocted by the healers. I swear they made every potion taste as foul as possible on purpose," Eomer retorted. He glanced up at Erika. "No offence to you, my lady."

"None taken, Sire. However, I will take offence if you do not rest."

Obediently Eomer pulled the cloak tighter and settled down to sleep. Elfhelm, Lothiriel and Erika exchanged a satisfied look over his head, and set about their duties.

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Elfhelm woke with a jerk, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword.

"'Tis only me, my Lord. Forgive me for startling you."

He felt a soft hand fold over his, and discovered himself looking up at Erika. He pushed himself into a sitting position. It was still dark beneath the canopy of trees, but he could tell from the scent in the air that dawn was not far off. "What's wrong?" he demanded seeing the worry on her face.

She glanced over her shoulder to where Eomer was lying, a huddled shadow at the foot of a tree. "He grows worse. I do not know if he will have the strength to sit astride a horse today. And even if by some miracle he does, I can guarantee that tomorrow he will not." She paused, allowing Elfhelm time to absorb her words. "We cannot continue to Edoras."

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying, my Lord, that the king is not fit enough to make the journey. We must go back – to the holding I told you of."

"You heard what he said last night. He ordered us to Edoras. He will never agree to your suggestion."

"What if we do not tell him?"

Elfhelm stared at her in astonishment. "Are you suggesting we lie to the king?"

"I am suggesting we do not enlighten him as to our true destination. Elfhelm, unless I am very much mistaken, he will be beyond noticing that the sun is not where it ought to be."

"I cannot do that," Elfhelm said horrified. "I have sworn oaths to this man. Oaths of loyalty. Of honour. I will not lie to him."

"So, you will obey him even if it means he is riding to his death?"

He was shocked at the bluntness of her words. "You do not know what you are asking of me."

"Yes, I do," Erika replied. "Oaths and honour cost me the life of the man I loved. And though I mourn every day for his loss, I do not feel anger for the cause for which his blood was spilled. I love Rohan, Elfhelm, and I wish to see it in the hands of a good and wise king as much as you do. That is why you must do this. I cannot treat him here. Perhaps I will not be able to do at the holding either, but at least there I can try. Out here in the woods I have no medicines and no time to gather herbs when we are in danger of being discovered at any moment."

"Lie to the king?" Elfhelm said slowly, trying to comprehend such a deed.

"As I said, it may be possible to avoid actually lying."

"But we cannot avoid going deliberately against his order."

She did not reply to that. Elfhelm huffed out a breath. He heard it said that sometimes it was necessary to engage in a small evil in order to bring about a greater good. It was a philosophy he had never subscribed to. Until now. Erika was right. Rohan needed Eomer. What was the point in trying to reach Edoras quickly if he died in the attempt?

The sound of a breaking twig alerted him to Lothiriel's approach. "I could not help but overhear," she said.

Elfhelm glanced nervously at Eomer, and was relieved to see the king had not stirred. The mere fact that he was remotely contemplating a course of action that could be construed as disloyal disturbed him. To have Eomer overhear...

Lothiriel was talking, and he snapped his attention back to her. "Eowyn will not stand idly by for long. If we do not return, she is sure to take matters into her own hands and deal with Ceorl herself. It is true that she will assume the worse of any delay, and if it were possible I would spare her that. However she made it quite clear that she would sacrifice Eomer to save Rohan. Therefore we lose little by going to the holding, but we risk much if we do not."

"Let me be sure I understand," Elfhelm said, his brain spinning at the princess's logic. "You are saying that whether Eomer is free or not, sooner or later Eowyn will do whatever is necessary to keep the kingdom from falling into Ceorl's hands."

"Exactly," Lothiriel said.

"Why are we still debating this?" Erika said. "Have you not understood my words? The king will not make it to Edoras in his current state. We must take him to the holding. Even there I cannot guarantee he will survive."

Elfhelm stared at her, horrified by the additional information. "Eomer cannot die."

Erika did not meet his gaze. "I may not be able to prevent it."

"He cannot die," Elfhelm repeated as though saying the words would make it true.

"Then please, let me do what I can to save him."

Was it so very wrong to defy a direct order of the king if doing so might save his life? Would such an act be judged as treason? But would he not actually be oath-breaking if he did not do all in his power to keep Eomer alive? He was damned if he did, damned if he didn't. He drew in a deep breath and made his decision.

"Very well, we'll take him to the holding."