Disclaimer: Tolkien created Middle Earth, not I. I take no credit for the geography or political characteristics of this story. I only added my own character.

IV

The Red Stallion

Shortly before dawn one of the herders galloped into Elfhild's village. "The red stallion has run away!" he shouted.

Elfhild leaped out of bed, and pushed her way to the door behind her brothers. Outside she listened as people questioned the rider.

"We heard a disturbance around midnight, horses neighing and running on the northern side of the herd. We galloped over immediately, but when we arrived, all was quiet. We checked the herd, but could see nothing wrong, so we resumed our watch. An hour ago we realized the red stallion was gone. We tried to track him, but it was too dark. Now the others are counting the herd to see if he took any with him." The rider paused.

"That stallion," Helm muttered. "We found him as a colt near a spring in the mountains to the north, no doubt that's where he's gone."

"The spring you showed me last year?" Elfhild asked.

Helm nodded.

The sun had just lifted over the horizon when another rider came up. "He took three mares, one belonged to you," he nodded toward Halaf's mother.

"How will I carry my son!" she shrieked. "He cannot ride," she grabbed her daughter, crying hysterically.

"We will not leave you behind," Elfhild's father said.

"Someone has to get the horses," a man said. "We'll have to form a search party now."

"Yes," the other men agreed. They began discussing how they would ride.

Elfhild's father stood silent, his brow wrinkled. He turned toward the river and closed his eyes, gazing across in his mind. "No," he said.

A man turned to him, "What?"

Elfhild's father raised his voice. "We cannot form a search party. There is no time. As many as possible must ride to the Fords of the Isen. The Dunlendings may attack any time. Halaf said they were massing forces. We cannot wait."

"But if we cannot all ride, and the women will be left with no horses. They might use the yearlings, but we sent them south to protect against the raids."

"Yes, the women have to have those horses." The crowd rumbled.

Elfhild looked at Wyn and Frea. "We can get the horses," she whispered. "I think I know where they are."

"Us?" Frea asked, "Don't you remember the stallion?"

"We can't handle a stallion, at least not the red stallion," Wyn said.

"All we need are the mares. He only took three; we can each lead one home. We can chase him off if he tries anything while we're mounted."

Wyn didn't look convinced.

"It might work," Frea said.

Helm turned to the girls. "Could you find the spring on your own?" he asked Elfhild.

"If I have to," she said.

He looked at her again. He had always seen a slender little girl, but now he saw something else. She was tall, and slender, yet strong. A light of adventure had leapt into her eye when she discussed the possibility. As he looked upon her he realized that she was a grown woman, and a strong women. There was something in her bearing that was missing in his mother. She was strong also, but an air of nobility resided around his little sister. The memory returned from his childhood. Somehow, she and Wyn were different, even from Goldwyn.

"You could," he said, simply.

Elfhild stared at him. "Will you ask father?" she finally said.

Helm pushed his way through the crowd and touched his father's arm. "Elfhild could bring back with horses, with Frea and Wyn," he whispered.

Folcwine frowned. He glanced over at Elfhild, then back at the crowd. Elfhild edged toward him. "Silence!" he called, "I believe my daughter has something to say." The crowd quieted, turning toward him with surprise.

"The men must ride, and you must seek refuge in Helm's Deep," she began. "You must leave today. I and my cousin and sister will find the horses and bring them back. We can follow your trail."

The crowd shifted.

"You would let your daughters ride alone on the errand?" a voice asked.

"Let them!" a woman shouted. "They let the horses escape, now let them bring them back." Elfhild could see now that it was Wiglaf. "They aren't even your daughters, they aren't from this clan, they can go!" Venom dripped from her voice.

Elfhild looked at her in shock. For a moment she thought perhaps Wiglaf had gone crazy, but then she noticed the older men and women eyeing the ground. Their eyes flickered toward Elfhild, then away. One old woman shushed Wiglaf furtively.

Folcwine grew stern, "I have taken them under my roof, they are my daughters. I will care for them as a father should, but in time of danger, all must do their part. They have offered to bring back the mares. Would you refuse them?" He looked at Wiglaf till her eyes turned away, then he looked at the rest of the crowd.

"If they go, I will go with them," Wiglaf snapped. "Otherwise how can I trust them to bring back my stallion?"

"Wiglaf, I know that stallion belonged to your brother, and the mare also," Folcwine replied, "but you know the stallion is dangerous. They will not try to bring him back."

"If she does not bring him back, then she will have robbed me of my horse!" Wiglaf cried, "she must bring him back!"

"I will try to bring him back, Wiglaf, but I cannot guarantee that I will be able to do so," Elfhild responded evenly.

"If you do not, then I will charge you with robbery," Wiglaf snapped.

"Come yourself and catch him," Elfhild challenged.

"I would, but I must carry my brother, since I have no horse. My mother cannot bear him alone."

"Let the men take counsel on this matter," Folcwine interrupted. "The rest of you, get ready to leave." The crowd separated into their houses and the men followed Folcwine a short distance away.

Elfhild stayed in the square, staring at the ground. She frowned. Why did that Wiglaf suddenly seem so protective of that stallion? What possessed her to demand it like that? Why did she always seem so demanding?

"Perhaps now you will learn," Wiglaf brushed past her.

Elfhild whirled. "Learn what?" her voice cracked like a whip across the air. "That you that you hate me? I already knew that," he voice dripped sarcasm.

"Perhaps you will learn that others do not have all you have, that they need their horses, while you can ride." Wiglaf whirled and stalked away.

"Eflhild."

She turned to see her mother looking at her.

"Go apologize to her at once," Goldhild ordered.

"Mother!" Elfhild stared at her.

"Go."

Elfhild turned slowly. She scuffed her feet along the ground, then dragged them in the direction Wiglaf had gone. She followed her around the cottage, then stopped. She leaned against the wall, glaring at the ground.

Then she heard crying.

Startled, she looked up. Wiglaf had run a dozen yards into the prairie and thrown herself on the ground. Now she shook with sobs.

Elfhild walked up to her slowly, her mind in turmoil. "Wiglaf?" she asked.

Wiglaf swung around, "I hate you!" she cried. "Why do you have to follow me?" she jumped up.

"I came to say I was sorry for talking to you that way," Elfhild said. "I know you want the stallion."

"Then why don't you bring him back?" Wiglaf demanded.

"Remember when you tried to catch it that time? He almost killed you. He's too dangerous for me to catch," Elfhild said, struggling to keep the frustration out of her voice. "I know Halaf is sick, but I also know the other women and children will help. Gram is a big boy, but he is too young to join Erkenbran. I am sure he will help."

"You can't understand. That stallion means everything to me, if you don't bring him back, you destroy me." Wiglaf turned away.

"If you would quit being so stubborn," Elfhild snapped.

"Stubborn? You're the one who won't bring back my stallion. The least you could do would be to try and catch him. We need that horse. All we had was Halaf's horse, but another man needed it and took it."

"I'm sorry," Elfhild said.

"Prove it, bring back my stallion."

"I can't. Don't you think I'll be helping you when I bring back the mares? Don't you think it will help everyone? Why don't you stop thinking about just yourself and Halaf, think about others!"

"Halaf is all I have," Wiglaf snarled, then she turned and ran.

"Wiglaf!" Elfhild called, but Wiglaf wouldn't stop. Elfhild moaned. "I come back here to apologize and only accuse her of stubbornness and selfishness and make her run away. Elfhild, why don't you be kind for once?" She walked back to the hut and slumped against the wall.

That's where Wyn found her a few minutes later. "Where have you been?" she asked. "We've been looking all over for you!"

Elfhild heard her words as if in a dream. Dampness had soaked into her skirt and chilled her, just as her anger had cooled with the silence. She had failed with Wiglaf, again.

"The men said you could ride after the horses with Frea and I," Wyn continued. "I hope you remember the place as well as you think, because I haven't a clue where it is."

Elfhild stirred, "They said we could go," she repeated.

"Come on, what are you waiting for, the mountains to fall? We have to get ready." With that, Wyn dashed away.

Elfhild's lips curved. With a sigh she pulled herself up and walked back to the house. Already the spot on her skirt felt less cold.

The men had mounted and gathered near the village, ready to ride. The women hurried about in last minute preparations. Goldhild was helping Wyn find food while Frea took off their horse's bundles and prepared to re-pack them.

Goldhild stuffed a sack into Elfhild's hands as soon as she saw her, then told her to fill it from a certain bundle. In a few moments the frenzied activity was over. The three horses stood with saddle and bridle and food enough for four days. The girls strapped their cloaks to the saddles, and checked their water pouches.

"Come back soon," Goldhild cried as she embraced the girls.

Goldwyn grabbed Elfhild around the waist. "I want to come," she pleaded.

"I'm sorry, you can't come now," Elfhild said, bending down to hug her. She looked at her father, and he smiled down from his war horse.

"Ride well, return soon," he said. Pride welled up in his voice. Then he whirled his horse. "Forth!" he cried. "We go to war." His stallion stepped out and the troop followed. Half the men marched after him on foot while the rest were mounted. Every man old enough to fight went with them. For years they had seen the clouds forming. Now the thunder had crashed and they responded.

Elfhild watched them, and her throat constricted. "For Rohan!" she shouted. The village joined in, hurling back their own thunder.

"For Rohan, for King Theoden!"

Then the troop was gone, over the hill. Those who wished could run to the crest and watch them far down the plain. Some did, young wives, seeing their husband off for the first time, and boys, hungering after adventure. Elfhild stayed behind.

"Are you ready?" Wyn asked.

For answer, Elfhild put her foot in her stirrup and swung onto her mare's back. Goldhild handed up her bow and arrows and she settled them in place. "Goodbye," she called to her family. She twisted around at the edge of the village and raised her hand in farewell. Her mother, sister and brothers waved. Little did she know how she would treasure that memory.

As she turned back to her journey, she noticed a rider trotting toward them. It was Wiglaf. She had been waiting for them behind the houses. Now she stopped just beyond where Elfhild had halted.

"Why did you stop?" Wiglaf asked, "I'm coming with you."

Elfhild wanted to scream, but she clamped her lips shut.

"I thought you needed that mare to carry Halaf," Wyn said. "What will your mother do now?"

Wiglaf's eyes flashed and she looked straight at Elfhild, "The others will help her, as you said."

"Wiglaf," Elfhild struggled to keep her voice low, "they did not give you permission to come with us, you must stay."

"Do I need permission to seek to capture what is my own?" Wiglaf demanded.

"Wiglaf, you cannot come with us," Elfhild said.

"Go back to the village immediately," an old man said. The girls started. They hadn't noticed him walking toward them. "Wiglaf, your mother is looking everywhere for that horse," he scowled at her.

Wiglaf slumped as she turned toward the village, but her lips where clamped in a straight line. She didn't look back once.

"Ride quickly," the man admonished Elfhild. "And when you come back, learn to get along with Wiglaf." Then he turned away.

Elfhild nodded. "We will," she said, then added, "at least we'll try." She shook her reins and the three of them began trotting.

"Here's where they left the herd," Wyn said, pulling her mare to a stop.

Elfhild looked at the trampled grass and hoof marks. She nodded. "We should follow their trail as much as we can. If we loose the trail we must go straight to the spring, but they may travel slowly, and we want to catch them as soon as we can."

"You're right," Frea nodded.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Wyn asked. She grinned and dug her heals into her mare's sides. The gold and black buckskin sprang forward.

Elfhild laughed as she kicked Erohin and cantered after he sister. The trail was easy to follow at this point, the four or five horses had trampled the grass enough that they could follow at a gallop.

Elfhild tossed away all thoughts of Wiglaf and the war and concentrated on riding, on the wind tossing her hair and the blissful feeling of flying.

Soon the girls slowed to a trot. Occasionally they slipped off their horses to check the tracks. It seemed like the horses had never drifted below a trot, and if they had, the stallion had urged them on.

The sun climbed, and the girls kept up their trot. They constantly searched the grasslands ahead of them, yet they caught no sight of the red stallion or his herd.

Around noon they stopped for a short rest and allowed the horses to graze, but less than an hour later they were back on the trail. The mountains loomed ever higher before them. Now the ground became more broken. Though the ground dipped up and down, Elfhild realized they were going mostly uphill.

The sun touched the horizon and still the stallion was somewhere ahead.

Elfhild halted her mare near a sheltering crag. It was the last guardian of a valley that fell down from the mountains. "This looks like a good spot to camp tonight," she said. "The spring is just up there," she motioned up the valley. "We can reach it tomorrow and catch the horses."

For answer, Wyn slid off her mare. Frea did the same. Soon they had taken off the horses' saddles and bridles. Frea took them out on picket ropes while Elfhild started a small fire. Wyn arranged their blankets and got out the food. Then they all searched for firewood. A lone tree grew near the shelter of the outcropping and they gleaned many branches near it.

An hour earlier they had gone down to the Isen to let the horses drink. Now they had only themselves to feed.

"I wonder if we should set a watch," Frea said.

"Why?" Wyn asked, "because of the Dunlanders?"

"Not exactly," Frea said, "but many things roam the plains at night."

"Why wants to first watch?" Elfhild asked.

"I do!" Frea and Wyn said at the same time. They laughed.

"Well I want the last one," Elfhild said, "so which of you is easier to wake up? That one should take the middle watch."

Frea pointed to Wyn. Wyn pointed to herself. "No," Frea laughed, "you're supposed to point to me."

"But I am easier to wake up," Wyn said.

"Really? I've never tried," Frea teased. "I always let Helm or Den take care of it."

Wyn scowled, "You know I get up first in the morning."

Frea just smiled.

"I do to!" Wyn insisted.

"She didn't say you didn't," Elfhild said.

"Well, I'll take the middle watch, if you think you can wake me up," Frea said.

"I'll wake you in an hour," Wyn said.

"Not for four hours if you want to live," Frea retorted, grinning.

"Maybe, if I feel like waiting," Wyn teased.

Frea shook her head and lay down.

Elfhild also lay down and soon fell asleep. It felt like only been a few minutes before she felt someone shaking her. Frea was bending over her.