Chapter 3.
The second day of riding proved for foreboding than the first. They had left at dawn and throughout the day the temperature rose and the plains sweltered in an unnatural stuffy heat. Throughout the afternoon large, dark clouds began to rise up over them, and a red light could be seen as they approached the river at nightfall.
Out of this glow came a lone rider, a scout that Éomer knew as Ceorl, who was under the command of Erkenbrand. The whole group stopped awaiting the news that he brought. As he approached they saw that his helmet was dirty and dented and his shield had been cloven in half. He dismounted and with gasping breaths spoke to the guards at the front of the line.
"Is Éomer here?" he asked breathlessly but did not wait for a reply, the whole army listened to his words, "You come at last, but too late, and with too little strength. Things have gone evilly since Théodred fell. We were driven back yesterday over the Isen with great loss; many perished at the crossing. Then at night fresh forces came over the river against our camp. All Isengard must be emptied; and Saruman has armed the wild hillmen and herdfolk of Dunland beyond the rivers, and these also he loosed upon us. We were overmastered. The shield-wall is broken. Erkenbrand of Westfold has drawn off those men he could gather towards his fastness in Helm's Deep. The rest are scattered," he stood for a moment, searching for the face of the third marshal of the Mark, "Where is Éomer? Tell him there is no hope ahead. He should return to Edoras before the wolves of Isengard come there."
As Ceorl finished the king rode out from behind his guards and faced the scout speaking with him. The scout was surprised at the king's presence and he knelt before him. The king ordered that a horse be given to the scout and after a few moments council with Gandalf, resolved to hurry to help Erkenbrand at Helm's Deep. Gandalf left the army and disappeared into the darkening night.
"Where is he going?" asked a soldier riding close to Éomer.
"He is going about his business, he goes and comes often when least expected and does not give explanation," Legolas answered in a soft voice still watching Shadowfax speed across the land with his elvish sight.
The company was hastened on by the news and they did not stop near nightfall but continued southward of their original course and on to Helm's Deep. Many scouts rode ahead of them and as they approached the looming fortress arrows began whizzing by them from forces of orcs that had been coming from the river to pursue Erkenbrand.
The news that the scouts brought back was disheartening. Small groups of Rohirrim wandered leaderless to the Westfold Vale and then found themselves retreating from a large company of orcs. The bodies of many men were scattered on the ground as they pressed on towards the entrance of the Hornburg. Of Erkenbrand and his men there was no news, they had not come to Helm's Deep.
Large, red fires leapt up behind them as the orcs and hillmen set fire to the homes and land of the Westfold Vale. Screams and shouts could be heard in the valley and Éomer wished to close his ears to the sound. He hurried to the front of the line, much to the protestations of Gimli and announced the coming of the king to the sentinels at the gate. It opened with a groan before them and the host rode up the steep path into the Hornburg.
The horses were quickly dismounted and taken to the deep parts of the hold; they would be of no more use unless the Rohirrim attained victory. Brynefot's legs shook as Éomer dismounted and helped Gimli off the horse. His coat had taken on a glossy sheen and Éomer was reluctant to leave him in the hands of the young boys assigned to take care of them. Gimli however was happy to be on his two feet again.
"Dwarves need to feel the rock underneath their legs, yes this is good rock," he said looking around in amazement, "Did the Rohirrim construct this fortress?"
"No, it is an old work of the sea-kings. It is not in our knowledge to make such a thing. It served Helm Hammerhand in a time of need and is thus called Helm's Deep by our folk though others call it the Hornburg."
Éomer was called to the king; Théoden and many of his men would remain deep within the Hornburg. Éomer would set his men along the Deeping wall and the tower of the wall. There were few fighting men among the group and many were too young or too old. The majority of Rohan's fighting men were with Erkenbrand and there had still been no news of his whereabouts.
Éomer remained on the wall, shouting orders to his men and giving instructions to Gamling, an old trusted soldier who had been Théoden's right arm in times past. They waited for many hours in the gloom, watching the small orange lights in the valley. The orcs had begun advancing, and a contingent of archers stationed in the Dike below began shooting at the lights. Éomer could her a few faint cries and then the retreat of the Rohirrim archers.
They entered the Deep and the captain reported to Gamling, "The enemy is at hand, we loosed every arrow that we had, and the Dike is filled with orcs. But it will not halt them for long. Already they are scaling the bank at many points, thick as marching ants. But we have taught them not to carry torches."
As he finished talking the whole army cried out as a blinding lightning bolt struck the mountainside. Pouring rain began falling from dark clouds above. As the lightning struck orc archers shot their bows at the revealed men upon the wall, a soldier fell screaming over the battlements. The whole valley before them seemed to be filled with swarming men and orcs. Éomer shouted orders to the archers who began firing at the host that was closing upon the walls.
Rain filled his mouth as he spoke and drenched his hair; Gamling shivered beside him and repeated the orders to the lieutenants. Messengers ran back and forth bringing news to the king who was stationed with the men waiting for an assault on the gate. The largest orcs and many of the Dunlending men were charging up the ramp holding shields above their heads to prevent being shot by the archers on the wall.
They reached the gates and swung forth two large trunks. Aragorn and Éomer both sprang down the stairs to the gate. There the king and his men were bracing the gate. Théoden had no need to tell Éomer to use the side door that led by narrow path to the outside of the great gate. A few good swordsmen had followed them and their gleaming swords swooped at once downward as they met the wild men outside the gate. The crashing of the ram ceased for a moment as they attacked the front group. The trees fell to the ground with a large thud that vibrated the stones under their feet.
"Gúthwinë! Gúthwinë for the Mark!" Éomer yelled with his full voice as the surprised men and orcs turned to face him.
"Andúril! Andúril for the Dúnedain!" Aragorn cried out beside him, unsheathing his own sword. It's light shone in the eyes of their foes.
Éomer brought his sword crashing against that of his enemy and hurled him behind himself and off the ramp. A wild man came charging at him with an unearthly howl, bringing his sword to graze off of Éomer's armored shoulder. Éomer's sword found the opening between the man's helmet and body armor and cleanly beheaded him.
The men and orcs around them had quickly dissipated, or lay dead at their feet. Some orc archers had shot wildly but then retreated as the rest of their kind had been killed. The men turned and returned into the Deep as Aragorn and Éomer stopped in front of the gates for a moment and looked at their condition.
"We did not come too soon," Aragorn said pointing at the bent hinges and bars of the gates and their cracked timbers.
"Yet we cannot stay here beyond the walls to defend them," Éomer said looking over the field behind them and pointing as arrows began to clatter on the stones near them, "Come! We must see what we can do to pile stone and beam across the gates within," Éomer said as they both headed back toward the gate.
Suddenly, he felt two orcs grab him from behind and pull him down to his knees with great force. Éomer could see Aragorn turn back slowly in an almost dream like state and begin to run towards him. Blows hit against his back and for a brief moment he came face to face with death. The heavy weight holding him down was lifted and Éomer heard Gimli cry out in a tongue that Éomer did not know. Two heads fell to the ground and Éomer stood up with the dwarf's help.
They did not speak because they saw more orcs coming up the ramp behind them. Once the door was closed and barred Éomer turned to Gimli with a breathless voice, "I thank you Gimli son of Glóin. I did not know that you were with us, but often the unbidden guest proves the best company. How did you come there?"
The dwarf's face was filled with a wry smile, "I followed you to shake off sleep, but I saw that the hillmen were too large for me so I sat beside a stone to see your sword-play."
"I shall not find it easy to repay you," Éomer said with a chuckle as they returned to the wall.
"There may be many a chance before the night is over. But I am content. Till now I have hewn nothing but wood since I left Moria," Gimli said as he took his place beside Legolas.
Many men still remained down near the gates waiting for the enemy to finally break the wood and enter the Deep. The early morning brought little hope and a reminder of the soldier's great weariness. When the sun was streaked with red grappling hooks were hurled over and large ladders of the orcs were raised up.
Éomer was with the men as they frantically tried to cut the ropes and keep the orcs from mounting the walls. Aragorn helped him to rally the men three times as they struggled to keep the walls from the enemy. Éomer struck down an orc and was assaulted by a large Uruk-hai of Isengard. Éomer struck him down and the iron on the creature's helmet broke a notch in Éomer's sword.
Yells arose from below as the wild men were rallied around their commander's and began another assault on the gate. Gamling leaned on his sword and sighed, "Do you hear their voices?"
"Yes but it has no meaning, it is like the shrieking of birds to me," Éomer answered.
"Many of them cry in the tongue of the Dunland. I know it well; it is an ancient tongue of men and was once spoken in many western valleys of the Mark. They hate us and are glad that our doom seems at hand. They cry out, "The king, the king! We will take their king. Death to Forgoil! Death to the Strawheads! Death to the robbers of the North!" They have not forgotten that Eorl was granted their land from Gondor," Gamling finished leaning on the wall and listening to the cries.
Éomer listened to the shouting men and his heart quavered. The hatred that they had for the Rohirrim would not be quenched until victory was at hand or the king was taken. Saruman had done wisely to choose them as allies. Éomer began to make his way down the stairs to check the stability of their men on the ground. He was knocked to the earth with a deafening explosion, he could feel his head bleeding as he rose. He touched it and winced, the wound from the prison had been reopened and it bled freely.
He rose and joined a handful of other soldiers as they found a large part of the wall blown away by some unknown devilry. Dust covered their faces as all the debris settled and the wild men and orcs entered the Deep. Aragorn leaped into the breach with a shout and many other soldiers flooded down to try to repel the attack. Éomer watched as a dark swarm overran the sparsely defended walls and the Deep was taken. He fought fiercely but was swept back by the tide of enemies and retreated up the stairs to the caves with many of his men. The whole scene was chaotic and disorderly. He was knocked on the side of the head and fell to the stairs unconscious. A figure stooped down and lifted his arms dragging him away.