"It's the will, not the skill."- Unknown

Chapter 4

When I woke up the next morning, Frida wasn't there. I cracked open the door and peeked into the main room, but it was abandoned. I didn't know what time it was, but it couldn't have been that late in the day. It was cold again, though, with no flames burning in the fireplace. I shivered, thinking to put the cloak Eothain had given me back on, but I had folded it up to return to him. Eomer's blanket was spread over the bed. That had been given to me and was not for returning so I spread that over my shoulders instead, still warm from my sleep. I had slept in the clothes Frida had given me yesterday, but I figured no one here would mind the wrinkles. There was no mirror to check my hair and face. I had no soap to wash it anyway, let alone running water. I took a deep breath and walked into the main room. Her bedroom door was ajar and she was not there either.

I was baffled. I would have never let a complete stranger sleep in my house then leave them there by themselves. I waited maybe two minutes before the waiting made me crazy, then I walked out the front door.

It was morning still, the sun was low in the sky and mist still clung to the grass, but the small town was already bustling. I could see women tending gardens outside their houses with children scattered around the place playing games. Men were scarcely seen, though, but the few I could make out were elderly. I looked around the town for Frida-I could see almost all of it from here-but I couldn't find her. So I walked.

When I left Frida's front yard, eyes all turned in my direction as I passed. Words spoken in that strange language of Rohirric echoed in my ears. I felt my stomach churn and my face burn red at the unwanted attention, but I didn't back down. I continued to walk down the path but I soon realized I had nowhere to go.

If Frida couldn't be found, there was always Eothain. Frida had said he lived in the barracks. I didn't know where that was, but it was such a small town, I was certain if I wandered long enough I would find it eventually.

People continued to stare at me as I walked through their town, their whispers following me. A small part of me was glad that I didn't know what they were saying, though. I knew whatever it was couldn't have been that good. I imagined most of these women in town were wives to the men in the eored that I had traveled with. Perhaps their husbands had spoken of me. My strange attire and accent that they could not recognize. Not to mention the fact that these people were dealing with some kind of trouble, at least the eored was. They probably needed some kind of hot gossip like me to distract them.

The road brought me to what I imagined was the center of town. Nothing here looked like a barracks. Mostly small houses or possibly shops were there and yet another barn. A larger building stood there as well, but I couldn't tell you what it was. Through the window, I could see multiple tables and three chimneys protruded from its roof. I concluded it was some kind of tavern, not yet open for today's business and I looked for a path to continue my journey.

The small castle from yesterday that I had deduced was Eomer's home was the only other notable landmark I could see and I figured it couldn't hurt to explore down there. So I headed in that direction, noting the large wooden building that stood beside it. Perhaps that was the barracks.

I was far enough away from villagers now, so my anxiety levels started to even out. I could hear the clanging of swords in the large building as I approached and figured I had guessed right. I didn't want to disturb anyone and draw more attention to myself and I spotted horses grazing in a pasture beside the barracks. I made my way over there, watching them graze inside a wooden fence. This area of the fortress was basically one large field of grass. I could make out the edge of the wall in the distance and the pasture seemed to reach its length, giving these horses plenty of space to graze. There were so many bars in town, I wondered where they all grazed if these were the eored's horses.

I tried to spot Arrow in the field, but there were so many chestnuts. I counted seven. It was hard to distinct him from the others. Firefoot, however, was easily spotted, his stormy spotted coat standing out in the crowd. Among the rest, unsaddled by his tack, there was something different about him. He wasn't bigger or stronger, but he seemed to almost glow in the rising sunlight. I don't know how long I stood there, watching the horses go about their lazy day, but the sun continued to rise and the air grew warmer. Not warm enough for me to take off the blanket, but eventually I stopped shivering. The grass was too dewy to sit down upon, so I stood, the wind casually lifting the edge of my skirt and the blanket in small ripples.

"What are you thinking about?" a voice asked, causing me to jump right out of my skin. I turned around and found Eomer there, wearing his armor and sweat pouring down his face despite the chill in the air. I tried to catch my breath to answer his question, but I must have taken too long. "I didn't mean to startle you, yet again. I am sorry, Mallory."

"It's fine," I said, willing my heart rate to slow back down.

"It's fine?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "You don't mind getting the wind knocked out of you?"

"What I mean is, I forgive you," I said through steady breathing. He stood there for a moment in silence, seemingly waiting on me. "What?"

"I asked what you were thinking. You were staring so intently at the horses."

I had been wondering about Firefoot's coat, but I didn't want to sound stupid. "I was...thinking about home."

He nodded. "Yes, your strange home not of this world. When we arrived last night I poured over a map of mine that hangs in my study. The places you named? They do not exist here."

"That doesn't surprise me, honestly."

He walked up beside me, leaning against the fence. "So have you given any thought as to how you might return?"

"Eothain mentioned something about Wizards? They had strange names."

His eyes grew instantly dark and his shoulders tensed up. "Mallory, you must promise me you will stay away from the Wizards."

"So they are bad?" I asked, getting even more confused.

"Saruman the White has poisoned these lands. The Orcs and Uruks that attack my cousin in near the Isen, they are creatures acting on his bidding. He is evil and dangerous."

"Why would Eothain tell me about him if he were dangerous."

"Eothain does not quite understand the lengths of these troubles," he said, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "Most of the men in my eored do not. I receive correspondence from my cousin often and he informs me that the Orcs have begun wearing the sigil of Saruman. They are his creatures and he has decided they will attack my land and my people. As for Gandalf Greyhelm, he has been banished from the lands by the king. He never visits with tidings. Only warnings of ill news. My uncle has forsaken his judgement and advice."

"What is this war really about?" I asked. "I keep asking and no one will tell me."

"It is a long and strenuous tale, Mallory. Some of which may just be magic and fiction. Stories told to children in the night to scare them."

"Will you tell me?"

He shook his head. "Perhaps some other time. I came because Frida is looking for you. She was summoned to the barracks before you woke to treat one of my riders. I saw you standing out here and I came to fetch you."

"I shouldn't have left her house."

"Why not?" he asked. "You are not a prisoner here, Mallory. We have offered you shelter and you do well to utilize it."

I smiled. "Thank you. That does make me feel a little better."

His eyes met mine and I held their gaze, determined for once, not to be the one to break it. And I succeeded. He bowed his head and motioned toward the barracks. "She waits for you there."

With that, he opened the gate to the pasture and went inside. I didn't want to leave him. I wanted to stay and watch him pet his horse. He was the one thing in this world that seemed to bring me comfort, as intimidating and imposing as he was. But he continued to walk away, as much as I didn't want him to.

I walked toward the barracks, ignoring the dew of the morning lingering on my ankles and the hem of this dress. It was a short walk and I soon found a door that led inside. The smell was awful. I honestly couldn't describe it, but it stung my nose and made my eyes water.

In the room I had entered, there were women all around and giant strips of thick, wet fabric hung from the ceilings or lay across large, slanted wooden planks. The women were brushing down the fabrics with different tools. Tanning, I figured it was. Turning cattle skin into leather.

A woman approached me and began speaking in Rohirric and I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I don't understand." Every head shot up in that room towards my direction and it was like I was back in town, everyone staring at me. But Eomer had said I was a guest and I had nothing to fear. "I'm looking for Frieda," I said, meeting eyes with everyone in the room, determined to not let their curiosity get to me.

Another woman stood and approached me, grabbing my hand and smiling. "Frieda," she repeated, and pulled me out of the large room and into another corridor. Her hand was rough and calloused, much like everyone else's. My hands were soft in comparison. I was a teacher. The only callouses I had on my hands were from holding a pencil for too long against a finger. These were strong people, their occupations more laborious than mine. As she led me down the corridor, I noticed her upper arms. She was strong, probably from pushing those wooden rods across that hard animal skin.

She stopped at a door, knocking and opening it gently, speaking softly through the crack in Rohirric. I heard Frieda's voice respond and the woman turned back to me, pushing me through the door and shutting it behind me. Eomer's blanket was still wrapped around my shoulders and i grasped it tight as I saw what was behind the door.

A young man lay in a cot inside this sweltering room. I had spent the whole morning cold on the plains of this land and now, I was breaking into a sweat as a fire burned hot through a fireplace. Sweat poured off of his face, yet he seemed to be shivering under the thick blankets, but that isn't why I clutched at my own. His leg was exposed and it was bad. Twisted and mangled, turning black with rot, it was probably the grossest thing I had ever seen and I choked down bile that threatened to come up with this new sight.

"Mallory, nífara, you are...white? The color gone from your face," Frieda said, standing up from the man's side and coming to my own.

"Why is it so hot in here?" I asked, pulling the blanket off and turning around.

"To sweat out his disease," she said. "Come. Get away from this room." She opened the door and pushed me out.

"What happened to him?" I asked.

"He was stepped on by a horse. His leg is gone. We remove it today." She said this so matter-of-factly.

"Do you do this a lot?"

"I am healer, nífara. I do what I need to so that my people live."

She was so steady. So accepting of the fact that she was to remove this man's leg. I leaned against the wooden wall, happy to be out of the sweltering room. I looked over at Frieda, still in awe of her steadiness. "Eomer said you were looking for me."

"Yes. You said you would help in healing." She nodded back at the door. "But now I think that too much for you."

"I wasn't expecting to remove a man's leg first thing in the morning."

She nodded. "Healing is...messy. Maybe too messy for nífara."

"Is it always this messy?"

"Some sicknesses are weak and easy. But these days Rohan sees more of the messy things than of my past."

"Then maybe it is too messy for me. But I still don't want to be a burden."

"Nífara is no burden on me or Eothain. But we will find something for you, Mallory. What do you do in your homeland?"

I had mentioned school to Eothain and he had had no idea what I was talking about. Frieda probably wouldn't understand what a teacher was if they didn't have schools in Rohan, so I said the next closest thing. "I take care of children."

Frieda nodded. "With many father's gone and wives aiding in the needs of the war, the children of Aldburg do need guidance. But I fear you would be little help without speaking Rohirric."

"That's what I figured."

"So, you must learn!"