"I believe the only true religion consists of having a good heart." - The Dalai Lama

Chapter 5

It's kind of amazing how fast you can learn a language when you're completely surrounded by it. I almost flunked out of undergrad after I struggled so hard trying to pass French. Why an elementary school teacher needs to know French in America was beyond me, but had I studied it in France, I'm certain I would have passed with flying colors.

To help me learn, Frieda emersed me in chores, sending me all over the town, integrating me into her society. I learned nouns, verbs, and adjectives the fastest and soon picked up the conjugation techniques. My speech was probably more broken then her common tongue, but that hardly mattered. The townspeople were weary of me at first, but as I learned their language over the next month, they were not so skittish around me. They exchanged smiles with me as I passed them on the streets. They learned my name and I their's.

I learned many things. Currency, trade, cooking techniques. But what I learned the most of was horses. These were a people who prided themselves on their horses. They bred horses for survival. Most of the meat they ate was horse. They drank horse milk. Horses aided them in their daily lives and they were as reliant on them as they were the sun and rain for their crops. Everyone here had an understanding of how to ride and tack a horse. Everyone, it seemed, owned at least one horse for their family. It wasn't a luxury, it was a way of life and it was the one thing I lacked in integrating with this society. Eothain's visit on an overcast day would soon change that, though.

"You are looking well," he said in common tongue, walking up to his sister's garden and leaning against the gate.

I switched to Rohirric, looking up from the plants. "And sounding even better."

He chuckled, continuing in my native language. "You have come a long way, I must say."

I had been picking rosemary in Frieda's garden to help her mix a salve. I grabbed my basket, almost full, and exited, closing the gate behind me. "I am learning and improving every day."

"I can tell, and it is most exciting."

We stood there, and I was unsure of what to say next. It had been two weeks since a summons had come for the eored to ride to aid Eomer's cousin in another Orc attack. "How was your trip?" I asked, unable to bear the awkward silence any longer.

He let out a large sigh. "Theodred Prince fairs unwell at the Hornburg. Orcs attack from the Gap of Rohan too often. He loses more men every time they enter territory. More wives without husbands, more children without fathers. These attacks continue and Theoden King does nothing from Edoras."

"What about Eomer?" I asked. I had not spoken to him since that day he came to fetch me from the pasture. I had seen him, though, and every time, the dark circles and bags under his eyes became more pronounced, as if they were becoming a part of his permanent skin.

"Lord Eomer fairs as best as to be expected. But he is not what I came to talk to you about."

"I thought you had just come to say hello after returning from the Hornburg?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you would like to go for a ride? There is a mare in the stables that I have been asked to take out for some exercise."

I shook my head. "I'm too busy. Frieda needs the garden trimmed and I promised to fetch some things from town-"

"Frieda said to give you the day off. You've been working so hard, she says you deserve it."

A day off was a luxury in this place, I had come to see. Everyday work was enough to keep the people busy from dawn until dusk. The one thing they could make time for was their horses. And I couldn't lie and say it wouldn't be nice to spend some time with a person who spoke my language. "Alright, then," I agreed, running into the house and grabbing an overcoat and the blanket Eomer had given me just over a month ago

Back outside, the sky grew ominous. "Are you sure we should ride in this weather?"

"No thunder sounds and a little rain never hurt anyone. Come, Mallory. You are in serious need of a break."

I smiled and followed him. At the gate of the city, a young boy waited for us, a chestnut horse with a black mane and tail waited. "Mallory, may I present Neidr."

"Jumper," I translated, walking up to the horse and stroking her nose. "Helo ceffyl da."

Eothain took the reins from the young squire and chuckled. "Good friends you two will be. I can already see it."

"Where are we going?" I asked as the gate started to open.

"Not far. Perhaps over a few ridges. She is almost old enough to join the eored. Her breeder wanted to see how she would fair beyond the pasture. If she can carry both of us, she will serve any rider well."

I was happy when he didn't offer to help me onto her saddle. Very glad we broke that stupid habit. He pulled himself up behind me and grabbed the reins, sending her running down the hill. At the base of the hill, he slowed her down. "How are you, Mallory?" he asked.

I smiled, even though I didn't feel like it and he couldn't see me. Smiling was how I attempted to cope with my situation. "I'm taking it day by day."

"There has been no word from Gandalf Greyhelm, nor Saruman the White. I had hoped Edoras would have heard from it's Wizard advisors by now, especially with the fights in Rohan becoming ever more frequent and deadly."

I remembered what Eomer had told me on my first morning in Aldburg. That Saruman was the one commanding and sending the Orcs to attack his cousin at the Hornburg and that Eothain didn't know anything about that. I wondered why that was. "Eothain, why do the Orcs attack?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do they fight for? What benefits them from killing Men of Rohan?"

"Orcs do not care about benefit. They kill because that is their nature. Melkor made it so."

"Who is Melkor?"

"You have never heard of Melkor?"

"I'm not from this land, Eothain. There are many things I haven't heard of."

"Melkor was the fallen Ainur. The only child of Eru Iluvatar to fall"

"You basically spoke gibberish to me just now."

"This will be a tale, then," he said, hopping off of Neidr and walking beside her, reins in his hands. "Eru Iluvatar was the creator of this world. The greatest of beings and the first of beings. At one point, the only being. He created fifteen Valar, with whom he created the world."

"So, Eru Iluvatar is...God?"

"I believe there are some countries that call Eru and the Valar gods, but as I understand it, "god" is a term one would use in worship. Men of the West do not worship Eru or the Valar. We simply hold them is highest regard, especially Bema."

"Oh, I've heard the name Bema," I cut in. "Many people in Aldburg use his name in vain."

Eothain chuckled. "Bema is the huntsman. He was the great rider and for that, we honor him. But you didn't ask of Bema, you asked of Melkor and his Orcs."

"Okay, continue with the Orcs."

He smiled. "Melkor was...rebellious, I suppose you could say, and he wanted to make creations of his own. After the creation of the world, races to inhabit it were created next. Dwarves, created by Aule, Ents, created by Yavanna. Men and Elves were created by Eru himself."

"Wait, wait, wait," I said, turning further towards Eothain. "Dwarves, Ents, and Elves?"

"Yes," he said, matter-of-factly. "Though no one has seen Ents in thousands of years."

"I don't know what an Ent is, but Elves?"

"Do you not know of the fair folk?"

I turned back forward. "This conversation took quite the turn."

"Indeed," he said. "Perhaps we get back to the original question?"

"That one question sprouted a million more."

"Well, you can ask them when I finish. We have all day. Anyway, with all of these creatures, Melkor wished to create his own. The Orcs are a part of that wish. They are mutations of Elves. They hate any and all things, even themselves. Especially themselves."

"So, they attack Rohan because they just...hate?"

"Yes. Would you not hate a race you were considered the poor, ugly imitation of?"

"I guess that's one way to put it. But what about the Elves? Tell me abou-"

Rain hadn't even started when the lightning struck the ground before us. Neidr bucked as the thunder sounded with the bolt and I fell, a sharp pain hitting my head before I saw black.

The first thing I felt was that my head was much colder than my body. The second was the headache. Sharp, shooting pains like the migraines I would get as a teenager, plunging through my head. Behind the lids of my eyes, I could see the flickering of a fire. I opened them. I was in one of Frieda's sickrooms at the barracks. Someone had changed my clothes. I wasn't wearing the coat and blanket I had been out on the plains. Instead, only a faded white nightgown. I reached for my head, realizing that my hair was soaking wet and wrapped in some kind of bandage.

"Diolch i Bema eich bod chi'n effro," a voice said from the corner. Thank Bema you're awake.

"Eomer," I muttered, surprised to see him.

"How fair you?" he said, switching to common tongue. "You hit your head quite hard."

"It hurts," I said. "Where is Eothain?"

"Perhaps you should rest more."

"Eomer, where is Eothain?" I asked again.

The Marshal sighed. "Eothain was leading you and the horse back to Aldburg. He was struck by a second lightning burst. Neidr brought you back to the gate."

"Is he alright?"

Eomer looked pained. "Mallory, Eothain was struck by lightning. He is dead."