Disclaimer: All familiar characters, places and events belongs to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien and its licensees. Anything you don't recognize belong to the authors.
Dedicated to our readers who have been so patient waiting for this chapter. Real life has settled down considerably so there will not be as extensive a wait before the next chapter.
A Hidden Hope – Chapter 10
By Dancingkatz and Rhyselle
Late February T.A. 3019 – Edoras
Eowyn reached for another cloth and dipped it into the water. She needed to bring the fever that had once again racked Theodred down before he fitted again. She was weary but so long as her cousin drew breath she wasn't abandoning him.
The healer stopped in the doorway of the Prince's chamber and coughed as the odor of the infected wound made his eyes water. He tapped the side of his foot against the door frame, as his hands were full. "My lady? The lad said you needed more febrifuges for his highness?"
"Yes. Did you bring them?" She didn't look at the man, her attention on the ugly wound that was festering in spite of everything she'd done. "Oh, Theo. Why? You were doing so well."
He gave her a withering look that she did not see and crossed to the bed with his tray of herbs and the flask of fever potion balanced atop it next to a small steaming kettle. He drew a sharp breath at the sight of the wound. "Bema! Why is he still breathing?"
Eowyn turned towards the healer with a harsh reprimand on her lips but when she saw the astonishment on his face, she bit it back and continued her ministrations. "The question, Master Healer, is why he is suddenly failing, when only two days ago, he was awake and speaking to me, even if weak."
He put the tray down on the side table and began to break off pinches of the various leaves and stems that lay on it, dropping them into the empty horn cup, muttering under his breath as he did so.
The old man dropped the last bit of crushed leaf into the cup and poured the hot water over the contents, swirling it to blend and then setting it down to steep. He shook his head. "Sometimes we cannot know why a person who is healing suddenly fails--even when we've done everything we know to cure the patient. It is Bema's will." He brushed a sweat-soaked strand of Theodred's hair from the Prince's forehead and flinched at the temperature of the skin. "Has he had a seizure?"
"Not today. But yesterday, he had three of them before the fever broke."
"Aiii." Cadfal sighed. "When did the fever return?" He held his breath and bent over the wound, trying to forget that this was the crown prince, to be objective in his diagnosis.
"An hour ago." Eowyn's hands were working independently of her thoughts, continued to moisten the burning skin.
Cadfal chewed on his lower lip then took the cup and handed it to her. "Start to get this down him. I'll be right back." He turned towards the door.
Eowyn continued trying to cool her cousin's fevered skin. She was tired, more tired than she'd ever been. Ever since she'd awakened to find Grima bent over Theodred, she dared not sleep. Rubbing at her sore eyes with her sleeve, she exchanged the cloth for a cup that stood on the nightstand. It was empty and she went to fill it from the waiting container that stood next to the door. But the waxed leather bucket was empty as well. A pool of water lay on the floor about it and she noticed that the wax had melted away from part of the stitched seam at the base of the vessel. It must have been set too close to the fire. She sighed, the vessel was useless now and she'd sent the youth who had been assisting her off an hour ago to get some sleep. She really didn't want to leave Theodred alone but she had to get more water.
Cadfal hurried to his quarters to fetch his surgical tools, and then paused as he tried to remember if there was extra water in the prince's room. He detoured to the kitchens and requested that several coppers of hot boiled water be delivered to Theodred's chamber, along with additional charcoal for the brazier. Then he headed to fetch his instruments, praying to Bema each step of the way.
Eowyn opened the door to the chamber intending to recruit whoever passed by and was bemused by the approach of several of the kitchen staff, carrying vessels of hot water and a hod of charcoal. "What is this?"
The grizzled man who carried the charcoal nodded to her. "Healer Cadfal requested hot water and charcoal for the brazier, my lady."
Eowyn nodded and returned to Theodred's side as the copper vessels were placed next to the hearth and charcoal was added to the brazier that stood near the bed. The servants were efficient but each of them paused and looked sadly at their unconscious prince and made a bow or other gesture of respect before they left the room.
Cadfal hurried back through the shadowy corridors, ignoring the suspicious looks that the guards near the entrance to the King's chambers gave him as he passed en route back to Theodred's room. He caught up with the last of the servants bringing the hot water and slipped past the youth into the door of the room.
Eowyn recognized the bundle the healer carried tucked under his arm and began lighting more lamps. She swallowed nervously, having never been permitted near when surgery was being performed on either man or horse.
He stopped the old man who'd carried in the charcoal before he left the room. "Fetch me a bundle of clean towels and more straw for the floor. And I need two strong stomached men to hold his highness down." Even as the healer gave the order, he was putting a kettle on the fire to boil the instruments that he took from the roll of leather.
The servant nodded, his eyes widening and he left the room. Eowyn could hear him through the closed door calling for someone named Gaelof and another named Haral before he moved down the hallway. "What are you going to do?"
Cadfal frowned. Theodred looked even more waxen in the increased light though the flush of the fever still burned in his face. "I'm going to try to cut the dead tissue from the wound and hope that it will begin to heal again." He glanced up at Theodred's cousin. "If you would prefer to wait in the great hall..."
Eowyn couldn't help blanching but she swallowed and stiffened her resolve. "No. I won't leave him. How can I help?"
She looked down on her cousin and reminded herself that Theodred had a lady waiting for him to return home. If it were her husband sorely wounded, she'd want whoever was caring for him to do everything humanly possible to save him. She could do no less for Theo's Edlyn.
Late June, T.A. 3018 - Edoras
Theodred was glad to ride into the familiar outer yard of the Edoras royal stables. They'd returned victorious, with minimal losses, and he looked forward to meeting with his father. The memory of the public blessing had carried him through the mission, and he knew he would always treasure it.
He swung down from Brego's back and gathered the reins to lead him into the elaborately carved archway leading into the stables.
Eowyn had escaped the Hall and was working Windfola on a lunge line in the paddock closest to the stables. The mare had bruised her off hind foot on a stone a week or so ago and needed to be gently returned to condition. She halted Windfola from her slow collected trot at the sound of hooves and boots on the pavement in front of the entrance to the stables and turned to see her cousin Theodred leading Brego under the arch.
"Come on, Brego, let's get you brushed down, and then I can go clean up before seeing Father," Theo stroked his stallion's neck as he spoke affectionately to his mount.
"Theodred!" Eowyn called as she gathered up the lunge line and led Windfola to the paddock fence.
The prince halted and turned to see his cousin. "Eowyn! Just a moment." He tapped the arm of one of his men and asked him to have Brego untacked and to begin a brush down. "I'll be there in a few minutes to take care of him."
Once assured that his mount would be cared for, he walked over to the fence. "How are you cousin?"
Eowyn gave her cousin a half-hearted smile. "I am well. Though I'd have been better if I'd been able to ride with you against those invaders."
"I wouldn't have. I'd have been worried about you and been distracted." He closed his eyes momentarily as a memory of the carnage they'd experienced rose up, and then he pushed it back by determined will. "We were fortunate to only have light losses."
"In any case, Windfola isn't ready to ride yet. Bema take that damned stone!"
"What happened to her?" Theo reached across the fence to let Windfola snuffle his palm.
Eowyn sighed. "I went with a small group of Riders to take supplies to one of the villages that the orcs had raided the day after Uncle left for the Gather-Meet, and Windfola put her foot down on a stone. She's going to be all right but it cut and bruised the frog terribly."
"You'd have preferred that your own foot be cut up instead," Theo nodded understandingly. "When Brego caught a slice of an orc's blade last summer, I would have preferred it to have been me!"
"She's only been well enough to work today and I'm spending most of my energy keeping her from doing too much!"
"It won't be long and you both can ride together again. How has it been while we were gone? Were you under much attack here?"
"It's been difficult. It seemed as though the raids were never going to stop. But the odd thing was that they never completely destroyed anything. It was harassment, a hay barn burned down, some pigs slaughtered and carried off. The only losses occurred when the holders tried to fight them off. It's very strange. Orcs just don't act that way." Eowyn paused, "And Uncle..."
"Very strange. I'll speak with Father about it." He missed her added phrase, overriding her as his urgency to get to Theoden to ask permission to wed Edlyn took over. "I need to get back to Brego and get presentable enough to report to the King. I'll speak with you later, cousin!"
Windfola nudged Eowyn's shoulder hard and pushed her towards the center of the paddock, obviously insisting that they'd stood there long enough. Eowyn laughed in spite of her worries. "All right, I'm coming. I'll see you at dinner, Theo."
He beamed at her and headed back into the stables, whistling some tune he'd picked up from Boromir of Gondor some years past.
When Theodred emerged from his quarters, having bathed and dressed in clean clothing, he headed down the corridor to the main Hall. It was likely that his father would be there with the Council at this time of the day. So he was surprised to discover the Hall dark, the shutters over the window closed, and only a torch or two burning near the empty throne. Even the fire in the central hearth was little more than glowing embers.
He paused and considered where else to look for his father, fingering the torque he wore around his neck absently.
"We did not expect to see you in Edoras so soon, my Prince," Grima's oily, unctuous voice emerged from the shadows behind the throne, followed by his dark clad, still-limping form, "else, we would have made sure of a more -- appropriate -- welcome."
Theo drew himself up, lifting his chin as he eyed the advisor he hated with a passion. "My father's welcome is all the ceremony I require. I had expected to find him here, hearing petitions."
"Ah," Grima paused, his dark eyes taking in the dampness of Theodred's hair and the creases in the newly unfolded tunic. "His Majesty is in his study, considering what to do about the recent attacks. Given the seriousness of such incursions, it seemed unnecessary to dog his valuable time with whining petitioners." The counselor's tone seemed to infer that the incursions themselves were Theodred's fault.
"The longer petitions go unanswered, the more difficult it will be to resolve the problems they present. An advisor of your--experience--should recognize that!" Theo snapped, then turned towards the entryway that led to his father's private quarters.
"As if you were here to know, your highness," Grima responded, again intimating that Theodred was lacking.
Theo just increased his pace and strode to the door of his father's study, leaving the still lame counselor well behind. He nodded to the guards who stood on either side of the portal and raised his right hand to knock. The bandage that wrapped his palm, smaller than the original one he'd worn into battle, reminded him that he needed to have the Edoras healer remove the stitches from his hand.
He rapped twice and then twice again, his usual habit.
"Enter!" Theoden's voice was audibly disgruntled.
Theo opened the door and advanced to drop to one knee by Theoden's chair, "We have returned from the Firienwood, Father, and have successfully destroyed those who attacked our wood-halls there." He bowed his head, and waited for the touch to his head that would signal him to rise. The touch did not come.
Instead Theoden glared down at his son. "Ah yes, you were on the eastern border while more and more orcs and wildmen attacked from the west."
Startled, Theo looked up with a puzzled look on his face. Where was the pride and love that had been in the King's voice and face the day they'd left to drive the enemy from the Eastfold? "Father?"
"Where was the protection you are required to provide as Second Marshal? So caught up in glory seeking you are that you left none to stop the influx from the Westfold." Theoden turned away from Theodred and drank deeply from the goblet that stood on the corner of his desk.
"I left five eóreds at Helm's Deep when we came to the Gather-meet and sent a full quarter of my men to protect the dependents when we sent them home. Father, I did as you commanded--"
"I commanded no such thing!" Theoden shouted. "Ever you argue. Ever you think yourself wiser. You think that Theoden should be King no longer and that Theodred-King should sit upon Eorl's seat! Never! I swear to you that I will die before I name you my successor!"
Theodred found his voice frozen in his throat, stunned by the venom and rage in his father's voice. His right hand crept up of it's own accord to the torque that was the public sign of his position as the only son of the King, clutching at it. "No, Father!" he finally choked out, "I wish no such thing!"
The King's hand was shaking as he drank once more from the cup. "Think you me a dotard? Think you me a fool!?" The cup almost spilled as it was replaced and Theoden pointed at the markers that lay upon the map on the table. "I still have eyes and honest councilors. I have the wit to see that which is obvious."
Theo, despite not having received leave, surged to his feet.
"I did not give you leave to rise!" Theoden bellowed.
Theodred's own temper fired, "You are not the man who I left at the Gather-meet! Why did you bless me then if this is what you think of me? Why did you give me hope? Show me love? Where is the trust that made you send me to lead our Riders to succor those in danger at Firienwood?"
"You should have died in her stead. She would have given me other sons; honest, faithful and loving sons. Sons that would not turn upon me like a viper in the tall grass."
Theodred literally staggered. Tears burned in his eyes, tears that he fought back as his father's words sank in. He'd secretly blamed himself for his mother's death--but to hear it outright from his father--from the King...
"I cannot unmake you my son, but you will not be my heir. Another, more worthy shall take that position. Get you from my sight. Get you hence from Edoras and do not return until you are summoned!" Theoden glared at Theodred and sneered. "Summoned to witness the investiture of my Heir!"
It felt like a knife strike to the heart and Theodred whirled, wanting only to escape this nightmare that the Riders' triumphant return had transformed into. He would never forget this moment--pain had etched every detail of the scene into his mind: the smell of the wine in his father's cup, the crackle of the fire in the brazier in the corner of the room, the rich colours of an unfamiliar tapestry on the wall behind the desk... the sound of his father's angry voice and the sight of the King's features twisted with hate. He hesitated, trying to meet his father's eyes, seeking to understand, then turned and left the room as Theoden ignored him, reaching once more for his cup as if he'd just crossed a desert and was dying of thirst.
Grima entered the King's study a few moments later, a stone flask in his hand, and satisfaction in his gaze. The encounter between the King and his son on which he had eavesdropped from the room on the other side of the hanging had gone exactly as he'd hoped. "Let me refill your cup, your Majesty. It is a sad business, a very sad business indeed."
Theodred burst through the door into the corridor and turned towards his own rooms, intent only on grabbing his gear and fleeing for his true home, the Hornburg. He couldn't ask this stranger for permission to marry--he couldn't risk being told 'no'.
"That Worm, he's behind this... he must be..." he muttered as he came into the Hall, where the Riders had gathered in the meantime, the women of the hall serving them ale and soup to tide them over until the evening meal. "Erkenbrand!"
His Lieutenant looked up at the sound of Theo's voice and seeing the Prince's expression rose to his feet. "Yes, your highness?"
"We leave immediately for Helm's Deep. All of us."
Erkenbrand blinked but nodded. "Aye, your highness." And he immediately turned to the men to give the order to find them rising to their feet and stepping away from the tables.
He strode past the fire pit and ignored the startled looks of his men, wanting only a few minutes of privacy to release some of his rage and grief before he had to put on his public mask once more. He made it to his chamber, and shoved the door closed behind him, then dropped to his knees before the cold hearth, his face buried in his hands.
Erkenbrand frowned and debated whether to go after his prince but murmurs among the men decided him. "You heard his highness. Ready your mounts." He followed the last of them out of the Hall and went to the stall where Whitcalc had just settled in with a full manger. "Sorry, lad," he told the disgruntled black stallion as he led him from the box.
Theo rocked back and forth as he fought to gain control over his emotions. "It would have been better had he never come to the Gather-meet," he mourned. "I thought we were reconciled..." He wanted to skewer that advisor, to lay him open from throat to navel, to spill the Worm's blood and make him pay. But the part of his mind that had been reared as the son of a king reminded him that should he do so, his life would be forfeit--even if his father would come out from under the monster's spell.
Eomer had entered the Hall from outside just as Theodred gave the order for his men to prepare for immediate departure, having taken the time to catch up on news with his sister, once he'd stabled Firefoot. Eomer paused before Theodred's closed door, raising his hand to knock but reconsidered and just opened it. He was shocked to see his cousin's condition and closed the door behind him before falling to his knees next to Theodred. "Cousin? What happened?"
"I am--b-banished!" He stuttered over the word. In the past it had been his own choosing to live at Helm's Deep rather than in the courts, but now he had no choice. "He said he cannot unmake me his son but that I will never be his heir!" Theo's face was wet, his expression distraught. "I could not ask him about Edlyn--" He choked on a sob, "I feared he would say 'nay' and I would be committing treason if he'd denied the request and I married her anyway."
"What? Banished?" Eomer could not believe his ears. "But, he blessed you! He showed you such favor at the Gather-Meet!"
"It must be Grima. We were gone and the damned worm poisoned him against me once more."
They were suddenly interrupted by a heavy barrage of knocks on the door. It was shoved open and Grima stood in the doorway, two large Riders, both unfamiliar to Theodred, flanking him. The Advisor looked smug and held a decree in his hand. "By order of Theoden-King, you Theodred, must be without the Courts of Edoras by sunset this day never to return unless summoned by the King. If you fail to do so you will face a traitor's death."
Theodred kept his face turned away from the advisor, damned if he would allow the cretin to see tears on his face.
Eomer shot to his feet, a look of outrage on his face. "You snake! This is your doing!"
Theo grabbed at Eomer's arm and hauled himself to his feet. "Help me repack my belongings, cousin," he said. "You can reassure his majesty that I took no more than was my own property."
Eomer fumed but backed down.
Still without looking towards Grima, Theo added, "There are still two hours until the sunset, Master Wormtongue, I will be on my way faster if you get out of the way."
Grima sniffed and ordered the two Riders to stay and escort the prince from the Courts once he was packed then limped off down the hallway.
Theodred ignored the guards and began to place things in his pack. Most of his clothing needed laundering and was nowhere to be seen. He assumed that his squire had already turned it over to the laundresses. No matter, he had enough in the Hornburg, and they'd be home in three days.
He left a spare cloak in the clothespress, and left the ornate dress robes hanging there.
He finished quickly, only pausing as he placed his hands on the sharpwood box in which the torque he wore was intended to rest. Did he even have a right to keep wearing it now?
Eomer closed his hands over Theodred's. "No, cousin. You remain his son and a prince of Eorl's blood. And your father may yet see reason before the end." Then he reached past him into the press and pulled out the most ornate of the robes. "Take these." He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. "You will need them on your wedding day."
Theo turned his head and looked despairingly into Eomer's eyes. "Do you really believe that he will ever 'see' me again?" He shuddered as a cold chill took him, and he said with sudden certainty, "I will never see love in his eyes for me again, Eomer. I am dead to him." But he did as his cousin bade, and folded the dress robes up around the cedar box, and left the torque around his neck.
Eomer picked up Theodred's hauberk and looked at him with sympathy. "I wish I knew what to tell you, Theo. But if ever you need me send word, and I will come."
The prince nodded, "I will."
Some minutes later, Eomer handed Theodred his helm and lifted the pack. "I'll come with you to the gates."
Theodred straightened his back and looked around his room one last time. He shouldered his way between the guards, holding his back straight and his head up and his face expressionless.
Grima strode forth into the center of the Hall as Theodred and Eomer entered from the side corridor and read out the writ of banishment in his loudest and most compelling voice.
Theodred's face flushed and then went dead pale as the words rang out in the hall. He stepped out faster, as if to outrun them, being forced by the layout of the dinner tables to pass close to the black-clad Grima to get to the main doors.
Grima smiled as he read out the reason for the banishment: "In addition to his failure to fulfill his duty to protect the Courts and their occupants, he has also physically threatened the King's well-being, forcing himself into his Majesty's privy chamber whilst bearing arms!"
Theodred whirled to face Wormtongue, "That is a lie" he hissed. "He bid me to enter!"
Grima merely looked at Theodred and bade the two Riders who were escorting the prince to "assist him to find his way from out of the Hall. The two Riders exchanged glances and the taller of the two reached for Theodred's arm.
Eomer immediately knocked it aside. "Do not touch him. Come, Theodred, the very air grows poisonous in here."
Grima turned his eye on Eomer then. "I would watch myself if I were you, Third Marshal. Treason and treachery are contagious, I am given to understand."
Theodred glared at Grima and cursed him, "May your life be thrice as miserable as those lives around you which you have accursed and may you die unmourned!" He turned towards the door, escorted by his cousin and dragged in a deep breath of the early evening air before heading down the stairs to where Erkenbrand and his eoreds waited, already mounted.
Eowyn stood frozen near the doors, having come in from working with Windfola and looking for her cousin. The words of the writ still ringing in her ears, she was so stunned that she was unable to utter a farewell to her cousin. The doors were slammed behind Theodred and Eomer before she could move. Then she found herself facing Grima.
The Advisor looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on the curve of her waist and hips in the leather schooling breeches she wore. "Your uncle requires your presence, my lady. But I would recommend you change into garments more suitable to one of your sex before you go to him."
Embarrassment, anger and more unidentifiable emotions filled her and she fled the Hall, not daring to say the words that now trembled on her lips.
Theodred took the pack from Eomer and fastened it to the back of the saddle before turning to his cousin. Shielded by the horses, he let Eomer see the sadness in his eyes.
"I've checked his girth, your highness. We are ready to depart at your word." Erkenbrand said quietly. The word of what happened in the Hall had been passed faster than breath to those outside. By the time they reached the gates the news of Theodred's banishment and disgrace would likely be halfway to the Wold.
"I know not when we will see each other again, cousin, but I will send you word of when the wedding will be. I hope--I hope you will be able to come."
Eomer gripped Theodred's arm and nodded. "I will be there, cousin. You have my sworn word. And I promise to send word to your shield brother."
He clasped Eomer's hand in a warrior's grip. "Do not let him drive you away. I trust you to do what you can to watch over my father. Tell Eowyn the truth of this."
"I shall. Do you want me to tell her of Edlyn?"
He shook his head. "No. I do not wish for more to know of this until it is done and dusted. She will forgive me... " he gave a sad, wry smile, "…eventually."
"Aye. Westu hal, Theodred-Prince." Eomer stepped back and allowed his cousin to mount.
"Farewell, Eomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark." Theo pulled himself up into the saddle, took his reins from Erkenbrand, and gave Brego his office, leading the Helm's Deep Riders from Edoras as the sun neared the western horizon, painting the scattered clouds above with salmon and orange fire.
July, T.A. 3018 - Helm's Deep
The days since Theodred and the other Rider's returned to the Hornburg had been a full of a peculiar mix of joy and sadness. The Second Marshal hadn't hidden the fact that he'd been banished from the Courts at Edoras and he'd even offered to allow any Rider who wished to move to the eóreds of another, undisgraced, marshal to do so. Not a single Rider took him up on it. The joy was due to the fact that the betrothal of the prince and the Lady Edlyn was at last to be celebrated.
Edlyn herself was frustrated in that it seemed every time she tried to do something, the task was taken from her hands and she was shooed off to "prepare for her wedding day." She was even barred from the stables save to get Gyldenides to go for short, and now heavily escorted, rides.
Theodred was in the stables, checking Brego's tack after returning from a short patrol. An orc had taken a slice at the girth before Theo had taken its head off and he wanted to be sure to replace it if necessary.
Edlyn opened the door to the barn where Brego and Gyldenides were stabled, her hands full of store apples and a few carrots. She wanted more than anything to be able to do something, especially now that she'd finished making a favour for Theodred as her wedding gift for him. She'd found his bloodied dress tunic when they packed up the camp and tucked it into her pack. There was enough unstained fabric to use for the purpose and it was now folded carefully in her mother's sharpwood chest, waiting for the day of the wedding.
Theo was whistling as he worked the saddle soap over the tack, relieved to find that the leather, like Brego's ribs, was undamaged. He laughed as Brego leaned over the stall door and nibbled the prince's hair. "Cut it out, Brego, I don't think Edlyn wants me to have green hair."
"Definitely, not! Be good Brego, or you shan't have any treats," Edlyn said as she came down the wide corridor between the lines of stalls.
Trapped by the saddle braced across his thighs, Theo could not rise to greet her. "Hello, love." He tipped his face up to her and smiled tiredly. "Did your father send you to drag me back to my duty?"
"No, Frea kicked me out of the kitchens again, and Frideswithe won't let me into the cloth room, and well... " She shrugged and dropped to sit beside him, the fruit falling into her lap. "I missed you."
She leaned up and kissed his cheek as Brego reached down to snag one of the apples from her lap.
"I missed you. I miss you even if we are parted for a half an hour." He chuckled at Brego's antics and then turned his head to kiss her properly.
An insistent hoof kicking at the door to Gyldenides' box brought Edlyn back to the present. The mare couldn't quite reach the apples and carrots and had decided to make her opinion on the matter known.
"I suppose I'd better share these out so that we won't be disturbed."
"I can't guarantee we won't be disturbed... it seems that any time you and I have had a moment together, someone always interrupts us."
"I know. They're doing it on purpose. But then they won't let me do anything!" Edlyn split the fruit equally and fed it to the two horses, laughing as her apron ended up covered with slobber and bits of carrot and apple. "And Heremod insisted that a dozen Riders accompany me on my morning ride while you were gone! And Heornlaf agreed with him!"
He resumed polishing the saddle. "I'm afraid that was my fault. I had mentioned to him before the last few patrols that I knew you would want to ride in my absence but that I'd prefer you be accompanied. I'd thought of just one or two riders, not an entire squad." He glanced up at her. "I'll speak to him and clarify things."
"Oh." She wiped her hands on her apron and sat back down. "No, you don't need to. He's just doing what he thinks is necessary. And I know there's been a lot more raids lately. Honestly, I was really surprised that you said that I could still ride out past the dike, before you left."
"I trust your good judgment in what is safe and what is not. I know that you listen to the reports of enemy activity and are smart enough not to risk yourself and Gyldenides."
"Thank you."
It was nice just sitting quietly next to Theo; especially after all the fuss and bother the ladies of the keep were making about the wedding preparations. It wasn't as though they had to make her a wedding gown in less than a week. She was going to be wearing her mother's gown, the one she'd worn for the betrothal ceremony. And she wasn't traveling miles away to a new holding and needing to take a household's worth of furniture and furnishings with her.
Theo finished up the saddle and scrambled to his feet to settle it on its rack.
Edlyn looked up at him. Her betrothed was really an incredibly handsome man, his chestnut hair (a gift from his maternal grandmother she remembered Frideswithe once saying) flowing softly down his back, as glossy as Brego's coat. And his eyes. She could lose herself in his eyes forever.
He took the bridle from the peg and resumed his seat, keeping his fingers busy as he enjoyed the warmth of his bride to be by his side.
"Edlyn, if we were not at war, and could do anything we wanted, what would you like to do?" he suddenly asked.
Startled at the unexpected question, she looked up into his face. "Anything? Anything at all?"
He smiled at her. "Anything."
"I'd like to travel round, just you and me and Brego and Gyldenides and see the wide world and talk to people and not have to worry about whether you, or father, or Deor or Ceorlaf were going to come home safely. I'd like to travel to your shield brother's city and to the sea..."
"The sea. I've never seen the sea. Boromir has told me of it. He visited his uncle in Dol Amroth during the summers as a child. I'd always hoped to be able to travel there and to see their stud farms where they breed their grey warhorses."
"And we could bring a few back for your breeding program," Edlyn said teasingly.
"Their greys are dappled like fish scales, did you know?"
"Really? How odd." She considered it for a moment. "I wonder how they managed that? It's not a usual pattern."
He glanced at her sidewise, "There's a story about how they got that way. My shield brother told me once when I visited him taking the tribute herd to Minas Tirith."
"Tell me, please."
He nestled against her side, his hands automatically working on the leather, and began the tale.
At one time there was a Man who had a Horse. Not a grand Horse like a Mearas, but still a good, useful Horse that did his work honestly and did his best for his Master. The years went by and the horse grew old, and as usually happens he couldn't gallop as quickly or carry as much as he used to. His Master had also grown older and grumpier, and unfortunately, poorer.
So one day the Man came to his Horse and said, "You are too old to work, and I can't afford to maintain you. So you can't stay here any longer." And the man sent the Horse away into the open country between the Green Hills and the Sea to make his own way.
The Horse walked for days but could find no one who wanted to take him in. He was too weak, too unsteady, the people he spoke to said. He was too old. The land was cultivated with little free pasturage and he had too good manners and was too well trained to too eat from the crop fields. So as he walked he grew hungrier and tireder. He walked and walked until he reached the Sea and then he stopped and stared because he had never before seen anything so vast and beautiful.
But he heard a sound that drew his attention away from the sight. It sounded like someone crying. Curious, the Horse searched along the seashore until he found a Mermaid that had been washed up upon the shore. There must have been a great storm to have brought one of the Merfolk to such a sad pass for the poor thing was battered and bruised and a great fishing net had tangled itself about her.
"Please help me. I will die if I cannot return to the Sea" the Mermaid begged.
Now the Horse could see that there was no way for the mermaid to return to the sea by herself and after some thought used his still strong teeth to chew away at the net. It took much time and the Horse grew terribly thirsty because of the salt that encrusted the ropes. But he persevered and eventually the mermaid was free of the net.
"Oh, thank you," the Mermaid said. She stretched out her bruised and scratched arms then threw them about the old Horse's neck and kissed him in gratitude. "If you would be so kind as to carry me to the water, I would appreciate it greatly."
The Horse walked slowly towards the water, pulling the mermaid, who kept her arms about his neck, with him. It was more difficult than it ought to have been, he thought. But he was an old Horse, his coat long since turned dull grey from glossy black it had been when he was a young horse, and he was hungry and thirsty which weakened him further. But he continued on until he stood hock deep in the surf and the Mermaid was able to enter the water of her home. She laughed and called thank you and disappeared under the waves and the Horse stood in the surf utterly exhausted, looking out to where she had disappeared.
Suddenly, something rose from the water and the Horse found himself looking at the Lord of the Oceans himself. The Mermaid was one dear to Lord Ulmo and now he looked upon his subject's rescuer with gratitude.
"What gift may I give you in thanks for the rescue of my dear one?" Lord Ulmo asked. "Riches? Pearls? Gold?" The Horse shook his head and answered, "Nay, my Lord. I should only like a warm stable, fresh hay, and good corn to eat, and sweet water to drink. I am only an old Horse and have no need of those other things."
"Very well. You shall have all you desire." And the Lord of the Seas raised his hand and the old horse found his eyes closing and his mind slipping into darkness.
The next morning as the son rose, the Horse awakened to find himself on the beach, feeling stronger than he'd felt in years. "Why I feel as though I could carry a Knight in full armor all day and not get tired!" He scrambled to his feet, and then heard the shouting of men.
He started trotting down the beach in the direction of the voices, and it was so easy! His joints didn't ache and before he knew it he found himself galloping along the sand. The morning sunlight was warm on his coat and the wind in his mane felt better than anything he could remember.
Then all of a sudden he came upon the men he'd heard. They weren't Fishermen but Knights! And they all looked on him with wonder; for the Sea Lord had granted the horse his wish by making him young again. But the touch of the Sea Lord had left its mark."
"For the Horse's coat was not the black of his long ago youth, it was a silver-grey unlike any before seen, dappled like fish scales."
The fairest of the Knights took the horse into his Keep where he lived till the end of his days in the dry warm stable, eating fresh hay and good corn, and drinking sweet water. The Horse was happy, glad to be useful to his new Master, for his new Master was none other than the first Prince of Dol Amroth, who made the Horse his own warsteed, which was the first of the famous grey horses of that land.
Edlyn smiled with delight as Theo ended the tale. "Oh, that is such a lovely story. You'll have to tell it to our children one day."
Theo smiled, the words 'our children' making him feel warm inside. "I can hardly wait. Edlyn." He sobered suddenly and set down the bridle and polishing cloth. "I hope that I am able to be a good father. I worry that I do not know how."
"You'll be a marvelous father, I know it. You are so loving and..." she paused a moment before continuing. "...you'll know what not to do."
Theo slid his near arm around behind Edlyn and pulled her into his embrace, burying his face in her hair. "He hurt me so much, Edlyn, blessing me and then banishing me mere weeks later."
Suddenly, one of Heornlaf's guards opened the door of the barn, an expression of relief on his face when he saw that the prince was there. "My lord, Heornlaf bade me to tell you that a small group of Riders have passed the Dike, bearing the standard of your cousin, Eomer."
Edlyn's reply was cut off by the announcement.
She longed to be able to comfort him, to show him that even if his father didn't love him as he ought, she did and nothing would ever, ever change that.
"Eomer? I had thought he wasn't going to be able to come." Theo scrambled to his feet and helped Edlyn to get up, even as he hooked the cleaned bridle on the peg.
Edlyn grinned and her somber earlier somber thoughts fled. Her brothers Deor and Ceorlaf had finally done something right, getting to the Third Marshal with the wedding information and then returning with the false message that Edlyn had set up via a private note to Eomer. She'd wanted to give Theo a happy surprise after all the heartache of the past few weeks.
She glanced down at her apron and hastily untied it. Between the attentions of Gyldenides and Brego it wasn't fit to be seen. She hung it on the bridle hook and grinned at Theo. "I'll come back for it later, I promise!"
He grinned and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and headed from the stables towards the main gates, then paused suddenly. "My hair--he reached up, remembering Brego's nibbling.
"It's fine. Not a speck of green to be seen. Nor any straw!"
When they emerged from the stable into the warm summer sunlight, Edlyn saw Frea standing on the steps leading to the Hall. The older woman gave her a look that said volumes when she saw that Edlyn and Theo had been sharing company but stayed where she was. Edlyn couldn't help sighing. Some of these wedding customs were far too bothersome to be borne!
Heornlaf was standing by the still closed gate when they got there. "Open the gate, Heornlaf," Theo commanded, practically beaming in anticipation of seeing his cousin.
Heornlaf smiled at his prince and gestured to the men who had the duty. The great gates opened and shortly Eomer rode in with a troop of thirty men and a tall broad shouldered man on a distinctive roan, who though as blond as any Rohirrim, was obviously from out-kingdom.
"Ori!" Theodred gasped. Without thought, he dropped Edlyn's hand and sprang forward to stand at Boromir's stirrup, reaching up for his shield brother. "I prayed, but never dreamed... Ori!"
Boromir grinned down at Theodred and clasped hands with his shieldbrother. "Now, why would you think I'd miss something as important as your wedding?"
Edlyn smiled at Eomer, who looked exceedingly smug and mouthed a silent "Thank you!" The Third Marshal smiled back and nodded before booting Theo's shoulder. "Let the man dismount, cousin! The miles are long from the Mundburg!"
Boromir released Theo's hand as Fedranth, feeling that far too little attention was being paid to his august self, gave a little buck.
Ori sighed, clouted the big roan affectionately on the neck and hissed, "Stop that you big Dunce!"
Theodred reached for the roan's bridle, "Brego has shown you up, Fedi. He didn't give me green hair." He fished out a bit of sugarloaf from his pocket and fed it to the war horse. "Come on, let Ori down and we'll set you up near your brother."
Ori laughed and dismounted. "I'd better take him. There's no point in having any of your stable lads terrorized this early in my stay."
Edlyn saw Frea gesturing for her to join her on the steps but ignored her, crossing the flagstones to stand next to Theo as he handed the reins back over to Boromir.
"Wait a moment, Ori. I'd like you to meet Edlyn." Theodred turned to her and extended his free hand.
Edlyn was more than happy to see that the sparkle was back was in Theodred's eyes and willingly smiled up at the man who had put it there. She made a half-curtsey and slid her arm around Theo's waist as Theo announced, "Lord Boromir of Hurin, Son of the Ruling Steward of Gondor, may I present Lady Edlyn Erkenbrandsdottir, my betrothed?"
TBC
TBC