A/N: This was once writen as a story within a story, but it belongs to the story of the first chapter. I have mostly used information from UT for this poem. And though I have not written anything more of Eorl, I have the feeling that I need to do one more. I can not promise that it will be finished anythime soon though. I do not yet have any idea of the theme for that last story, and alliteration is anoyingly time-consumingto write.
Some information that may be usefull. I have for the most part used the Rohirric names, as this is thought to be composed and told by a bard form the Mark though sometimes I have used whatever name suited the meter best. But since this story might not be very well known (being mostly from UT) and maybe not all Rohirric names are known, I have made a list of names and translations. (All information to make this list is taken from the appendixes in LotR or from UT.)
Mundburg - Minas Tirith
Stoningland - Gondor
Cririon (pronounced Kirion)- 12th Ruling Steward of Gondor.
Borondir Udalraph (the Stirrupless) - mesenger from Cirion. What name I use is dictated by the meter.
The Éothéod (OE: horse-people) - the forefathers of the Eorlingas (or Rohhirrim, depening on which language you use)
The Undeeps - the two westward bends of Anduin
The Limlight - the river that is now the north-border of Rohan
The Mark /Rittermark - Rohan (most of you know this I think)
éoherë (OE: horse-host) - the full muster of the cavalry
I hope you will enjoy, and would be very happy to hear what you think.
Disclaimer: Never mine.
The Ride of Eorl
Horselords, listen to the legend of our people,
Silence your speech, to my story give ear.
I will tell a tale of Eorl the Young
The lord the first led us to our land.
Far south in the white city of stone
Sat the worthy lord in war-troubled thought.
The Steward of the stonemen counsel sought;
Wisdom to win victory in war.
No kin nor kindred had they close
And enemies all around drew near.
Then Mundburg's master turned his mind
To the Northern men for help in need,
Spoke Cirion: "Who will work his lord's will
And find friends in far lands?
Who will ride the wild roads
And on paths of peril pass?
Who will seek the horselord's halls
And bring help from the North in dire need?"
"I will seek the horselord's halls,
on the wild roads I will ride.
I will pass on perilous paths
And find friends in far lands.
Help from the North in need I'll bring;
I will do my lord's will."
So Borondir the Stirrupless spoke
And sought the task so the tale tells,
The first to speak, but five followed after;
Six riders choose Cirion to seek their north kin.
Two by two they travelled together,
Two by two they went on their way.
Two to pass the perilous paths,
Two to ride the wild roads
To find help from friends afar.
Never resting, ever running
Forth the fast riders flew
To Mundburg's aid each man was bound.
First left Borondir with his bold companion,
They followed the Longflood's lead at first.
The following four fared to unknown fate;
No tidings ever told of their bitter end.
Six rode out, only one came through
To the horsemaster's hall with message in haste;
The Udalraph after dangerous days
Came to Eorl the Young with Cirion's message.
Fifteen days through dangers fell
He had travelled to tell of the White Tower's need.
To the Gladden Fields from Dol Guldur
Where his friend fell, he flew,
Then up the river alone he rode.
Northwards Mundburg's messenger rode,
Waylaid by villains he lost his way
And long he roamed in lonely lands.
Hard did the rider of the last hope toil,
Picking his path through perils fell.
Never resting, ever running
Forth the fast riders flew
To Mundburg's aid each man was bound.
When he arrived after his long race
He'd not tasted food for two long days;
He was so spent he could scarce speak
His urgent message to the Éothéod's young lord.
Food was fetched for the starved stranger;
Bread brought to the bold man;
And water given to the weary wanderer
To quench the thirst of his troubled throat.
But Borondir refused the offered food
Would take only water to wet his throat
Before Mundburg's message he could pronounce.
Spoke the Stirrupless: "Master of steeds,
Young Eorl son of Leód, Éothéod's lord.
The Steward of the Stoneland has sent me
To bear a message from Mundburg's master
And ask for aid in our need.
The Wainriders will soon find the way to our walls;
Our foes, bringing with them fire and flame.
A great gathering of Gondor's foes
Will bring dark destruction to the white city.
This counsel Cirion took; to seek our north-kin
And ask help from friends in far lands."
Eorl sat silent when the message was spoken
And pondered in thought what path he should take.
Quickly deciding what deed he would do
He rested his eyes on Borondir as he rose.
Quote Eorl. "I will come to Cirion's aid.
If the Mundburg falls, whither shall we flee
From the gathering Darkness in days to come?"
And as a token of his pledge he took Borondir's hand.
At once Eorl called his Elders to him
And swiftly summons were sent throughout the land.
He mustered his men to Mundburg's aid
And gathered his Riders for the great ride.
Few were left to fend for the land;
Seven thousand, fully-armed, says the song,
With helm and hauberk and war-horses strong,
And hundreds of horsed archers besides
In the éoherë that Eorl lead out were counted.
In silence they left, leaving fear behind,
No words were spoken nor songs sung.
The women watched their mounted men
Ride to unknown end unafraid.
Never resting, ever running
Forth the fast riders flew
To Mundburg's aid each man was bound.
Borondir Udalraph rode at Eorl's right hand;
The Stirrupless would serve as steersman for the lord
Since he had passed lately though the perilous lands,
But all that saw the strength and splendour of the host
Fled from its path in fear for its might.
Unbarred they came below the great Blight,
To southern Mirkwood, by no sign of men,
Nor spies or scouting parties could they see.
Borondir marvelled that the Balchoth bared not
Their road, or spied to report of their ride.
unknown to the Riders was the reason
That their coming was secret and their host hidden.
Never resting, ever running
Forth the fast riders flew
To Mundburg's aid each man was bound.
They drew near Dol Guldur where darkness lay.
Eorl turned westward away from the wood;
Fearing the gloom that flowed from the fort
He rode near the river and the Riders followed.
On the far side the dangerous land of Dwimordene lay,
The gleaming grove that in tales were told
To shine like gold when spring was near.
But a shining mist shrouded the myth-spun place,
Passing over the flood it flowed before them.
Alarmed they stopped, but Eorl spoke to them:
"Ride on! Ride on, no other road
May take us to Mundburg; shall a river-mist
Hold us back from battle and bar our way?"
On rode the Riders, approaching the mist
And drawing near they saw it drove back the dark,
The gloom of Dol Guldur gave way before it.
Riding slowly they soon was surrounded
By the white mist, and was weary at first.
Under its canopy a clear light lit
Their way with a shadowless light while
On all sides they were guarded by with walls of secrecy.
"It seems the Lady of the Golden Wood is on our side," Borondir said.
"That may be," answered Eorl. "But at least I will trust
The wisdom of Felaróf; he feels no evil.
His heart is high, and his weariness healed:
See how he strains to be given his head. So be it!
More need for secrecy and speed I have never had."
Forward sprang Felaróf and the host followed after,
Like a great wind on their way they went,
But a strange silence over them came,
As if the horses'; hooves did not hit the ground.
Beating feet and breaking branches was not heard;
A hush on the host and their horses fell.
On they rode, fresh and eager as the morning they set forth
Never resting, ever running
Forth the fast riders flew
To Mundburg's aid each man was bound.
In the dew at the dawning of the third day
The Riders rose from their rest by the river
And saw that suddenly the shining mist was gone.
The leagues open lands lay before them,
The Undeeps were in sight and the Anduin near;
Speed beyond all hope hath brought them there
On the ninth day since they left their Northern lands.
Over the Undeeps Eorl rode
With his host in haste to help the Stoningland.
He sent out scouts to seek news of the land
And they brought back tidings of battle and war.
"My Lord, the land rings with rumour of war.
Cirion is hard pressed on Celebrant's fields.
Mundburg fights bravely but the battle is lost
Unless we can come quickly with aid."
"We will come," said Eorl. "When we find a way.
Is there a path our horses can pass?"
"I know not," the scout said. Spoke Borondir "I do!
Follow my lead over flood and field."
Battle-eager men Borondir Undalraph brought
From the North with aid in dire need.
Swords and spears to slaughter they bore
And bowmen to battle and war they brought.
Over the Limlight the lord led the men
And came at length to Celebrant's Fields.
Never resting, ever running
Forth the fast riders flew
To Mundburg's aid each man was bound.
Fiercely against their foes fought Mundburg's men
But greatly outnumbered was Gondor's lord
And the tide was turned against him;
The victory of the Wainriders seemed certain.
When amidst ruin and red blood and the swords' ringing
A horn was heard from the hills calling;
Eorl the Young had come with aid.
Rank upon rank with Riders there were,
Like a storm the steeds came, stamping their hooves
In waves upon waves against the Wainriders' ranks
The Éothéod with bright swords broke into battle.
The voice of Eorl was heard over the war-din
His battle-cry clear over the clashing shields
Urging his men to battle bravely
And they sang as they slew the fleeing foes.
The Stirrupless stormed to the Steward's aid,
Crossing the Limlight he cleaved a path to Cirion,
Hewing the helms and hauberks of his foes.
Fighting on the Field he fell defending his lord
His death mourned in Mundburg and the Mark ever after.
Never resting, ever running
Forth the fast riders flew
To Mundburg's aid each man was bound.
Thus came Eorl to Cirion at Celebrant Field
And the Ride of the Rohirim is renowned in song.
Between Eorl and Cirion was there ever friendship
And to Eorl Mundburg's Master gave The Mark
That the Horselords should hold the land forever;
In friendship freely given and freely received,
The land whence the Éothéod were led by their Lord,
And Rohan, the Rittermark, has after been the Riders' home.
Resume your speech; my story is done,
The words woven and the tale-tread spun.
My tale has told of Eorl the Young
And how that lord led us to our land.