The Wild Westfold
By: Lauthica Green Clinkenbeard
Chapter Five: The Westfold
We had no time to grieve. After emotions died down and we had shed all of our tears I was able to round up the household. I explained the details of the incident in Edoras. King Théoden had passed his judgment and I did not stick around to learn otherwise. I could not imagine my mother in anymore pain if the Rohhirum came to take me back to Meduseld. My brother came up with the idea to leave the East Emnet and forsake our family name and identities. We hastened to pack only our most precious mementos and necessities. If Théoden had sent a party to retrieve me they would be upon us within light of the next day. We left our town. We left our house empty. We headed toward the Westfold where my mother's parents resided with a little farm. I hoped that a change in scenery would help my mother's condition. I made a promise to myself to try and keep her way of life as consistent as possible and take on the role of a servant to her. All our servants were left behind with no notice, no wage, and no promise to ever return. We no longer existed.
The work was hard. I wasn't used to getting my hands dirty. I broke off all of my long fingernails and my once pampered hands became as hard and dry as the strongest leather armor. I cut off half the length of my hair to keep it out of my eyes. My days were early. First, I had all of my chores on my grandparent's farm. Then I had to tend to my mother and the others of the house. I went from sleeping on a feather bed with cottons and silks to sleeping in a loft of a barn on a scratchy, straw pallet. My wounds never fully closed. I would forever have the sprawling scar on my back and shoulder. The scar of the gash on my cheek reached from the corner of my right eye almost down to my lips. My mother grew thin and lethargic. Soon she wouldn't rise from bed altogether and seldom took company or meals. Our old life faded into a dream of past nights.
My brother was the first born son, and thus lived a spoiled life of getting all he ever desired and more. He did not adjust well to our new circumstances. He could not stand to watch our mother wither away either. He joined the local branch of the Rohhirum taking the name of our old stable hand, Metathain. He returned to us that winter on a cart wrapped and ready for the grave. His dagger was now my dagger.
The passing of my brother claimed my mother's life within a month and she was soon lain next to him in the sprawling plains of the Westfold. I left my grandparent's house. They disliked me and scorned me anyway. It would have only been a matter of time before they would have thrown me out anyway. There was nothing left for me. I was alone.
I traveled further west across the plains nearer the White Mountains in the Westfold. I found a position for work in the house of a noble military veteran as a maid. I took on the name Drega to hide my true identity. It was hard and degrading for the first few months. I watched the family I served live my old life. The family, however, was very kind. I felt more at home and wanted there than I ever did in my old life. I remained a servant with the family until shortly after my twenty-fourth year. This was when fate decided to test me again.
Rohan has always had to defend its borders since its founding years ago but something new was stirring up in The Gap. Whispers spread across the land like wildfire of strange new orc-like creatures called Uruk-Hai that could move quickly in sunlight. The number of regular orcs in the lands also increased. People talked of the White Wizard of Isengard forsaking all that was green and good and turning to metal and destruction. No one really took it seriously. Why would they? We were Rohan. We cared little for the affairs of the world. The whispered quickly became screams.
The town I lived in was large, and was right next to a large glistening lake, but the water of the lake was very precious to the irrigation system of the farmer's fields. Rain came in Rohan seldom, and so when water was needed for drinking, cooking, or laundry one had to walk up a small but steep trail through the foothills of the White Mountains to the river. I went out to the barn and took the big bucket from its hook on the wall. I was happy about one thing. I may not have as much free time as I would like but the work kept me strong and my muscles defined. As I was making my way to the river an acquaintance of mine noticed me as I passed her house.
"Off to the river Drega?" she asked as she threw a bale of hay into the small fence around her stable.
"Yes. It's laundry day." I said smiling at her.
"I could use a break from all this. Would you mind if I tagged along?" she asked setting her pitchfork against the fence.
"Not at all, I haven't spoken with you in a few days." I said.
"Give me a moment." She said taking off her apron. She hung it on the pitchfork and then went into her house. She kept the door open. "Eothain! I'll be back in a moment. Keep an eye on your sister." She called out and she came back out into the yard with her cloak in her hands. She draped it over her and we set off toward the river.
Morwen was as much of an embodiment of the true woman of Rohan as anyone. She was tall and broad. She had long hair the colour of rust, much like Hama, and was as brave and proud as any man. Her husband was a captain in the local branch of the Rohhirum. She had a slightly higher social status than I, but way out here on the edges of the border social status meant nothing. Her cloak was made of very fine green wool and she fastened it with a golden brooch. She wasn't ugly, but she wasn't beautiful either. She was Morwen and it was she who noticed the smoke first as we trekked through the rocky path and reached the top of the valley hill overlooking the river.
"Drega!" she exclaimed grabbing hold of my arm in alarm. I looked at her and then followed her gaze and gasped. The small village across the river was aflame. Hoards of Uruk-Hai and wildmen were running around the perimeter of the village with torches and axes. We watched in horror as men, women, and children fled in all directions and the Uruks and wildmen killed many in cold blood.
"We must hurry back into town and warn everyone." I said looking back at Morwen.
"No!" she exclaimed. "You head to the center of town and tell the outpost to ring the bell. I must get home. My children!" she exclaimed gripping my arm. I nodded at her.
"Go." I told her as calmly as I could. She took off back to town toward her house. I dropped the bucket where I stood and ran as fast as I could toward the watch tower at the outpost.
One of the guards who knew me saw my haste and climbed down the ladder quickly to meet me.
"What is it, Drega?" he asked.
"The village…..burns, Grimwast." I said between catching my breath. He looked behind me and saw smoke rising in the distance. The Uruks were closing in on the town.
"Drega, go to my father's stable and help yourself to a horse and flee." He said. Grimwast had an affection for me that I have long known but never acted upon.
"I cannot abandon my house and lord." I said. "You ring the warning bell and help as many as you can escape. I will return home and help my charges." I said. He did not look happy with my command but he nodded and hurried back up the ladder. I lifted the hem of my brown, wool gown and ran as fast as I could. I heard the warning bell ring and vibrate through my back as I ran. I must hurry!
When I reached the front door to the house of my lord I was relieved to find him sitting in his chair by the fireplace.
"Lord Mekastre, Uruks come to burn the town and kill the people. We must act quickly." I said. He gave me a funny look as my words soaked in.
"I'll fetch my family. We shall ride east with horse speed." He said standing up. He grabbed his old sword off of the wall above the fireplace and fastened it to his belt. "I want you to find as many of the servants as you can and tell them that they are released of their contracts and to flee as quickly as they can." He said placing a hand on my shoulder. "You are a loyal and dependable servant as I have ever seen. You are released as well, but take this." He said and he placed a small pouch in my hands. "War is upon us and where there is war, we are all equal." He said and he hurried down a hall.
I looked down at the pouch. I spared a few precious seconds to open it and gasped. It was full of gold coins. I wanted to thank him, but there was no time. I secured the little pouch in my pocket and then hurried through the rest of the house.
I found the other three servants in the kitchen and told them to get out of the town, ride like the wind, and never look back. I made sure they were out of the house before I went to my room in the servant's quarters. I wrapped up my few possessions, my dagger, a bit of food, and the pouch in my pocket. I fled out the back door and ran down the road. I looked over my shoulder. The smoke was getting closer.
"Drega!"
I stopped and turned around. It was Morwen. I hurried over to her stable.
"What is it?" I asked.
"You are on foot? Do you not have a horse?" she asked.
"I would rather the horses go to those with weaker legs. I will be fine. I will flee into the rocks." I said.
A look of great thought came upon her face. She looked into her stables and then looked back at me. "Come quickly." She said taking my hand. She led me into the stables and grabbed a huge, young stud. He was a magnificent creature with brown hair that gleamed red in the sunlight.
"I will hold onto him while you saddle him." She asked. I did as she said moving as quickly as I could. I followed her out to the fence around her stable. She handed the bridle of the horse to her only servant. She tightened a few straps on the saddle and then reached out toward the backdoor of her house.
"Eothain! Eothain!" She called out. Her young boy came running from their house with a small satchel. Following on his heels was her small daughter. A soon as Eothain met his mother's outstretched hand she helped him onto the horse. "You take your sister. You'll go faster with just two." She had just gotten Eothain on the horse and reached for the girl.
"Papa says Eothain must not ride Garulf." She said as Morwen lifted the small girl on the horse. "He is too big for him!" the girl continued.
"Listen to me." Morwen said. "You must ride to Edoras and raise the alarm. Do you understand me?" she said double checking to make sure the children were secure on the horse.
"Yes, Mama." Eothain said proudly and calmly. He was a loyal boy. The girl began to cry hysterically and leaned toward her mother.
"I don't want to leave. I don't want to go!" she cried. Morwen reached up and cradled the child's face gently.
"Freda, I will find you there." She said kissing Freda's cheek. A scream came from the gate of the town and both Morwen and I looked around the horse. The Uruks were upon the gate. She hurried back to her children's side. "Quickly!" she yelled as she shoved the rear of the horse to flee. I stood there a few feet from her as she watched Eothain and Freda join the herd of horses with others escaping the town.
"Go child…." She whispered trying to keep her emotions in check.
"Morwen, we have to leave. Now!" I said breaking her from her trance.
"Yes!" she said and she hurried into the stables. She got out her other, older mare. "You are much lighter than me. Forget a saddle and flee." She said handing the bridle of the horse to me.
"What?" I exclaimed. "No! Ride with me! You promised your children!" I said trying to hand the horse back.
"I will be fine. I will make my way to Helm's Deep. My husband is stationed there. Then I will head toward Edoras." She said cradling my face much like she did Freda.
"Then I will ride at full gallop to Edoras and keep both of my eyes on Eothain and Freda." I said. Morwen finally let her tears flow and she embraced me.
"Bless you, Drega! I could not have asked for a better friend." she said and she ran back into her house. I mounted the horse quickly and followed the last of the escapees down the east road.