In An Age Before – Part 302

Later that night, Helluin descended a flight of stairs and walked into a low stone chamber only to discover that the royal weapon hoard had been well 'nigh picked clean. A few shields hung from hooks and a few coats of mail and some plate were draped o'er armor stands along opposite walls. On the heavy plank table in the center lay an iron cap and a set of mail chausses in need of repair. A crate on the floor held a few sheathed swords and another held a half-dozen short-hafted, single-bladed axes. The spear rack at the rear of Meduseld's armory stood empty.

Helluin found exactly three bundles of a hundred arrows each on a low shelf. On a rack above them hung five recurved bows to fit the arrows, sized for mounted archery. A couple empty quivers dangled beside them. In a small wooden box beside the bundles of arrows, she found a dozen bowstrings of waxed horsehair and a few lumps of beeswax.

The Noldo observed that, like the arrows she had culled from the quivers of fallen Riders during their defense of the wagons, these were three inches too short for her steel bow. She took a bow from the rack at random, strung it, and then drew, feeling roughly forty-five pounds of resistance. Her own bow, short-drawn for the arrows, would still offer 'nigh eighty pounds of draw weight rather than its usual hundred plus, and so she unstrung the Rohirrim bow and set it back on the rack.

From a worn and discarded cloak, she cut a strip of heavy wool, joined the ends, and tied them together with one end of a thong. With the other end, she tied closed one long side creating a crude but voluminous quiver that she could hang cross-body against her right hip from her left shoulder. Into it, she emptied two bundles of arrows. The arrangement proved heavy, bulky, and awkward, but t'would hold far more than any standard quiver. She picked up a couple bows, several replacement strings, two quivers, and the last bundle of arrows and then left the weapon hoard, climbing the stairs back up to the hall.

It took her a while to find Princess Heorte and Agrona Hallamsdóttir, for they had left Meduseld and were spreading word of Haleth's order to evacuate the city. The princess was engaged in explaining their plan to the cluster of family heads gathered before her, but Agrona was only keeping watch o'er her amongst friends and so the Noldo spoke with her instead.

"I fear that battle shall come to Edoras and the evacuation may be pursued after. Art thou and the lady practiced with the bow?"

The Shieldmaiden looked askance at Helluin's big 'bag of arrows', then actually chuckled and said, "Aye, she more than me, believe it or no. Heorte practiced long at archery when her brothers were reluctant to train with her at swords. I learnt the spear, sword, and shield from my father, but less of the bow. Still, I can hit my mark if but twice in three draws."

Helluin nodded, for two strikes from three draws would equal what she had seen from the Riders in combat on the road. She handed the bows, quivers, extra strings, and bundle of arrows to Agrona, saying, "Pray take these. They are the last in the hoard and may save lives."

Agrona nodded to her and accepted the weapons gladly. She would use arrows, swords, spears, axes, or her fists and teeth to protect the princess.

"I see thou intend some shooting thyself," she said, tilting her head to Helluin's sack of arrows and the quiver on her back. The Noldo nodded solemnly.

"I gathered two hundred shafts here in Meduseld and have still seventeen of my own reclaimed after battles. I reckon I can kill three hundreds with them. T'will not be 'nigh enough."

The Shieldmaiden did not dispute her expected count, but only sighed.

"I too feel doubt, having learnt the count of our foes. Haleth shall slay more than he loses, but that too may not be 'nigh enough. Yet like many, I fear Dunharrow more than the Dunlendings. Pain and death are the lot of e'ery warrior, but being dragged to hell by ghosts? Nay. I would leap from the cliffs ere surrendering my spirit to those who dwell in the mountain," she said, and more softly, in barely a whisper, she added, "and I would carry my love o'er with me if it came to that."

Helluin nodded, understanding her fear, but in hope of assuaging it somewhat, told her, "Save those who pass the forbidden door seeking treasure in their halls, they trouble none. Once I entered there to learn tidings of Baldor the Hapless. I have seen their realm and I have spoken with some, and I escaped after. I have learnt what they crave. They wait through death for the chance to redeem the oath they broke, and that chance shall not come of the Eorlingas, for they were cursed by the Men of the West long ago."

"And yet, should we fail of Eorl's Oath, shall we not also be accursed as well? We swore to that same people," Agrona said. "I fear this battle for more causes than the simple threat of death. That possibility I accepted as a girl, along with my sword."

"I deem that only should ye prove faithless would the curse fall upon thy people, Agrona. To die fulfilling the oath of thy sires, that is no cause for being accursed," Helluin said.

"Then I hope that thou art right, Helluin. E'ery sworn spear in our king's service would honor Eorl's words. They shall fight to the last for our bond of friendship with Gondor, whence came this land we so love. Alas that we are so few here. Would that we could win this war and for many more lives of kings see Rohan's colors flying proud o'er these wide fields of grass where Men and horses roam free."

"I believe that shall be," Helluin said, impressed by the Shieldmaiden's earnest words, her sentiments akin to those the Noldo had heard through the years from e'ery Man of the Éothéod, "and I shall do 'aught I can to make it so." Agrona nodded and offered a smile, wholly believing that the Noldo would fight for their cause. She had no idea what those words truly meant.

We saw four thousands survive battle on the road, seven hundreds escaped Súthburg, and there is this host of five to six thousands, perhaps twelve thousands all told that we know of, Helluin thought. But in the Hithaeglir, I slew sixteen thousand Yrch in a century and a quarter, and in Rhovanion, three thousand Dwarves in a long day and night of battle. I have time…longer than any Man or Elf upon these Mortal Shores. One day Rohan shall be free, even if no king of Eorl's line lives to see it.

Helluin turned to take her leave, but Princess Heorte followed her. When they had come a few paces, she spoke.

"Helluin, a moment, I pray thee." The Noldo turned to face her and dipped her head.

"Of course, my lady," she said. "What wouldst thou?"

"I would make a request of thee for the morrow, so far as the fortunes of battle allow," Heorte said. Helluin canted her head and raised a brow in question, bidding her continue. "For the sake of my people and my father…and myself as well, I pray thee, look to my brother's safety as thou can. We need him. I need him."

"My lady," Helluin replied. "Thy brother is a good Man, bold and skilled in battle, and he is his king's heir. I shall ride close and do what I can to preserve him."

"I thank thee sincerely, Helluin, and I hope to see ye both after the battle," the princess said. "Good fortune to thee."

"And to thee, my lady. Fair night," Helluin said and bowed to the young princess who turned to ascend the stairs of Meduseld with Agrona beside her.

The people of Edoras who had not aforetime fled to Norðr-vestandóttir Bý began their trek into Harrowdale at four hours past dawn on 12 Nórui. From the southern height of the platform upon which Meduseld stood, Helluin watched the column of citizens, livestock, horses, carts, and wagons wending their way south down the dirt track that ran beside the river Snowbourn. Four hundred-odd souls made a line of refugees that stretched for o'er a quarter mile. At their head rode Princess Heorte with Agrona beside her, bearing a shield and spear with a pennant of Rohan fluttering o'erhead, but in addition to the white horse courant, it displayed the added heraldry of a white heart, the personal symbol and namesake of the princess. By noon, they had not only left the city as ordered, but had disappeared from sight an hour past 'round the northern spur of Írensaga, which the Rohirrim call the Starkhorn.

The fall of footsteps coming from the front of Meduseld drew the Noldo's attention. She turned towards the sound as Prince Haleth and Captain Heaþolaf joined her. They surveyed the empty road and nodded in approval.

"So, they took their leave timely?" the prince asked, just to be sure.

"Aye, my lord, they marched at the fourth hour and passed from sight o'er an hour ago. By now, I reckon they have come the five miles to Upbourn," she said.

The prince nodded, but still appeared troubled. Helluin cocked a brow in question, bidding him speak his concerns whilst they yet stood at peace 'neath the noonday sun.

"I know she shall be as safe as any may be in this land, yet still, I worry for my sister," Haleth said. "I pray thee, should evil find us and the days grow dark, seek to safe-keep Heorte. She is beloved by the people and my father's heart would break if she came to harm because I could not protect her. Soon we shall be hard pressed and perhaps o'ermatched. Edoras may fall and the Eastfold with it. But a hall may be rebuilt and the lands scourged one day. Our princess and our people, I would have them survive despite all else being lost."

Helluin nodded to him, thinking, Last night she made well 'nigh the same request of me on thy behalf, and I have learnt enough of thy father's mind to know his heart as well. Much love and devotion there is in thy family and 'tis a great blessing for thy people partake of it by extension.

"My lord, should the battle go ill, I shall look to Princess Heorte's safety and the welfare of thy people in Harrowdale," Helluin told him.

To her words, the prince nodded gravely, and then with that care addressed, a wide grin broke on his lips.

"And now, to battle!" he declared.

Prince Haleth strode down the platform of Meduseld with the captain at his side and Helluin trailing behind. He stretched out a hand and Heaþolaf proffered his lord's helm with its horsehair crest of the Third Marshal.

Rounding the corner to the front of the hall, he cast a glance to the pair of door wardens and asked, "Emptied?"

The ranking soldier to the right of the doors dipped his head and replied, "Aye my lord, none remain within."

The marshal had started to turn towards the stairs, but the same soldier took a step forward and called out, "My lord, none remain…," and gave his prince a beseeching look.

Then Haleth turned back to the door wardens and after a moment, he laughed.

"Join me," he said. "I would not waste thy valor guarding the doors of an empty hall when foes beg for our steel."

Broad smiles graced the faces of the door wardens and the first exclaimed, "Yea!" whilst the second enthusiastically pumped his fist into the air.

They fell in behind the Noldo and the five descended from Meduseld and walked through the deserted city 'til they came to the stables. There they found their horses and saddled them, for the adult grooms had taken up arms and the youths had left with the refugees, and finally, they mounted and rode out of the gates to join the muster.

Although sixty Riders had remained just outside the gates of Edoras and a few dozens had been lost in battle, still 'nigh fourteen hundreds followed the Third Marshal from the city to waylay the lands beyond the Great West Road. They left at an hour past noon, and after another hour, had come three leagues north. There they gathered on and about the dirt track leading from the Entwade. In the distance, they marked a faint but ominous cloud of rising dust.

"The enemy approaches," Captain Heaþolaf muttered, as much to himself as to the prince.

The prince nodded in agreement and then cast a glance to the Noldo at his side.

"My lord, we are surrounded by grasslands and only the road is bare dirt. We know they come south from the ford. I wager at least some of their host follows the track to raise such a cloud of dust," Helluin offered, and then added, "Those would be a league distant, or so I reckon them."

After a moment for thought, the Third Marshal cried out to the host, "The enemy comes and we shall not await them. We shall engage them as far from the West Road and Edoras as can be." With that, he swept his arm forward and the host began to move.

Now the Rohirrim cantered north, but they kept to the grassland just west of the dirt track. Though they raised no cloud of dust themselves, the sound of so many horses would be heard when they came within perhaps a third of a mile, if they were not espied first by enemy scouts.

After coming north half a league, Haleth ordered that they slow to a trot, yet further reducing the sound of their hoof beats. Because both they and the Dunlendings marched on converging paths, they could encounter their foes at any time.

This came to pass ere they had come another furlong. Helluin's sharp Elvish sight revealed a party of a dozen approaching at three furlongs. It seemed that these marked the Eorlingas at 'nigh the same moment, for they reined to a halt and for a few moments stared south.

There could be little doubt to them that this was a host of Eorlingas. They were all mounted, clad in green cloaks, with round, painted shields of wood at their backs or hanging from their saddles, and many bore pennants of a white horse on green attached to their spears. Glints of sunlight on steel helms and spear points provided an estimate of their count. The scouts were too distant for archery and not even Helluin's arrows could stay them. When they turned their mounts and galloped away to the north, 'twas certain that Haleth's host would be reported.

By then, a few Men with sharper eyesight had also marked the scouting party. A ripple of comments ran through the host with some pointing towards the north where they had fled.

"My lord, we are revealed," Captain Heaþolaf reported.

"And we would be best served by not lingering where we are expected," added Helluin.

Haleth nodded in agreement and said, "They would have found us sooner or later," and after a few moments for contemplation added, "Now they shall know where we are not. Alas that we cannot know how many of them are mounted and how many fight afoot."

The prince coaxed his horse to a gallop and the host followed, swinging a mile to the west in a great arc. The Rohirrim would not linger where they were expected. Instead, the Third Marshal intended to bypass his foes and assail them from the rear on their western flank. He hoped to slay a tithe of their strength and deprive them especially of their horsemen, and then continue on south to guard the Great West Road.

Of course, he was experienced enough to know that whilst plans might by Men be laid, battle was more oft by fate made. Thus he was but half surprised when after half a mile, they well 'nigh ran o'er a flanking company of Dunlendings numbering three hundred afoot and thirty ahorse.

The battle was sudden and brief, two charges and a short pursuit. Like the other mounted archers, Helluin marked their foes whilst but a furlong away. At a gallop, she had barely time to nock an arrow and send it into the neck of an enemy riding towards them at a walk with an arrow on his own bowstring. A few more arrows followed, and then the Riders slammed into the ranks of footmen with lowered spears. Most of their own mounted archers had to turn in their saddles to shoot at the backs of foes they had already passed, aiming for the larger targets of those ahorse. O'er half their foes were struck down or impaled in the first clash.

Haleth turned his column, swinging in a tight arc, first to the west and then back east. Most of the host charged the remaining Dunlending infantry, but Helluin and some other archers broke off and pursued the now fleeing enemy horsemen. These they shot from their saddles, save for a very few who made good their escape, desperately riding towards the distant cloud of dust. After their second charge, the Third Marshal led his éoreds to resume their original plan and they galloped away to the north. In their wake, but three dozen foes had survived unscathed.

By virtue of their initial success, the Riders were high-hearted and flush with confidence. Had they not felt such a need of stealth, they would have been singing songs, shouting boasts, and winding their horns. Instead, they rode with grins on their faces, eager for further slaughter.

We must make haste, Helluin thought, ere those few who escaped us reveal our plan.

Even as she thought it, the Third Marshal began turning the host east, and soon back south again so that the cloud of dust raised by those foes on the dirt track rose directly ahead and but a mile away. There Haleth called a short halt to rest the horses ere continuing in the wake of their enemies. Their course was taking them down the western verge of the road, though they would amend that when the Dunlendings came into view. After a short span, they continued on their way.

They rode at a trot for the quarter part of an hour, and the Rohirrim discovered that the Dunlending host had left the road to march west. It seemed that the horsemen who had escaped their earlier battle had reported foes in that direction.

Now the vast army of invaders advanced west and the Riders were closest to its northern flank. From their position, the length of its ranks could not be told, but its files stretched eight deep, roughly the width of an infantry column marching on the dirt track leading from the Entwade. It seemed they had simply turned 'right-face' and not changed their company's order.

Before the footmen rode a loose company of cavalry numbering in the hundreds. There was no sign that the Dunlendings had heard the approach of the Eorlingas, for they were facing away and anticipating battle, and they were deafened by the tramp of their own ten thousand boots.

Haleth and his host watched them from a distance of a third of a mile, making their best guess as to their direction, count, and disposition. It all seemed straightforward enough. Having no long the advantage of surprise, the enemy now sought to engage and o'erwhelm the Rohirrim with their numbers. As 'twas the Third Marshal's intent to fall upon the rear of the Dunlendings' flank, they had but to hold their position and allow the enemy to advance 'til they were well ahead.

After five minutes, the Dunlendings had advanced another quarter mile, still seemingly oblivious to the presence of the Eorlingas. The prince turned to his host and issued orders for the attack.

"Mounted archers, move right, form files," he said, and the word was passed.

From the twelve éoreds, roughly two hundred Riders moved their horses into a new column separate from the rest. Then he turned to Helluin who sat beside him.

"Pray lead the archers, Werewolf's Bane. Follow after us and destroy their cavalry."

A dark grin shaped the Noldo's lips as she dipped her head to acknowledge the request, and she said, "T'would be my pleasure, Third Marshal."

Haleth nodded to her and then turned to gaze at the Dunlending host as they continued to march away into the west. His pause seemed to last a life age, but in truth 'twas only moments, and then he stood in his stirrups and turned to his Men.

"Spread ranks, four deep! No horns. Take their northern flank. Charge!"

He leapt away, coming to a gallop. The host followed, forgoing the winding of their war horns, but feeling eager bloodlust as they charged. The files spread into a front of spears four Riders deep and almost three hundred wide.

Immediately, Helluin called out, "Chevron formation, two deep! Nock arrows!"

The archers formed up in a Λ behind her, a hundred Riders wide with the Noldo at the apex. A second row arranged themselves behind so that they could shoot 'twixt the archers in the first rank. When Haleth's cavalry had a lead of a hundred yards, Helluin shouted "Charge!"

The prince's cavalry charged straight at the rear of their foes' right or northern flank. They maintained a fast gallop, knowing that the quicker they covered the intervening distance, the less time their enemies would have to react and the greater the effect of their sudden onslaught. They were barely o'er two furlongs from the rearmost rank when the Dunlendings began to turn in question towards the growing thunder at their backs. Then they saw a broad front of charging horsemen with lowered spears and raised shields flying towards them with deadly intent.

The reaction was disorganized and uneven. Some turned to face the attack, others tried to shy away to the sides. If any orders were given, they were drowned out in the panic as shouts of alarm and dismay rose into the afternoon air. The Dunlendings barely brought what spears they had amongst them to bear ere the Rohirrim slammed into them, mowing Men down, launching bodies aside with the impacts of their horses, and driving their spears with enough force to penetrate armor and bodies straight through. The inertia of four ranks of cavalry allowed for easy penetration of eight ranks of infantry and the Eorlingas rode straight through the northern flank of the Dunlendings.

As the prince and his leading rank of Riders cleared the ruined infantry lines, they well 'nigh ran straight into the right flank of the enemy horsemen. There were a few clashes of spears and shields, and a few arrows shot in haste that found no targets. Then Haleth and his Men were clear of the enemy cavalry and they continued at a gallop into the west. 'Twas only when they had cleared the infantry formation by a bowshot that they turned south. By that time, the mounted Dunlendings had begun to charge after them in hope of extracting some measure of vengeance. They ne'er even noticed Helluin's formation of mounted archers bearing down on them from the north.

Knowing that after his charge, the ground in Haleth's path would be strewn with the bodies of worsted foes, the Noldo had led her archers in an arc to the north to bypass the devastation ere turning them south to engage the enemy cavalry. These had just begun to pursue the Third Marshal when they were showered with arrows.

The Dunlending cavalry, screaming curses and threats, continued to pursue the Third Marshal whilst Helluin and her mounted archers gave chase, picking them off as swiftly as they could. Although they outnumbered the Noldo's formation at first, the invaders ne'er thought to turn on them. It seemed that, once at a gallop, the notion of wheeling away from the foes they could see to confront those behind was no choice at all. Perhaps they actually thought the prince's host fled from them. Perhaps they were simply too inflamed with hatred for the cavalry that had slain their footmen, but for whate'er cause, they continued forward with the Rohirrim archers chasing them in turn, and all of this taking place beyond the range of the infantry to affect 'aught.

If some of the mounted Dunlendings had chanced to glance behind, perhaps when the Man riding next to them fell with an arrow in his back, they would have seen the mounted archers in their chevron formation, loosing arrow after arrow at them. But they would have also seen the lead Rider standing upright with flawless balance atop her galloping horse's back as she loosed deadly shafts from a black steel war bow.

So 'twas that whilst the infantry stood by deedless and looked on in astonishment and growing dismay, the host of the Rohirrim turned away south to prolong the chase. The prince intended to give Helluin's mounted archers more time to whittle away at the strength of the Dunlending cavalry. This they did, for whilst the enemy had begun the chase with an advantage of o'er a hundred, that disparity fell as the archers maintained the engagement with none to oppose them.

"'Tis as shooting fish in a barrel," Guðláf¹ chortled to his friend Wulfmær² who rode closest to him in the chevron. ¹(Guðláf, Battle survivor Old English) ²(Wulfmær, Splendid Wolf Old English)

"Aye," Wulfmær agreed as he nocked another arrow, "save that the fish swim as swift as we and there are no sides to the barrel."

The shooting continued for twenty long minutes as all the horses tired. The chase slowed as their mounts heaved and sweated and their pace decreased. To this, all parties were subject. Haleth's host slowed, the Dunlending cavalry slowed, and Helluin's archers slowed. By then, the infantry was far behind and no succor could they offer their mounted comrades.

Finally, when their steeds could no longer maintain a gallop, Haleth raised a fist and the host slowed to a trot, then turned about face and halted. The Dunlendings on their exhausted mounts were suddenly trapped 'twixt a host many times their count and a formation of archers now more than their equal. Helluin slowed the chevron to a walk and then at twenty yards, bid them halt.

"Maintain thirty paces and loose at will!" she ordered. "Kill 'em all."

The Eorlingas remained in the saddle, but continued shooting, now swifter and more accurate for being still. When groups of Dunlendings tried to bolt from the engagement, they found their horses were too tired to flee. There was no escape. One by one, they fell, and though a few still bore bows of their own, to shoot was to draw fire from their foes and so these archers were some of the first to be slain. Now, the battle truly was as shooting fish in a barrel.

At the fore, Helluin still stood atop Hildmearh, picking off her foes from that elevated position with unnatural accuracy, and the sight of her was an inspiration to the Rohirrim and a vision of terror to their enemies. The final slaughter of the cavalry took the quarter part of an hour, but the outcome was ne'er in doubt and 'twas done at last. Amidst a field of dead, the Dunlending horses nosed their fallen riders, chuffed and blew air into their faces, but after receiving no response, they began to drift away. The Eorlingas let them pass, for though they had borne enemies to battle, they were now ruled by sorrow.

"Dismount and retrieve arrows," Helluin ordered her company, and the archers vacated their saddles and moved to repossess their shafts. Here and there, one would draw sword to finish off a wounded foe, but for the most part, the recovery proceeded without remark.

When she had restocked her quiver, Helluin walked o'er to where Haleth sat at the head of the host.

"My lord, the cavalry is destroyed," she said with a grin, as if 'twas not wholly obvious.

The prince laughed in response and said, "Well done, Werewolf's Bane. We rest the horses an hour and then we ride." Helluin gave him a nod and then returned to the archers to convey his orders.

Now the Riders dismounted and allowed their steeds to graze, and after following their noses a short distance, to drink from a small creek that flowed 'cross the grasslands as well. A rejuvenating hour of rest with water and fodder did the horses much good. By the end of that span, their alertness had greatly improved. Though only a good night's sleep would wholly mend their exhaustion, they were ready to move on. Haleth took a glance at the sun to judge the time and then ordered his host to their saddles.

"We attack the enemy's southern flank. Helluin, I would that thine archers lead the host and distract their front rank. Wheel back and make a second pass from the rear after we have driven through them," Haleth ordered.

Helluin dipped her head to acknowledge his orders whilst behind her the archers celebrated the opportunity to shoot at their foes twice ere retreating south to the Great West Road. They had lost so few that day that they were flush with confidence and yearning for mayhem.

Prince Haleth led the host east, back down the trail of dead Dunlending cavalry towards where they had last seen the infantry. They soon discovered that whilst they had rested their horses, the enemy had marched south, following their fallen horsemen so that they were now a league closer. After riding but the sixth part of an hour, the Rohirrim saw their foes a half-mile ahead.

As they drew closer, they marked that the Dunlendings and their Corsair allies had reordered their host. Rather than a broad front only eight ranks deep, they had shifted into a block formation with two hundred-odd files, each twenty ranks deep, a far harder arrangement for cavalry to drive through. At a quarter mile, they also marked that they had moved their spearmen to the front rank with archers behind them, but worse, the Corsairs had arranged their crossbowmen in two files along each flank.

Compared to the bows of the mounted archers, the crossbows had greater power but were slower to prepare. Their bolts were deadly even if their shooting rate was slower, and they could do grievous damage to a mounted column at a greater range than the Rohirrim's arrows. Attacking the flanks as they had planned would bring numerous casualties, especially amongst the mounted archers who were to attack the flanks first. That potential was even graver because whilst needing both hands for their archery, the mounted archers could carry no shields.

The Third Marshal raised his fist, calling the host to a halt. Then he sat a while, carefully surveying the host of the enemy. Finally, he turned to Helluin.

"What dost thine Elvish eyes see?" he asked.

"There are two hundred and twenty files of twenty ranks each with spears at the fore and a rank of Dunlending archers behind," she said. "On each of the flanks stand two files of Corsair crossbowmen with five more files of their comrades armed with cutlasses and round steel shields or boarding pikes standing inward. Wide-brimmed hats of steel they wear o'er coifs and long hauberks of blackened mail. They carry no shields at their backs, as they would for a siege. I make the total count four thousand four hundred of which two hundred eighty are Corsairs."

"What of these crossbowmen, Helluin? I have not met their kind in battle aforetime."

"Nor have I, my lord, but I have seen much larger versions of such weapons mounted aboard ships long ago." She thought for a moment, making some estimates of power from their size. "These, I reckon, launch a quarrel of about a foot in length with power equal to a bow of seventy to eighty pounds draw weight. They are deadly weapons, my lord, slow to shoot, but still to be avoided if possible."

"Are they strong enough to pierce a shield of wood?"

"Aye, though perhaps not enough to pass completely through," Helluin guessed.

Then for some moments, Prince Haleth gave thought to her counsel, but at last he had made up his mind. 'Twas obvious to him now that his battle plan must needs be amended.

"I pray thee open the center, Werewolf's Bane. With thine archers, shoot the spearmen and such bowmen in their second rank as ye may. We shall charge against the midst of their host and bypass those perilous flanks."

"As thou wouldst, my lord," Helluin said as she dipped her head to the Third Marshal. "We shall open the way for the host." Then she turned away and went to the archers to convey the prince's orders whilst he issued his commands to the captains of the éoreds.

During the battle on the road, Helluin had marked the reluctance of the Dunlending archers to shoot at distance. They had withheld their fire 'til they closed with the Rohirrim to a distance comfortable for those who had aforetime hunted with their bows rather than used them in war. So she expected that 'twas not their full range that was to be feared, but rather the range at which they chose to engage. The Noldo was determined to safeguard her archers so much as she could as they attacked the enemy host. She drew the mithril coif from her travel bag and donned it, and then set three arrows to her bowstring.

"Nock arrows!" she ordered, "Single file! Charge!"

The mounted archers came to a gallop in the Noldo's wake as she charged towards the waiting enemy host. She could see their archers nocking arrows, but the Rohirrim had presented only a single file and their target was only a single rider, herself. Then, to gain a better shooting position and to spare Hildmearh from being hit by errant shots, she stood upright atop the mare's back, and as the distance closed, she drew the Númenórean steel war bow.

Despite their dismay, 'twas only when she had come within a fifty yards of the Dunlendings' front rank that they began to shoot. The arrows leapt towards her on low trajectories from the second rank. At that range, the chances would have been good for a fatal hit, but to the archers' horror, their shafts deflected harmlessly off the Noldo's mithril armor and ricocheted to the sides.

Then Helluin loosed and was rewarded by the fall of three spearmen in the front rank, and as she turned aside towards the north, she called out, "Alternate! Break and circle! Fire at will!"

The column of Rohirrim behind her peeled off with e'ery other Rider turning right or left to form two circles that rode into and out of the Dunlendings' shooting range as they loosed their own arrows and then nocked and drew again. The two circles were separated by a free space of only ten yards, but the arrows were directed toward the thirty yards at the center of the front ranks. Shouts and curses and screams of pain rose from the host to fill the air.

The archery duel had continued long enough that each of the Riders had loosed a half-dozen shafts when the sudden thunder of hoof beats punctuated by the winding of war horns eclipsed all other sounds of battle. The mounted archers abandoned their circles, forming two companies as they finally rode away from the host. Then, through the space 'twixt them, the Third Marshal led his Riders in a charge straight at the diminished center of the Dunlending host.

Haleth's éoreds had formed up in a column that struck the enemy host 'cross a breadth of fifty yards. The front rank was only forty Riders wide, but another thirty-five ranks trailed tightly behind. That dense mass of Men and horses created inertia sufficient to carry them straight through their foes. They plowed down the twenty ranks of infantry with lowered spears and ne'er broke from a gallop.

Helluin turned her archers and they formed up in a column with forty ranks and five files, and they followed the prince into the breach his charge had created, loosing a few more arrows into the foes on either side as they passed through.

The entire Rohirrim host continued east, away from the Dunlendings and their Corsair allies 'til they had put a quarter mile 'twixt themselves and the battle, and then they slowed to a trot. In their wake, a corridor of dead lay strewn through the center of the enemy host. They had managed to slay some twelve hundred foes with arrows, spears, and the sheer power of their galloping warhorses that day. They had lost 'round a hundred fifty in trade, a third of them mounted archers struck by Dunlending arrows ere the cavalry charge, or perhaps hit by Corsair bolts as they withdrew behind the éoreds, having become their rearguard.

After taking a brief respite to rest their steeds and make a count of the dead and wounded, Haleth offered his Men praise for their success in battle, though many foes yet remained. Still, 'twas better than his guesses aforetime for that day's fighting and he was well satisfied. Even so, he knew the gravest trials lay ahead. There were still o'er three thousand invaders marching against Edoras, whilst they had yet to challenge the Corsair crossbows.

"On this day ye have upheld the oaths of our sires and won renown defending Rohan and Gondor. Now we return to the road which we are tasked to defend," he told his host.

They rode for the Great East Road as the day waned. 'Neath the westering sun, they covered the remaining eight miles, but ere they had reached the ancient road of the King's Folk, a Rider approached at a gallop. Blood from a head wound had trickled down into his left eye and a sword cut had rent the sleeve of his sword arm. When he reached the prince, he gasped to regain his breath whilst his lathered horse stood with head down, panting and sweating.

He was one of the sixty Rohirrim detailed to guard Edoras and Haleth felt as if a lump of ice was forming in his belly, but he bid the Man speak.

"My lord, Edoras is besieged," he choked out, "the enemy came down the road from the west!"

To Be Continued