Chapter 6

Fengel crouched down and set a few small sticks on the little fire that he had started a couple of minutes before. They had rode a long and hard that day, and had made it quite a long way into their journey. He usually planned for three days if he was sent home. They might make it in two and a half if the horses held up. Seeing how he and Theodred both had Fastredden horses that were both in top health, it wasn't so surprising. Eomer's horse was powerful as well and stubbornly kept up.

They had paused for the night, the three of them setting up camp in equal shares.

Theodred was rubbing down his horse and chatting quietly with Eomer, who was running his hands over his horse's legs gently.

Fengel smiled to himself and pivoted a little to look around them.

They had stopped for the night in the middle of a small spine of half foothills. There was shelter from the brisk wind, and from prying eyes that might be looking for small fires.

It didn't look like there was anyone watching. But orcs were tricky and sneaky creatures, and there was a chance that they were watching from a distance.

Fengel hated that they needed a fire, but it was too cold to sleep without one. They had talked about it and had finally settled on a fire just big enough to see by. Theodred and Eomer had made the choice. Fengel didn't have much sway in the conversation for the moment. Once they crossed over the territory line and got far enough North they would start to defer to him. But until then, he was just following orders of his Marshal and prince at this point.

Eomer crouched next to him and looked at the fire. "You're terribly quiet." he mused, his tone soft, only carrying the distance between them.

Fengel looked at him and half shrugged. "Just listening for unwanted company."

Eomer grunted and bobbed his head. "You're not happy about the fire."

"It's not my call. And there's a very good chance that I'm being overly cautious." Fengel shrugged and smiled tightly. "If we had a small company with us, I wouldn't be worried."

A soft squealing scream carried across the plains.

The horses jerked their heads and turned toward the sound, ears pitching forward.

Eomer looked over his shoulder and scanned the plains. "Theodred." he mused, his voice soft and calm. "Come to the fire and get warm for the night."

Theodred walked over and crouched next to the fire. He held his hands out for a moment before rubbing them together and looking at Fengel. "Orcs." he whispered. "Do it."

Fengel dipped his chin and snuffed the fire out. "It's a cloudy night," he mused quietly. "The moon and stars won't light their way. It is one advantage that we have."

"As long as the wind keeps blowing the way that it is, we won't have to worry if they stay in that direction." Eomer agreed, his tone quiet.

"We should probably set a watch." Theodred mused a minute later.

"Fengel-"

"Of course, Marshal."

"Fengel!" Eomer protested, reaching over in the dark to shove Fengel's shoulder.

Fengel batted at his hand and half saved himself from falling. He chuckled softly and stood up. "Which one of you sorry lot am I waking up next?" he wondered.

"Come get me." Theodred ordered, talking over whatever it was that Eomer said.

Eomer huffed. "My Lord."

Fengel snorted and rolled his eyes to himself. "You two work it out between yourselves and just let me know who before you both sleep. Otherwise I'm choosing."

Theodred started quietly talking to Eomer, stubbornly pulling rank and protesting when Eomer tried to override.