Chapter 4

Something bumped against Eomer's boot roughly.

Eomer took a long breath and groaned slightly. He could hardly remember being so tired.

How much had he drank last night? When did he get into this bunk? How did he get to this bunk? He didn't remember walking himself into the bunk room. Was this the bunk room?

The questions made his head hurt. Why couldn't he just sleep another ten minutes?

The bottom of his foot smarted a little with the next thump.

Eomer grunted in an angry way.

"Eomer. Get up."

Eomer opened one eye and glared at the person that was disturbing his sleep. "What?" he demanded.

Fengel chuckled. "Come on. Get up."

"Leave me be for a moment more."

"Don't you want to go on an adventure before the sun is up?"

"No. I want to sleep."

"Oh come on. You can't possibly tell me that you don't want to go for a ride in the predawn? Has becoming Marshal made you lazy?"

"Why are you shouting?" Eomer demanded half sitting up and taking a mostly blind swipe at him.

Fengel snorted and easily dodged the strike. "You drank your fathers proud last night. I'm whispering."

"Like the wind through Fanghorn in a gale." Eomer growled, sitting up and blinking a few times, trying to banish the sleep from his eyes and the fog from his brain.

Fengel snorted and chuckled. "Come on. Adventure."

Eomer flopped back down and growled in protest. "Adventure can wait. Sleep first." He rolled onto his right shoulder and shoved his hand under his head.

"Would you not like to pick you horse m'lord?" Fengel's voice wondered in a half irreverent tone. "Odd, because most would be thrilled to be given such an honor."

Eomer blinked his eyes open, looking over his shoulder at Fengel sharply.

Fengel nodded and smirked. "Come on. Up with you. You've got your boots on already. Let's go!"

Eomer struggled up onto his feet and blinked a couple of times while his balance returned to him.

Fengel gripped his arm for a moment and chuckled. "Steady there."

Eomer huffed and pulled his arm away. "I can stand on my own two feet."

Fengel nodded slowly and smirked. "Is that so." He chuckled. "Come. Feasting is best worn off on the back of a horse."

"The person who told you that was a fool." Eomer growled, still trying to keep his balance steady and centered.

"I am so glad you said that." Fengel smirked at him wickedly.

"Why?" Eomer growled, tiring of his cheerful mood.

"Well M'Lord, Marshal. You told me that." Fengel grinned.

Eomer shifted a little in an experimental way. "I need some water." he mused in a dry voice, choosing to ignore Fengel for the moment.

Fengel offered a cup nearly the same time that Eomer mentioned it. "Thought you might."

Eomer looked at it for a moment and took it. "Theodred is going to make you his personal assistant if you keep this up."

Fengel scoffed. "Right hand of the king? I'm not sure that's my calling. I'd much rather be out fighting orcs with you."

Eomer smirked. "So would Theodred."

Fengel nodded. "He'd have to figure out how to swing a sword if he wanted to keep up with us eh?"

Eomer clicked his tongue and drank the water in nearly one swallow. "You shouldn't be so hard on him."

"He's the king's son! He should be better than all of us."

"Not if he is to be king and we are to fight for him." Eomer pointed out.

"Which is why I say I'd rather fight orcs with you." Fengel chuckled and hefted a water pitcher in a silent question.

Eomer nodded and held out his cup.