Chapter 10: Tharbad
It had taken weeks of travel, two battles, two engagements, and one death, but we fucking made it to Tharbad. Praise the lord and pass the bacon.
As we passed into the ruined city, I was strongly reminded of Osgiliath in the quality of the stonework and towers; yet there was a distinct touch of Rohan in the little bit of art that remained after a century of abandonment. It was the biggest place we had seen since Minas Tirith if I were honest, or at least it felt bigger. More like a city than a village.
"Dibs on the belltower," Liam claimed, pointing at a particularly tall and ruined tower beside the river.
"If we can fix it up for you, sure thing," Aunt Libby agreed with a doubtful look at it.
The streets weren't quite ruined enough for peaceful beauty. The quiet was eerie under the noises of horses and wooden wheels. Call me paranoid, but I insisted on checking every building in town before I was willing to sleep in this place.
By what felt like a miracle, the worst anyone found were a few rats and the remains of the public bathroom.
We were home, and some semblance of safe.
A large structure that was in near complete ruins, only outer walls remaining, was chosen as a temporary night time paddock. The carriage blocked the entrance to that but otherwise nights were spent much as they had been for the past weeks we had been on Middle Earth. I still slept under a wagon with Aditi and Gander while the wind began to nip.
Days couldn't have been more different now that we had somewhere to settle and not much time before autumn truly set in. Grandpa set up a garden, utilizing the kids and Cressie to dig and plant, while Papa herded the horses in their pasturing. Gran and the corgis came into their own, herding the cows and poultry that we had left Edoras with.
The rest of us were commandeered by Aunt Libby to begin repairs. Not on the whole town, but a few buildings with especially sturdy walls to live in. And a composting latrine and a riverside well far apart from each other, because the last thing we needed was a cholera epidemic.
Everyone had their place, including Nan. She knitted, watched Aaron, and when her back allowed it, helped in the gardening. But we all saw that she was slowing down before our eyes.
Obviously we all tried not to think about it. There was too much else to celebrate, like constructing a functional chimney or completing the main roof before the autumn rains began. Tharbad was beginning to feel like home and none of us wanted to ruin this hopeful feeling.
Time waits for no one, however. One November-ish morning Nan didn't shuffle in for breakfast and we all knew without saying that she was gone.
We buried her on a hill overlooking the town. Unfortunately in the process we found out where the previous inhabitants had buried their plague ridden dead, a rather gruesome discovery for Madhav when he found the first bone. I was pretty sure it was a forearm.
At first we wondered if we should dig somewhere else, but honestly we were tired and it was late so we laid her to rest right there in the plague pit. And then I started laughing because apparently I'm a lunatic.
"Are you okay?" Andy asked, despite plainly knowing the answer. Her own eyes were red and swollen from tears.
"I was just thinking, if Lourdes and her team ever dig her up, they're gonna have some explaining to do," I said, and then outright cackled. Misting rain coated my face as I raised it to the sky.
"Nan died, and you're laughing?" Cressie demanded. She sounded like she had a bad head cold and I really hoped that wasn't the case.
I drew a deep breath and released it in a gust.
"Everybody deals differently," Liam pointed out, ever the sensible one.
"That really wasn't appropriate, but I couldn't help myself," I said, shrugging moodily.
We trudged inside to the relative warmth of home, where Electra revived the fire and put on the washing cauldron. Wind cracked through the vents in the shutters so our jackets tended to stay on even indoors. Cloaks were hung up on pegs at the entrance in stodgy silence.
"Now it's just us newbs, huh?" Mackey asked no one in particular as we settled onto our benches, and for Grandpa his chair.
Nan's freshly made rocker seemed to mock us with its emptiness.
I couldn't take the tears and emotional silence for very long. After a while I got up and walked into the room where Nan, Gran, and Grandma slept, only to stand staring for who knows how long at Nan's primitive bed.
She shouldn't have had to die with a sack of hay as a mattress, on a hastily home made bedframe. After so long in modern times, taking on that new world's problems as her own, she should have been able to enjoy everything she earned there. Not been tossed back into this mess with us.
The door creaked open and I shot a wary glance over my shoulder. It was only Gran, so I shifted over to give her bed some extra space.
Instead she went straight for Nan's bed and began rummaging under the mattress.
"Gran!" I exclaimed, scandalized.
She only continued until with an, "Aha!" she pulled a leatherbound volume from its hiding place. "I was curious about what she kept writing in here," she explained somewhat sheepishly as she hugged it to her chest, "I was waiting until she told me, but now…" She sniffled delicately.
Hungrily I eyed the book. It had been so long since I even saw a written page, never mind got the chance to read… "Can I see?" I asked.
Gran grinned at me. "Let's see," she said and brought the book over to the window, where the last rays of daylight crept in.
The spine of the book creaked and the parchment was stiff; this couldn't have been bought before Edoras. The black ink was similarly fresh, beginning with a letter written to, "My beloved family".
I knew upon our arrival that Middle Earth was not meant to be my home for much longer. Seeing my younger self in Edoras only validated that, reminded me of my age. In any case I have lived a fulfilling life, a much longer one than almost anyone here at home, and I have no regrets.
Actually, having written that and seen the year 2020 AD, I do have one regret: I didn't kill enough Nazis.
Honestly, I couldn't help cackling. "That's the spirit," I told the book bracingly.
"She was a member of the British SOE, you know," Gran said, smiling and shaking her head at her mother-in-law, "There wasn't a shred of evidence for her existence before she escaped Cherbourg and they rather took advantage of that."
My jaw dropped open. "The SOE? Like, the Special Operations Executive SOE? The Baker Street Irregulars? Formed by Winston Churchill to 'set Europe ablaze', SOE?" I demanded.
"What else?" Gran asked hypothetically, "I know she only told you kids that she worked for the British government during the war. She didn't think it appropriate to mention the SOE when you were small, and then later on she thought it would sound like boasting."
"Just saying, if I knew, I would've bloody worshiped her," I stated with all seriousness.
"I think that was her point," Gran said with a mischievous little smile.
This is a small guide to what in 2020 we would call homesteading. I've included everything I remember of Rohan and several things that I learned (or relearned) while in Edoras. Coming from an industrialized society, I know that you lot have never needed to grow your own wheat or potatoes, and most certainly have never built a privy.
Throughout your lives I've done my best to prepare you for the kinds of hardships you'll see. I can only hope that it, and this book are enough.
As a much more famous alien than I said, live long and prosper.
Love,
Nan AKA Rohesia
This time it was Gran who cracked up into laughter. "A Trekkie until the day she died," she snickered as she turned the page.
I pretended to not notice her wiping her eyes. In return, she ignored my massive uptake of snot.
The following pages were exactly what Nan intended, complete with diagrams. Her scrawl was a bit messy and in a few places blotchy but it was suddenly so beautiful to me. Even the little misspellings that she scratched out were lingered on until the light faded.
"I think in the morning we should show this to everybody. Let them know we're not just floundering around trying to make something work," I suggested.
Gran made an affirming hum. She set the book on Nan's bed for now, and we rejoined the others for dinner.
The next day, Grandpa walked out of their room clutching Nan's book like a lifeline. His eyes were red and puffy but his voice was proud as he showed everyone what his mother had done with her last months.
Suddenly, this venture wasn't quite so intimidating. At least now we had a rough idea of how to do things the Middle Earth way.
Except for tending the gardens and the animals, much of the next several months were spent indoors. It was just too damn cold and rainy to bother otherwise. Enough roofs and window frames with shutters had been completed to give everyone adequate space within the large building we had chosen at home, but cabin fever did eventually set in.
Cressie and Electra were especially at each other's throats. Completely opposite in temperament, they had always had a rough relationship, not helped by a dozen year age gap. The combination of foul weather and boredom turned them both into damn harpies.
More often than not I found myself with the horses that winter. They were far enough from the house to not be pulled into the sisterly screaming matches but close enough to hear when they ended, and as a bonus I got to spend more time with Pitaajee. He adored the horses and his bottomless well of good humor soothed my frazzled nerves when I needed it the most.
Food was an issue that almost everybody worried about. Hopefully not Rosie or Aaron, but everyone else was perfectly aware of how easy it would be for us all to starve. The garden came along well enough and we had a good stock from Edoras, so it thankfully didn't come to that. Eggs from the chickens, ducks, and geese became a daily feature, and every week or so Electra would get frustrated enough to go out and shoot something, so at least we didn't have to worry about protein deficiency.
That's without getting into the tension that Stevie and Anahera had to be feeling. Already there had been two deaths in the family, and while I hadn't lost a child or mother yet, the lack of modern medical facilities made us all antsy.
We watched Anahera waddle around carefully, ever closer to her due date and yet always smiling. Occasionally I would see her whisper something to her unborn child.
Of course, her labor started the second a snow storm sprung up. The barometer falling has a tendency to do that. Wind howled and the roof creaked but the sheer noise of them couldn't possibly compare to a woman having her first child. It scared the life out of everyone else; Cressie kept peeking in, terrified that her cousin's wife was dying like she nearly did with Rosie.
The whole time, even when he (and his personal equipment) were being threatened by his wife, Stevie never left her side. He only had praise for her as she managed a feat that boggled his mind. It took one last scream from Anahera, Stevie's hand cracking audibly, him screeching along with his wife, and then there was a tiny little cry.
Everything else was forgotten the moment that the new parents heard that first wail. Stevie barely noticed his sprained hand until he was asked to cut the umbilical cord and had to do it right-handed. Even after the most painful and exhausting event of her life, Anahera immediately sat up and reached out for her baby.
"Ten fingers and ten toes, and look, it's a boy," I cooed as I examined the little one and cleaned him up, "He's perfect in every way." His lungs were too weak to be able to screech at full volume, but that would come with practice. Once he was done spitting up amniotic fluid.
"We've got a son," Stevie said to his wife with wonder.
"Can I hold him?" Anahera asked immediately. She needed her husband's support to sit up but I heard the warning in her voice. If I didn't give her her child soon, my head was coming off.
"Let me clean him up really quick and wrap him up," I told her, nodding my thanks to Aunt Libby. Like Cressie she had also been in and out, worried, but at least she was helpful; this time she brought a basin of water, freshly warmed by the fire.
"I can't believe I did that," Anahera groaned.
"I can't believe you did that either," Stevie agreed, a little shell shocked and starry eyed now that it was over, "I probably would've begged to die five minutes in."
All things considered, I'd probably also beg to die when it was my turn. Especially if I had to do it without painkillers like Anahera.
We didn't exactly have Huggies, but we did have diaper pins and cloth. With practiced hands (thank you, Afghanistan) I slapped a diaper together, then wrapped him up tightly in a blanket. "Here you go, one piece of precious cargo," I told the happy couple as I handed the baby to his mother.
Obviously, Anahera and Stevie both fell completely in love with their little one. The whole world seemed to vanish for them, to the point that they barely noticed when Aditi and I left.
The main room was quiet beyond Cressie and Dezzie's traumatized sobs, and tense. Even Aaron seemed to feel it, joining the whole group in gazing hopefully at me and my assistant.
"Anahera should be just fine," I told them with a tired grin, "The baby is healthy, too."
"Woohoo!" Mackey cheered, her fiance whistling.
"What do you mean, 'should be fine'? What's wrong?" Dezzie demanded, wiping the tears from under her glasses.
It was like the whole room held their breath once they realized the implications.
"Right now, she's in good shape. As long as she doesn't get an infection, I anticipate that things should go well. But like everything else, who knows what'll happen in the future?" I answered candidly, "At the moment though, she and the baby are healthy and I suggest we all celebrate that."
Gran got up and scurried into the larder, coming out with two glass bottles. "King Theoden gave these to us. It seems like a good time to open them, I think," she said happily, "Gondorian wine."
Most everyone gladly offered their cup to be filled. I smirked at Gran when she gave me an extra little pour, getting a subtle wink in reply. A glance to my side showed that Aditi also got a little bit of extra.
When Liam got some poured into his glass though, Cressie cleared her throat.
Grandma finished his pour and handed his cup back. "Yes?" she asked in a silky voice, taking Pitaajee's cup with a smile at him.
"Liam's only seventeen, remember?" Cressie hinted not so subtly.
As if just remembering that, Liam took several hurried sips. His face twisted at the taste.
"It's only one cup of wine, for a celebration, dear. It's not like we've got a whole liquor cabinet for him to sneak into like his mum," Gran reasoned.
For once not arguing it, Cressie held her hands up. "When the alcohol lowers his IQ, don't blame it on me," she said arrogantly.
Electra seemed to spark; she opened her mouth to retort.
"Actually, I think we might already have a leg up on everybody here," Aditi interrupted thoughtfully.
I made a noise of interest to encourage her.
"Well, they grew up with regular hunger and sometimes famines, and all kinds of sickness," Aditi continued, "We grew up with a variety of food, lots of nutrients, good health care, and education. I'm not saying we're better, maybe just better predisposed to survive." She shrugged helplessly. Like Liam, her face twisted at the taste of the wine.
Out of curiosity, I tasted my cup. It was fucking sour and there was some sediment in it but it didn't taste spoiled at all. Just like a vintage that I prayed I would never have to taste again.
All things considered, the night was a good one. I used to be able to suck down a bottle of ouzo by myself but after months without a drop of booze, one cup of wine had me practically dancing on the table.
It also made me very lonely and kind of horny. Something that Mackey and Matt didn't have a problem dealing with, but unfortunately none of the rest of us had a significant other nearby. Those of us seeing somebody who wasn't around got melancholy (I'm looking at you Dezzie) or started talking about her woes.
"Did we go too fast?" Andy asked mournfully, "I think we might've gone too fast." She stared down at her black-red wine for answers.
Ah, yes, her fortnight-long romance with the crown prince of Rohan. Which was going to continue permanently come spring. "Dude, people in this time don't have the option of going slow," I hiccuped, "Life is too short for that."
Despite that it was nothing to celebrate, we bumped our wooden cups together.
"Damn right it is," Madhav grumbled.
I raised my cup to him as well.
"I'm an old maid," Andy announced dramatically, "There is no time." I couldn't tell whether she was mocking someone or being serious.
Being more than a little inebriated, I giggled anyways. "If you're an old maid, then what am I?" I wondered.
"A hazard to life in society," Madhav answered quite seriously. But by now I had enough practice to be able to see the laughter in his black eyes.
I swiped at his shoulder playfully. "Aw shucks."
He only laughed.
All too soon people began dropping off to bed, and eventually I made my way up to the room I shared with Aditi, Dezzie, and Andy. It was a rather large room but honestly looked kind of pitiful with the same hay-sack mattresses and cloaks on top of the blankets.
Yet at the moment I crawled into my bed half-drunk, that didn't seem so bad. We had a roof over our heads and a fire banked downstairs, and somehow the first birth in the family went well. Plus we could always improve the house later; we had all the time in the world.