The days had been very hot, high summer was in full flow in the Mark, but the riders and Eoreds were always vigilant, they knew from past experience not to be complacent and relax unduly…orcs were not bothered what season it was, they would attack, without mercy as almost every family in Rohan knew. But there had been no orc raids for a good few months and the people were enjoying life just as Eorl had wanted his people to do.

Eomer stood at his bedchamber window in Meduseld looking out over the land, the fields and meadows before him as far as the eye could see, the White Mountains bordering the horizon. Horses were running free over the grass and his heart beat faster as he gazed over the land he loved.

 It had been five years since he had been brought with his sister Eowyn from the Eastemnet after the deaths of his parents to the house of his Uncle, Theoden King. He remembered standing there in the great hall clutching his sobbing sister to him, her grip on him so hard he thought it would leave a mark, and himself trying desperately not to weep also, he was after all eleven and almost a man, but he could not stop the tears from falling. The King looked pityingly at his young nephew and niece, standing in front of him, cold, frightened and grieving most desperately for the loss of their mother and father. He stood and walked down the steps from his throne and gathered the sobbing pair into his arms, soothing them with that beloved rumble of a voice and loved them.

Eomer was now sixteen and had just grown out of that gangly stage when he felt he was all elbows and legs, and he was now tall and strong indeed he was taller than his cousin Theodred the crown prince who was thirteen years his senior, although there was still the promise of more muscle and strength to come to his frame as the years would surely bring. He was fair of face and caused not a few maidens’ pulses to raise when he passed by, although girl’s to him were a strange alien race, all giggles and whispers whenever he was in their midst.

At that particular moment his heart sang within him as there were no more lessons that day and his sister was being kept busy by the noble ladies of the court, which she would hate, he thought, and would surely complain about it to him later that evening in the great hall. Eomer had made plans to ride to the Entwade with three of his friends and enjoy the freedom of the day, feeling secure and safe in their own lands.

He walked down to the stable where his horse Cramleof was stabled and started to saddle him, he had a water skin and food from the kitchens to take for the ride and he was soon joined by his friends, Eothum, Deowine and Gordeph, they had their horses ready and had walked to the royal stables to meet Eomer.

“Greetings and well met, my friends,” said Eomer smiling at his companions.

They all gave a small bow to Eomer in reverence to his status.

“Shall we start, the sun is past its high and we will ride away from its heat, for the sake of the horses,” said Eothum.

“Aye”, answered Deowine, “A good ride to the river to cool down and back at our leisure.”

“Oh, a moment my friends”, Eomer suddenly slapped his hand on his forehead,” I didst not inform anyone at the palace as to my whereabouts this day and I know my uncle wouldst be most displeased if I did not relate this, I will not be too long, I need only find someone to pass the message on to the king,” he dashed off from the stables at a fast sprint much to the amusement of his companions. He knew from past experience if he did not relate his plans for the day a severe scolding would be in order and maybe the loss of a few privileges. The last time found Eomer quaking in front of his uncle, hearing his loud voice shouting at him and half expecting a blow   from his uncles’ mighty hand, so angry had he been.

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In the halls of Meduseld the new councillor was pacing around with cat like tread, he came across so many unexpected conversations that way, and such talk could only serve his master well. He had been born in the Mark, indeed his father Galmod had been a close friend of the King in their youth, and it was for that reason that Theoden had appointed Grima to the high position he now held. He was a patient man, plans were forever formulating and reformulating within the machine of his mind. He had only to be careful and not over confident and the fruits of his schemes would come to fruition….one day.

He heard footsteps rushing into the hall and spun around to see the young Lord Eomer dash through the door gasping for breath and looking round wildly.

“Greetings, Grima”.

“Greetings, my lord,” Grima replied with a slight sneer.

“I wouldst ask you to pass a message to the King, would you be so kind,” Eomer asked politely, “I am riding out to the Entwade with some friends and will be back for evening meal.” Eomer garbled out his message as quickly as possible knowing his companions were chomping at the bit waiting for his return so they could get out onto the plains and enjoy the day, he rushed back out as soon as he had delivered his message.

Grima watched him go a, small smile curled on his lips, as Eomer raced back down the hill to mount up and he saw them gallop off out of the city and were soon out of sight. He continued his pacing round the corridors, silent as night, ever watchful, like a spider awaiting within its web.

He arrived outside the council chambers where the King was talking to some of his captains and heralds and waited until he was seen.

“Greetings, Grima,” bellowed the King, his deep voice echoing down the corridors, “Have you any tidings for the meeting today, good or bad?”

“Nay, majesty, I have no news or messages to bring this day,” answered Grima, bowing slightly.

“Good, good, then lets to business.” The King entered the chambers followed by his councillors and the afternoons’ discussions began in earnest.

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Eomer and his friends rode swiftly, the wind in their faces, the sun on their backs, enjoying the freedom and elation of being at one with the land and the feel of a fine horse under their command. It took a couple of hours before they sighted the Entwade and allowed the horses to slow down and walk at their own pace. Eventually they reached a good spot where the horses could be watered and the friends could relax and enjoy a rest. The horses were unsaddled and loosely tethered, enough slack given so they could reach shade, grass and water and wander not a little.

The food they had brought was soon unpacked and they sat together eating and drinking from the water skins, and they soon relaxed, the hot sun beating down, the land calm and quiet.

Suddenly Deowine spoke, “This will make us feel more at home.” He stated, producing two bottles of elvish wine from within his saddlebags.

“Where in the Mark did you get them from?” asked Eothum.

“From my mothers pantry” he replied, chuckling.

“Will you not get into trouble taking them,” asked Eomer.

“Possibly, but I hid some things to cover where they sat on the shelf,” Deowine laughed.

“Hurry up and open them then,” Gordelph said hastily,” my throat is dry as dust.” They all laughed as the bottles were opened and merrily did they drink from the bottles heeding not any possible dangers which could be upon them.

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Theodred rode swiftly with his Eored, he was on patrol and had been out of Edoras for some days, not a sign, scent or rumour of orc had been sighted. This made the prince not just a little bit nervous, things had been too quite as of late, not that he wanted to lose any more good riders under his leadership, he was afraid that something more brutal and unexpected was about to happen. They stopped for a light lunch by a fast flowing stream, taking turns to guard the area, fast riders were already out spying the land ready to report back to their lord, if any sightings were made of the enemy. The men chattered softly to each other about many things, wives, children, sweethearts and of course the horses they tended and bred.

Theodred ever alert noticed a dust cloud in the distance rushing towards the troop, he stood up craning his eyes to make out who was hurtling towards them, it was Hammas, one of his outriders. The rest of the Eored noticed their Lord and stood beside him to await the rider reaching them. He rode in haste so the news must be grave indeed, eventually Hammas reached the company, he jumped down from his horse, hastily scanning the crowd of riders until his sight fell on his prince

“My lord,” he gasped, “Orcs!”

Theodreds eyes narrowed ominously, “Where, Hammas?”

“On the outskirts of the Entwood riding to the Entwade, a  party of about fifty, my lord.”

“To arms,” shouted Theodred to his Eored, he sent a fast rider back to Edoras to warn and inform the king of an imminent orc attack, then they quickly packed up their small camp and remounted their horses and rode swiftly to follow the trail of their most hated enemy.