Eomer and his friends sat by the stream, the two bottles of wine long gone, a lethargy from the hot sun, the long ride and the wine drifted through his veins, if he was not careful, he would be asleep in no time, and that would not do, not out in he open like this. He forced himself to stand up and walked to the river and splashed cold water over his head and neck the more to rouse himself from his drifting, he eyed the other three, Deowine was prone on the grass, already asleep and snoring softly. Eomer filled his helm with water and crept over to him and poured the water over his slumbering form. Deowine sprang up in shock and on spotting a guilty Eomer threw himself at him causing both of them to roll down the bank and fall into the river. Luckily it was not too deep there and they both came to the surface coughing and spluttering, Eothum and Gordeph were doubled over with laughter on the bank.

Eomer and Deowine dragged themselves out of the river and collapsed on each other with mirth, when suddenly Eomer froze and his head shot up and he looked around as if someone or something was approaching.

“What is it Eomer? What have you heard?” asked Eothum.

“I know not,” he replied, “I have a sense and foreboding that I have never felt before.”

“You think, maybe, that we are in danger and should return to Edoras?” Gordeph whispered looking round the plains with panic in his eyes.”

They looked at Eomer with awe waiting for his reply, he was after all the son of one of the greatest warriors and Marshals ever known in the Mark and such tendencies were ever passed down to their offspring. The youths were armed only lightly, they would have never left the city without at least carrying some means of protection. They all wore thick leather over jerkins, had light helms on their heads and carried weapons, only short swords and daggers to be sure but enough to protect them from any wild beast that may be in the vicinity. Long they had been at practice on the use of such weapons, all the menfolk of the Mark were trained thus, it was a need, for the protection and safety of the people, their lands and indeed their own way of life, but they were also untried in the field of battle, deemed too young and inexperienced to join the Eoreds and fight with more seasoned warriors.

Eomer spoke after a short while, “ I am not sure, my friends, methinks though we should be returning to the city before anything might befall us, we will follow the river downstream to cover our scent and muffle the sounds and then turn to home from the rapids.”

Even at such a young age, his companions agreed and obeyed Eomer’s orders, he was a natural leader and would one day be one of the best warriors and fighters in the Mark, indeed a son and nephew to be proud of. They quickly packed up their gear and saddled the horses not talking overmuch but listening and being alert to any dangers. Soon they were mounted and made ready to set off when a loud cry made them spin round and about a dozen orcs stood on a small hillock, snarling and emitting bloodcurdling threats to the youths. Before they could either respond or pick up a weapon the orcs fired their bows and one of the arrows shot Eomer’s horse Cramleof in the chest causing him to collapse to the ground and taking Eomer with him. On pure Rohirric instinct and also being well taught by his Father, Eomer rolled on impact with the ground thus causing himself no harm, but Cramleof was mortally wounded much to Eomer’s dismay. The horse whickered and his screaming neighs filled the air around them drowning out the war cries from the orcs bearing down on the four youngsters.

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The watch on the gate towers of Edoras saw the out rider galloping hastily towards the mighty city of the Horselords, and  they knew from the speed of the rider that the news could be grave. The gatewards opened the smaller door into the city recognizing the rider as Rawtern from Theodred’s Eored.

Rawtern swung down from his horse and approached the doors of Meduseld itself, where he was shown in almost immediately. He was led the way to the council chambers, where the King was still convening a meeting with his advisors and captains. A herald knocked on the oaken door and announced the arrival of Rawtern.

Rawtern strode a few steps to the head of the table and bowed to the King in the Rohirric way, and knelt on the floor in front of his Lord.

“Rise, Rawtern and convey your news, grave though it might be,” rumbled the King in his deep voice.

“Majesty,” gasped the exhausted rider, “I bring news and tidings from the Lord Theodred, a large party of orcs have been spotted coming from the direction of the Entwood and following the course of the Entwade, my Lord Theodred is to give chase and battle to destroy these creatures, but there may be more and he has sent me and other riders to warn the city and outlying settlements of the news and to prepare for possible attack.”

“My thanks, loyal Rawtern,” answered the King, “rest you now and refresh yourself.”

“Nay Theoden King, I must ride back to the fray to fight and support my Prince.”

Theoden smiled at the loyalty shown to his son and heir from the riders of his Eored.

“Yes, but first a bite and sup whilst you stand and a fresh horse before you ride back to the fray.” The rider nodded his aquiescence, and bowed again before leaving the chambers to seek his repast. The councillors all started talking at once about this news and the effects it could have on the mark, Grima was strangely quiet, a small frown on his face, a look of uncertainty and contemplation.

The King and council soon reconvened to talk over this new attack on their lands and people.

“No one is to ride out until we are sure the dangers are past, keep the women and children safe behind the gates of Edoras until such time.” Ordered the King, and then spun around as he heard a woman’s frantic voice imploring to seek audience with him. He stood and left the council chamber immediately to where his guards were trying to hold back a flustered and panic driven woman close to tears with desperation. He recognized her as the widow of one of his late captains who had died in an orc attack protecting and serving his King and The Mark.

“Guards, release her,” he barked, “Pylene, is it not? What troubles you good woman that I can assist with.” The king asked kindly.

Pylene approached the king and curtsied deeply before gathering her senses and courage to speak to the King about her fears.

“Majesty,” she gasped, “Please forgive this intrusion, but I am sore afraid, I heard the news that orcs have been sighted by the Entwade, Lord my only son Gordeph has ridden there earlier today with some friends, he is young yet Lord and has not the experience to battle as had his late father, and I would be grateful if you could see to his safe return.”

“Of course, good woman,” replied the King, “We have a rider who will be returning to the fray and will convey this news to the Prince, but say which other of his companions were to ride with him this day so that I may relay news to their families also.”

“My Lord, two of the others have Fathers in the Eored, Eothum son of Eothred and Deowine son of Deomund, I speak for the mothers also,” answered Pylene.

“But what of the third, who is he?”

Pylene frowned a little at the Kings question, “But surely you know my lord, the third is your nephew the young Lord Eomer.”

The King stared back at the townswoman, his face went a deathly white, but from fear and anger it was at that moment hard to tell.

The king’s councillors glanced at each other fearfully not knowing how their Lord would react to this news, as up to that time no one knew the whereabouts of Eomer, presuming he was safe within the walls of the city.

The King’s voice rang out loud and clear, “Did no one know my nephew was outside the city walls until this hour?”

“Nay, my Lord, we knew not where he may be this day.” They replied.

Pylene was escorted from the audience chamber with a promise that all possible would be done for the safe return of her son and all the missing youths.

Rawtern was summoned back into the King’s presence, he bowed before his King and awaited his words and orders.

“You will ride back to my son and report that we acknowledge his news and plans for the demise of our enemy, Rawtern,” he stated, “But you must also relate this to him, four youths rode to the Entwade this day, two of them have Fathers known to you, Eothred and Deomund, one being the son of the late Captain Eodelph and the last being my nephew and cousin to the Prince, Eomer son of Eomund. They may be in grave danger, being as yet untried and untested in battle and being also scantily equipped for warfare of this sort. You will apprise my son of this news, inform the fathers who ride in the Eored …” he paused and lowered his voice, “Please bring my nephew back safely.”

The king then marched out of the chambers, his face set and grave. He was angry, more than that, he was furious. He could not believe that Eomer had left without informing someone as to his plans, especially after the last time he left the city with his friends. True they had not gone far and it was only to go bird watching but by the time Eomer arrived back in Meduseld, half the riders had been summoned to search for him and the King and Theodred were frantic with worry and concern. He had scolded his nephew and knew he had frightened him which was why he was bitterly disappointed that four years on Eomer had disobeyed his strict orders.

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Theodred and his Eored were riding at full gallop down the course of the river Entwade to meet full on with the renegade band of orcs and destroy them. He had sent scouts out in all directions to relay any news back to him. Two of them were riding towards the Eored, he called a halt and waited for the scouts to reach them.

The two men dismounted from their horses and bowed to the prince.

“What news, Hammas?” barked Theodred “Speak!”

“My lord prince, the enemy has been sighted, a few leagues down river, they are well armed but have not picked our scent up yet, I deem, we can take them by surprise,” he replied.

Theodred smiled grimly and ordered his Eored into two halves to ride down to meet the orcs taking them by both sides at once to prevent any to escape and to destroy them all.

They rode like the wind, hooves pounding the earth, intent on their quarry. The orcs were soon aware of their pursuers and tried to flee across the fast flowing river only to find both banks held by the Rohirrim. The number was greater than originally stated by the scouts, others had joined the attack but they were no match for the warriors of Rohan who slew them with ease and chased the fleeing, trying to escape the battle. When all was over and the orcs carcases were burnt on a pyre and the wounded were tended, Theodred ordered an immediate search of the vicinity, in case any had escaped their nets.

There had been no fatalities and only light wounds, Theodred ordered a rest and kept a watch on the camp while they waited for the scouts to return with any information.

Soon a rider was seen in the distance hurrying to them but it was not one of the scouts, he was riding from Edoras itself and could only be Rawtern bringing a message from the King.

He stopped in front of Theodred and bowed to his Prince, “My Lord, I have related our news to the King and he has put the city on alert. I also have bare grave tidings. Young Lord Eomer left the city this morning without the King’s knowledge, three friends rode with him, to ride to the Entwade, but no word of his present whereabouts is now known. I am to inform Eothred and Deomund as their sons are with him and also the son of the late Eodelph, of your Eored.”

Theodred looked shocked as he listened to this new news, he too like his Father was surprised that Eomer had left Edoras without relating his intentions. He remembered the last time when this had happened. Eomer was only twelve and had gone off on a jaunt with some friends, he  had only just stopped his intense grieving for his mother and father and Theodred had been glad he was coming out of his shell a little, but his father had been furious and had severely reprimanded his young cousin, bringing him almost to tears with his rage and fury. He knew his father was concerned for his nephews safety and loved him like a son, in remembrance to his dearly beloved sister. Theodred had comforted Eomer that time and had dried his tears which had spilt over after the dressing down his father had given him. He had explained why it was important to tell someone as to his whereabouts if leaving the safety of the city. Eomer had sobbed in his beloved cousin’s comforting embrace and promised never to do the same ever again. Theodred found it hard to believe that his young cousin had disobeyed his uncle in this.

He quickly informed the fathers of the other two friends who were also immediately worried and troubled over the safety of their sons. They hastily made plans to seek for the youths, though their hearts were heavy with the thought that the orcs just might have found them first and vented their glee on finding easy prey.

As they had rode down from the north of the Entwade and had not passed any signs of orcs and missing boys, they decided to ride further south to seek for further signs. Scouts were again sent back up the trail in case they had missed them in their hasty gallop to the battle.

After about an hours ride the Eored came upon the signs of a rough camp, there were hoof marks and signs of booted feet at least four different kinds, but there were also other tracks, footprints that could have been only made from orcs coming towards the camp from the north, but any signs of the boys there were none. Hearts were heavy as they observed the signs and tried to picture what had occurred near the waters edge. A shout from behind a low hillock made Theodred run over to the sound of his rider’s call, he paled at what he saw. Lying dead on the ground was the body of a horse, pierced through the chest with orc arrows, he knelt by the horses body and bowed his head low, his shoulders shuddering….it was Cramleof, Eomer’s horse.