Orcs and Babes

He had ridden long and hard, his horse was near exhausted but still bravely carried his rider, only the knowledge that he was but an hour from the Aldburg and safety kept Beorwine going, aye, and if truth be told, a warm bed and mug of ale also. He was the bearer of grim tidings, sent by Leowulf, chief of a small town on the borders. He knew the news would be unwelcome but necessary. Large parties of orcs had been sighted and innocent blood had been shed. Lord Eomund must be informed for the protection of all in his care in the East Mark

Beorwine paused to check over his shoulder and scan the horizon, before he pressed his horse on further and faster with words of encouragement, his faithful steed complying instantly and with total trust.

Within the hour he was being hailed at the gates and welcomed into the township. The sweat and foam covering his horses’ flanks showed as to his haste to reach his destination. The sight of this brought many curious townsfolk from their various places of work, casing many tongues to wag as to the hurried arrival of this rider from the borders.

Beorwine instantly dismounted and handed his horse into the care and protection of the stable master. He knew, as did all Rohirrim, that wherever in the Mark they would travel their horses would be well tended. He leant wearily for a minute on his horse, stroking the great flanks and whispering his thanks as to relaying both to safety. Galdor gently led the tired beast into a loose stall and attended his needs.

As Beorwine walked from the stable he was hailed by Breddar, the two Rohirrim were of an age and had drawn swords together on a few occasion. Both grinned as they approached each other.

“Hailsa, friend, it is good to meet with you again,” said Beorwine.

“And also with you, hailsa and welcome, you have ridden hard and must be ready for a bite and sup,” answered Breddar, as they grasped each other’s forearms, before embracing heartily.

“Both will be welcome, but I have news that cannot delay any longer, news that must be related forth with to the Marshal,” gasped Beorwine, still slightly out of breath from his energetic ride. “Is the Lord Eomund within,” he asked nodding to the well guarded halls.

“Aye, he is, come with me and I will have you announced,” Breddar answered with a small frown as they walked towards the halls of the marshal. That he was the bearer of ill tidings, went through Breddar’s mind as they approached the large oaken doors.

Eomund was in his study when a knock on his door announced the arrival of the messenger from Leowulf.

“My lord Marshal,” spake the messenger, “I convey grave tidings from Lord Leowulf.” Beorwine bowed low as he passed a scroll to Eomund. He unwrapped the torn parchment and read the hastily scrawled message.

“Rider, when didst the orcs attack the herdsfolk,” Eomund asked with a stern look on his face, his eyes icy cold.

“But, two nights ago Lord, I was dispatched almost instantly to seek for your aid.”

“On which you and your chief will have, my kinsman,” answered Eomund with a grim smile. “But say, you have ridden hard and must needs to take your ease and refresh yourself, Beorwine, you will find food and drink in the halls.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Beorwine bowed his acknowledgment and walked wearily to one of the tables where he was served almost instantly with a plate of food and large mug of ale.

Eomund called for Breddar to assemble the Eored, it would leave within the hour. He would meet to council with his captains but not before he had relayed the news to his beloved wife Theodwyn.

Theodwyn had settled both her offspring down for the night. Eomer, lay fast asleep in his bed, one hand still clutching the hilt of his sword, gentle resistance was met as she gently drew it forth, in its place she lay a small grey woollen horse. In his sleep Eomer reached out to clutch this toy and cuddled it close. He may be the son of a mighty warrior, but he was still a little boy, needing to be loved and comforted by familiar things Long had this toy been a favourite and many the night he had been tearful and not slept ere it was found and placed in his possession again.

Eomund found her thus, sat by the bedside of his son, watching as he slept, the sound of his breath barely audible. He stood a while watching, etching to memory the sight before him, a sight of which was to return to his mind some years later…… upon a grim day when he and his small party of riders were ambushed by orcs.

Theodwyn looked at him with a smile, which soon vanished when she saw the expression in her husband’s eyes.

“Is there trouble, beloved, do you have to ride?” Tears formed in her eyes as Eomund wrapped his arms around his wife and embraced her.

“Aye, sweetling,” he answered, with a gentle kiss atop her head, “We ride to the aid of Leowulf.”

A gasp escaped from Theodwyns lips, “The herds…”

“Orcs have attacked the borders, a large party. I wilst know more when I get there, the Eored rides within the hour.”

Long minutes were spent just holding each other. Both husband and wife knew the dangers of such sorties, it was their way of life, but it still did not make the leaving any easier.

The riders had gathered, near all the town was astir to watch the departure and with a deafening thunder of hooves the Eored galloped out of the gates and headed towards the borders and to the aid of Leowulf.

Theodwyn stood like a statue watching the riders disappear into horizon, until it was too dark for her to see more. She shivered and her maid tentatively suggested she return into the halls ere she took a chill. She let herself be persuaded to return to the warmth and comfort of the halls. The evening meal was rather a sombre affair, there were songs but of rather a mournful sort. Groups sat whispering and talking over the news from the borders, all were hopeful that this engagement would be carried out without too much risk of harm to their loved ones.

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Eomer woke up at dawn, he lay in his bed awhile thinking over the previous day. He had had a lot of fun with his Papa. They had ridden long and fast and his father had let him hold the reins of Windstorm so Eomer had actually been in control of the grey charger. And he had let Eomer unbuckle the saddle and put the blanket on when they had returned to the stable. Even Galdor said he was getting bigger and would be a great rider some day, when he was older. Then he would ride Windstorm himself, ride next to Papa in his Eored, ride to slay all enemies and be a hero of the Mark.

Excitedly he scrambled out of bed intent on dashing into his mother and father’s chambers to see if his Papa could take him out again that day. The large chamber was but dimly lit by a single candle, he stopped to peep into the cradle, his baby sister lay fast asleep her arms held high, little fists clenched by her head.

“Eomer, is that you?” he heard his Mama whisper.

“Mama,” cried Eomer, running and jumping onto the bed as Theodwyn wrapped her arms round him and he cuddled her back. He giggled as he felt tickly kisses on his belly, hearing his mother’s soft laughter joining his.

As he wriggled away from his Mama’s determined teasing, Eomer suddenly noticed the bed bereft of his father, causing him to sit up suddenly.

“Where is Papa?” he asked in a panicked voice

“He has had to ride to the borders.” his mother whispered back, trying to make her voice calm.

“He did not say good-bye.” sniffed Eomer, tears starting in his eyes.

“Oh yes he did, my own,” Theodwyn replied softly, “Whilst you were abed.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

Eomer, now subdued crawled back into his mothers’ arms, unhappy by this news, but determined to be brave. As he lay thus, his thoughts drifted yet again to the previous day and to the story his Papa had told him.

“Will there be orcs …?” his whispered.

Theodwyn held him closer, “Yes, my own, I fear there may be.” She kissed him lightly in reassurance.

Eomer scowled fiercely, he did not like orcs, not after what his Papa had told him. He hoped they would all be killed and when he was older he would kill them himself.

Eowyn chose that moment to start to wail for a feed, Theodwyn momentarily unclasped herself from her first born to tend to the needs of her daughter. As she sat on the bed again Eomer snuggled close watching intently as his mother slid the shoulder of her nightgown down so that Eowyn could latch on to her full breast. He smiled at the sound of suckling, eyes never leaving his sisters face.

Papa had told him yesterday that he had had a little sister, his own Mama had died at her birth, she was six years old and he was ten summers older. And one day he had been hunting with his father Deor and when they returned home, his sister had been slain by orcs. Eomer had gasped at this news, noticing the sadness on his Papa’s face as he told him, not missing the tears that formed in his dark eyes as he remembered his loss all those years past.

His Papa told him how dangerous orcs were, that they were the enemy of Rohan and a threat to everyone living there, especially children. Wise children never left their homes without an adult present….just in case. Eomer’s eyes had widenend at this news, remembering the events of the previous day and feeling a little shamed at what he had done.

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What Eomund had not told his young son was that the body of his young sister had never been found, though he and his father had searched and searched for many long hours. His own father had never recovered from the shock of this loss, and was never the same man after that day. Eomund had tended him and looked to the family home, though but a young man himself. He had hated orcs with an intensity ever since that fateful day and had sworn vengeance on any who had crossed his path, and had slain countless without mercy.

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Eomer could not play outside that long day, the sky was grey and rain clouds hovered over all, drenching the land with their showers. He happily played in his mothers’ chambers, toy horses and wooden building blocks scattered about the floor, whilst Theodwyn was about her duties in the halls, attending to the needs of the people whilst her Lord was absent.

Eowyn woke from her nap and started to flail her arms and cluck gently. Eomer stopped to listen and stood up to walk to the cradle, looking down upon his little sister. She cooed at him and smiled gummily at the shadow of a face over her. Eomer smiled back and reached a hand to gently tickle her, ‘no orc would get HIS sister’ he thought, “I will look after you Eowyn,” he whispered, “Papa and I will kill every orc in Rohan”! And he showed her his sword to prove this.

Thodwyn watched from the doorway, smiling at the intervention from brother to sister, a tear slowly rolling down her face in her joy at the sight.

A sibling bond had been formed, albeit slowly, but Theodwyn was under no illusions that there would still be much mischief between her two babes as they grew, that much was certain, but at this moment in time her heart ached with the love she saw before her.

The End.

A/N. This ends the first part of the childhood of Eomer. Be prepared for a sequel that will jump four years in time. Thank you to all who have reviewed, I do appreciate it