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For Rohan Lord Éomer summoned us at midnight. Scouts had warned of an orc host descending the East Wall; orcs pledged to Saruman and Mordor. That which we most feared had come to pass. He spoke passionately: “I do not command you to ride with me – I ask that you do so. We will ride without King Théoden’s leave – but we ride for Rohan. Will you join me?” Would I join him? I had eyes to see, and ears to hear. I had seen the shadow that had fallen upon King Théoden – and I had heard the evil whispers of Gríma. I had seen the shadow that had slowly crept across the land of Rohan. Around me, my companions brandished their swords, cheering and pledging allegiance – allegiance to Éomer, not Théoden. Another rider, Gárulf, glared at me. He was both a companion and a friend. “Well? Do you ride or not?” he demanded. I nodded, but this decision was not mine alone. I looked to my other companion, my horse. “Well, Arod? What say you? Do we ride for glory?” With a snort, he agreed. So with high hearts and high hope, the éored of Éomer rode into the night. For Rohan.
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This one is for Elvenesse (Kate) who requested the Rohirrim. |
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