Chapter Three.

The night was quiet, the only sounds audible were the stomping of horses hooves, the low voices of the riders talking together and the muffled sobs of a child. Theodwyn rose silently and paced the tent they were to sleep in that night and tried to soothe the distressed youngster, whispering comforts at the same time as trying to talk to her husband…

“I didst pack it..”

“Well ‘tis not in here..”

“We will get no rest until…”

“I will look to the packhorses…”

“Be swift, husband, lest the whole camp is astir this night..”

Eomund kissed his wife swiftly and walked to the flap on the large tent he shared with his wife and children and felt the night air cool him as he walked outside. He obtained a flaming brand and walked in the direction of the makeshift stabling area where the horses were tethered for the night.

One of the night guards spotted him and swiftly ran to his side, “My lord marshal,” he stammered, “Is there ought I can assist you with.”

“Nay,” Eomund brushed him aside and continued his task. He had reached the area and began to look through the packs, muttering under his breath as he rummaged, his temper becoming more fraught as he searched. Finally in the last bag Eomund gave a sigh of relief when he had found that for what he was seeking and began to walk back to his sleeping area.

The riders had been informed that the marshal was about the camp and many eyes and ears looked to his safety. But it was with much amusement on the faces of the escort as the powerful Chief Marshal walked back to his wife and children holding in his hand a small tow haired doll.

Breddar approached, “Is all well, my lord?” he inquired, trying valiantly not to smirk.

Eomund smiled grimly back and brandished the doll, “Aye, it is now. We all may get some sleep once this has been returned to my daughter.”

                 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The previous morning Eomer had stood in front of his home, mouth agape, eyes staring at the sight before him. A company of the King’s royal guard were mounted and ready to perform their duty. They were dressed in full battle armour bearing the standard and emblem of the house of Eorl. The morning sun glinting off their shields’ and the black plumes from their helmets were being stirred slightly by the warm wind. They were to act as honour guard and protection for the princess Theodwyn and her children. One of those being an excited eight year- old boy, of whom was most impressed by the sight before him. One of Eomer’s greatest delights was to watch the departure and sometimes arrival of his fathers Eored, but his eyes took in this new sight and he was utterly captivated.

Eomer remembered little of his uncle’s last visit, only that he was kind and loving, and it was a splendid thing to be lifted into his arms and listen to his deep booming voice. He had been so excited the seven-days preceeding the journey that his parents had despaired of him sleeping ever again.

For the first three nights he had woken at all hours of the night and dashed noisily into their chambers asking questions about Edoras and the forthcoming journey. Eventually this gave cause for Eomund to lose his temper and he had shouted quite harshly at his son, fearing only for his wife’s disturbed rest. He had regretted this act almost immediately when he saw the lads’ downcast face and watery eyes.

Therefore in the morn Eomund had decided on a new action and had taken Eomer to the stables every eve before bed, to help with the horses and checking the tack for their trip. This extra activity had helped to tire him out and thus enabling a full nights sleep. Although he was still up before dawn, bursting with energy.

The day of travel arrived and Eomund himself and twelve of his best riders rode as extra protection. Nothing in Middle Earth would have made Eomund leave the care and protection of his family in other hands than his own. They were his life.

The management and care of the East-fold was left in the capable hands of his most trusted captain, Erwin. They had been boy-hood friends and had fought together on many occasions. The pack- horses were ready and lady Theodwyn was mounted on her mare, Eowyn before her on the saddle. It was suggested that she make the journey in a small cart due to her health, but she flatly and stubbornly refused and even Eomund who knew his wife keenly, bit his tongue and asked not again.

Eomund was mounted on Windstorm, and Eomer was on his own steed, a pony suited to his age and size whom Eomer had named Helm after the favourite of his ancestors. Eomer was a most adept rider, having been schooled by his father, and the skills he showed for horsemanship were very advanced for his years. His proud father looked down upon his young son as he rode next to him, well protected within the inner circle of the Eored.

Eomund rode to the front of the riders and called out, “Eolingas, to the King, his deep voice announced.

He rode back to the centre to ride next to his wife and children and the host left the safety of the Aldburg to ride across the grasslands and plains to Edoras, chief city of the Riddermark.

                       ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

So, after his daughter had fallen to sleep at last, Mthilda clutched to her, Eomund lay next to his wife and held her closely. Eomer was snuggled in his blankets, a small smile on his face from the excitement of the ride and forthcoming journey. All slept well that first night, save Eomund. His thoughts were on the many dangers of which could befall the escort, he would neither rest nor sleep properly ‘til his family were safely esconced in Meduseld.

The days were warm and the party encountered no dangers on their outgoing trip. Theodwyn seemed to regain a little colour from the ride and being out in the fresh air, of which Eomund had noticed, but still his worries for her health were rife.

Every night that they camped, Eomer had been bursting himself to help, and soon came under the notice of the Kings escort. They were much taken with this young son of the house of Eorl, his enthusiasm to assist the men, even when the tasks were too difficult; his love and loyalty to his mother and father; and especially the care and devotion he showed to his younger sister.

Soon in the distance on the horizon could be glimpsed the glint of gold, shining from the immense roof of the Golden Hall. Eomund had sent a messenger to inform the king of their imminent arrival and all looked forward to sleeping on soft beds and enjoying good food and ale, and the meeting of close kin.

From the outer gates to the city a small party of riders emerged, prince Theodred riding at its head to greet and honour the visit of his Royal aunt and her children. The two groups of riders neared and soon there was much joy and greeting as kin embraced kin.

Eowyn shied away from her big cousin and totally hid her face within the pleats and folds of her mother’s riding dress. Eomer grinned at Theodred, remembering the ride they had shared together upon Feyerth, and giggled as he felt himself being lifted from his pony and snuggled close to his kin upon the mighty grey war horse.

As they neared the city gates Eomund reached over and placed Eomer back upon Helm, leaving Theodred chuckling as to his young cousins naming of his steed, and together the royal party rode into the mighty city of the Horse-Lords.

It seemed that the entire city had been informed as to the return of their beloved white lady and her family, the streets were packed with good wives and many tradesmen as the party made its way up through the myriad streets to the royal stables. The crowds waved and cheered when their Princess came into view. Eowyn was frightened and clutched her Mama close at the sight and noise of the welcome, as for Eomer, well, his dark eyes tried to take everything in at once.

He had never seen so many people; children running alongside cheering and laughing; merchants plying their wares from the busy streets; riders, enjoying well- earned ease from patrols, drinking from the many inns within the city. Eomund looked down fondly as his son took in all these new sights and sounds and laughed out loud when he saw the boys face as they neared the royal stables.

“Father…” he pointed.

“Yes, my son,” laughed Eomund, “We stable the horses there and then make our way to Meduseld, to the king.”

The royal stables in Edoras were the biggest and grandest that Eomer had ever seen, or would ever see in his lifetime. They were so large that the house of Eomund could be placed within its perimeter. All the nobility of Rohan stabled therein and the tired party reined in their mounts as at least a dozen stable lads ran out to assist and help with the horses.

The stable master, Tilden, approached and bowed his reverence to the party, Eomund led Windstorm himself, and settled him in a loose stall, with Theodwyns mare and Helm.

“Hailsa and welcome home, my lady,” Tilden bowed to the princess, “’Tis good to see you again.”

“Thank you, Tilden,” Theodwyn smiled back, “It has been too long, old friend.”

Tilden had had the honour of teaching the lady Theodwyn to ride when she was but a girl, and he was much esteemed in Meduseld. He barked his orders to the stable-boys as the area teemed with activity.

Eomund led his family to the steps of which would take them to the courtyard of the palace itself, Eomer lagging behind looking over his shoulder taking in the sights and smalls of the city below him.

Theoden himself met them not in the halls but rushed out to greet his sister in the courtyard. The guards stood tall and proud as their lord passed by and brother and sister embraced and cared not who would think it unseemly. He then looked to her face and the paleness of her skin froze him for an instant.

“Brother,” boomed Theodred as he and Eomund embraced, their eyes meeting briefly in unspoken fear, “And where are your small charges,” he inquired looking round for the siblings.

“Eomer,” he picked his nephew up and held him close,” Bema, but you have grown boy, did I not say once you would outstrip your sire, I will prove right one day I swear.” He spoke jovially, trying to mask his emotions upon seeing how frail his dear sister appeared. “And this must be little Eowyn, why sister she has your look at that age, has she not?” Said Eowyn threw herself into her Mama’s arms and trembled slightly at this new voice.

Servants had taken the travelling chests into the halls and stowed them into the guest chambers, while Theodred led his aunt and cousins inside to refresh, leaving the brothers-in-law to their own conversation.

“I understand your concerns, brother, thank you for bringing her home.”

“I brought my wife for healing and rest, my king, and when this is achieved, I will take her and my family home to Aldburg.” Eomund snapped.

“Aye, brother, I spoke hastily through love, and we both love her do we not,” answered Theoden.

“Yes, my king, we do. I would but see her well again.” He sighed and briefly covered his eyes with one hand.

“Come inside, for you are wearied, and please forgive a doting brother.”

Eomund bowed briefly as he felt the kings’ hand grasp his shoulder in mute sympathy as they walked together into the halls.

TBC.