Much to Legolas' disappointment he was unable to procure a bride for his friend Mardil ere their departure two mornings later, though whether Mardil were relieved or saddened by this not even Cirien could tell.  They said their farewells to the three great knights, and to Lady Lalanath and her two sons, at the gates of the wall of Amon Din; all round them were courtiers, and merchants, and housewives, and children, and farmhands upon their shaggy drafts, cheering and waving, and some of the more adventurous cast flower petals beneath the hooves of the destriers.  Fastred was sad to go, for the sons of Aldamir were dear to him, and in their nursery he had found fleeting but joyful his return to childhood; Bandobras also regretted their departure, for the table of the Red Knight was well-known for its bounty, though he lamented the lack of dishes containing mushrooms.  But the Lord of Dol Galenehtar and his people were eager to depart; wide fields and rolling meads, dark woods and high hills awaited them and they would fain let the adventure wait.  So the Red Knight kissed them all in turn, promising to hold steady against Théalof and his machinations, and upon this affirmation they turned and followed the road out of the valley, and thence round the hill.

In deference to their horses and to their mortal friends, the Elves camped that night in Minrimmon Wood beneath the looming oaks which cast their hoary arms about them; the trunks and gnarled upthrust roots were cloaked in thick green moss, and the leaves were lush and dark, and rustled soothingly over Fastred's head while he drowsed beside Bandobras (who snored, and muttered in his sleep).  He could hear the soft murmur of the Elves' voices above him, and see the slight glimmer of pale light as they moved about the trees' heavy branches, and now and again he heard the snatch of song, or of light laughter.  The horses in their pickets whickered and shifted, and now and again Fastred heard the low hoot of an owl, or the warbling of a nightingale; sleep eluded him for a time, and he shifted upon the hard ground, wrapped in his wool blankets, and stretching his feet out toward the warmth of the fire.  The stars peeped coyly round the dark shifting leaves, or sparkled in some immortal downturned eye; it seemed to Fastred that the heavens and his Elvish friends alike watched over him, and thus reassured Fastred slept.

Thus they made their way through Anórien, trotting down the rocky track between Rohan and Gondor; at times they stopped at post-houses to catch up on the news, or saw the couriers on their swift steeds fly past with the wave of an arm, intent upon their destination. After the third day however Meivel, who had been riding point, turned his great cast-eyed warhorse and cantered back to his lord.  Taruku bared his teeth at Piukka and Karakse; Fastred's horse shied back, but Piukka knew full well he bore the Lord of Dol Galenehtar and snapped at the younger destrier.  Meivel swatted Taruku's ear and the horse rolled his mismatched eyes, but desisted.  Legolas clucked his tongue.

"I do think me, O Meivel, your new destrier to be as fierce a beast as my old Hatchet," he said, stroking Piukka's dark neck.  "If he mend but a little he shall be a fine horse indeed."

"He is too strong-willed," said Meivel sullenly, glaring at the back of his destrier's shaggy head.  "Rather should I have a gelding like unto Lord Fastred's here; Karakse is a good beast."

Legolas smiled, and looked to the west; then as his smile faded he said:  "Have you noticed, O my Meivel, how the post goes west but not east?  It is a curious thing, is it not, that letters travel only out of Gondor, and not to it?"

"I had noticed, my lord," admitted Meivel; "in fact it was that selfsame thought brought me back from point."

"Hm."  Legolas gazed westward, to the rolling hills flanking the long winding road, speckled with the dark bushy stands of trees.  The clouds roiled overhead in the turquoise dome, and far above them a falcon screamed, high and distant and lonely.  Taruku snorted and pawed at the ground; his huge feathered hooves dug up a great black furrow in the rich earth; Piukka, not to be outdone, let out a low bellow and tossed his great black head.  Legolas patted his horse's neck again, but absently.

"Meivel," he said at last; "go you to the end of the file, and instruct Himbaláth that the next courier attempting to overtake us shall be obstructed, and sent back to the last post-house, to inform the master there that the way is no longer secure, and further couriers ought to be arrested for their own safety." He looked seriously at his captain; his face was grave, and there was no sparkle of mirth in his gray eyes.  "Someone is waylaying the King's post."  Meivel regarded his lord with a piercing look, then soberly nodded and cantered to the end of the van.  Legolas urged Piukka into a trot, and Karakse eagerly complied, drawing close to his sire, his head proudly lifted; his black and white mane flowed from his great thick neck, and Fastred could see the muscles bunching and stretching beneath the glossy hair.  Piukka beside him was as of ebony, shining and dark and heavy, two hands his colt's height and though older equally as hale, and tried in battle; his brown eyes rolled and his black ears twitched, alert to any sound.  Fastred watched his rider; Legolas sat straight upon the black steed's bare back; his dark green tunic rippled in the stiff breeze and his flaxen hair floated back from his face, twining and flickering gold in the sunlight.  His expression was sober, and his eyes preoccupied, and now and again he worried with his teeth at his lower lip, as though deep in thought.  After a moment Fastred said tentatively:

"Lord Lassah – why are there no couriers coming down the Great West Road? And why do you want to stop any going to my uncle?"

Legolas looked down at him; his mouth twitched.  "Well," he said, "why do you think, my Fastred?"

Fastred applied himself to the question, digging round in his memory for some concept of equal gravity; all that came to mind was a rather disagreeable incident involving the sewers in Osgiliath, and his father's engineers' solution, unorthodox but efficacious. He asked slowly:  "Is it because the post is stopped up on the west end, and no letters are coming out of Rohan?"  When Legolas smiled encouragingly he added, "And you are stopping more couriers because you do not wish for whoever is apprehending the couriers to get any more letters, and you do not want the King's messengers to come to any harm."

"You will make a good king," said Legolas with satisfaction, and Fastred blushed.

Himbaláth turned four couriers back in the next two days.  They argued at first with him, but between Meivel's harsh words, and Legolas' undeniable authority, they relented and returned to their last posts, promising to pass the word along that all communication had stopped out of Rohan.  "Mark you well, though, O Green Knight and Rohan's champion," said one courier ere he left, calling back over his shoulder; "Gondor will not sanction such arbitrary action; the Steward in the King's absence will send soldiers forthwith."

"Tell Faramir to have patience," said Legolas offhandedly.  "There is no call to start a war with our closest neighbors and allies."  When the courier hesitated Legolas added with a laugh:  "Wish you to raise the ire of the Princess of Ithilien?  You are brave indeed, Post-Rider!"

The man flushed and said sullenly:  "I have never turned back from a task before; I am unused to failure."

"You live, and you bear tidings with you," Himbaláth pointed out cheerfully.  "That sounds not like failure to me. But then I am an Elf; perchance my standards are higher."  Thus consoled the courier turned back, but he did not appear sanguine about it.

They crossed the Mering Stream the fifth day out of Amon Din, their horses splashing noisily across the rocky ford.  The sunlight slanted through the dark trees, rough pines with spindly branches and low fragrant firs thick with glossy green needles.  The floor of the wood was carpeted in warm brown needles and their fragrance drifted up in the heavy moist air, pungent and spicy, and mingled with the scent of cold dirt and wet stone.  Hirilcúllas' palfrey Alfirin stirred up a handful of quail and they burst trilling from their hiding place in the thicket.  Andunië made an impatient noise behind them, and Legolas turned, his face split by a jolly smile.

"Fear not, O my huntsmistress!" he said cheerfully, laughing.  "You shall have your raptors in hand soon enough."

"It is the waste," grumbled Andunië; "all those good quail going free.  They were nice and fat too."

Hirilcúllas laughed, a musical sound, and several other Elves called out to Andunië, teasing her; Bandobras shook his head and said:  "O it is no use, Andunië; these fellows think of naught but the ride, and not of the meal at the end of it."

The Elves laughed at this, but Fastred thought to himself: "It is not the meal Andunië thinks of; it is the sight of the raptor stooping: That is what she misses."  And he thought of his goshawk then, and knew a portion of the sense of loss she felt.

They climbed up out of the stream bed and up the hill; the sun was westering and they were cloaked in blue shadow, though the sky overhead was brilliant and cloudless.  A strong wind blew from behind them, throwing their hair about their faces, and casting their cloaks about their hands.  The horses' hooves slipped on the steep wet slope, and all round them the Elves murmured their encouragement; one of them started to sing, a gay and lighthearted tune designed to cheer any who heard.  To Fastred's left one of the scouts, Romastáldë, laughed and began to sing along; behind him Tathársul took up the counterpoint and their voices twined together, soaring over the whistle of the wind, echoing round the rocks that hemmed them in and rising up over the shadows into the sunshine.  The top of the hill was just ahead, bathed in sunshine; it was so bright after the dim shadowy rocky hill that it made Fastred squint and turn his head.  Just as Meivel urged Taruku into the sunlight Fastred heard again the sound of a falcon calling out, far above them.

Everything seemed to happen at once.  Legolas and Andunië both cried out; Legolas shouted:  "Down!  Back!  Ware, Meivel!" and Andunië cried:  "Meivel! Come back, come back!"  Then Karakse shied, his eyes rolling; he leapt sideways and knocked against Romastáldë's steed; there was a whistle and thunk, and Himbaláth's horse went down with a squeal, thrashing; a black-feathered arrow protruded from its foreleg.  Himbaláth leapt from his destrier's back as it fell, and rolled to his feet with his halberd at ready; more whistles, and to Fastred's surprise Romastáldë raised his shield over Fastred's face so that he could see naught but the Elf's arm in its straps.  The arm shuddered and bucked as two loud thunks battered it, and Fastred heard Meivel give a terrible cry just as the sound of many men shouting filled the rocky valley.

Legolas gave a great shout, and ten Elves galloped behind him to the top of the hill, arrows strung and swords flashing. Fastred could see Meivel surrounded by men on horseback; his sword was drawn, and he was cursing, striking right and left with violent fury.  Bandobras pulled his pony up close to Fastred and drew his small sword; his face was grim.  "Ambushed!" he spat, as though he were disgusted; then the men charging down the hill clashed upon Legolas and his party, and things became very confusing.  Fastred saw Legolas swinging a halberd, striking one of the men; his opponent fell heavily, and the horse bolted; arrows whistled in all directions, from the men poised upon the ridge, and from Hirilcúllas and several other Elves arranged beside him; Andunië raised her hands above her head, and to Fastred's surprise began to sing, though just as he started to listen he heard Bandobras say:

"Draw your sword, you little fool!  Do you want them to kill you?"

Fastred was very frightened, but he drew his sword and held with his other hand to Karakse's saddle horn; his horse was snorting and shying, unused to the clamor of battle.  An arrow skidded off Romastáldë's escutcheon, held before the young prince, and Fastred could see Himbaláth standing before his writhing horse, raising aloft his halberd as the second wave of men came upon them.  The Elf looked very small and vulnerable standing there as the horses charged; his brilliant hair was dimmed in the shadows, and he stood alone.  However Andunië's song seemed to have had an unsettling effect upon their opponents, for their enemies' steeds were balking and slowing despite the riders' commands; it was an odd song, and made Karakse's ears twitch; Fastred could not tell but it seemed to him it told of rebellion and oppression and the desire to rid oneself of a heavy burden.  The man at the head of the charge slapped his reluctant horse's flank with the flat of his sword, and terrified it surged forward upon Himbaláth and within reach of his great halberd.  Fastred could see the muscles in the Elf's shoulders surge as he swung the mighty weapon.  With the curved edge the Elf hooked the horse beneath its jowl, slitting its throat and casting it to one side; as the dead horse fell its weight threw the man at Himbaláth, who on his backswing caught his enemy also at the throat, beheading him with a clean sweep so that the man's head flew several yards away.

"Fore!" crowed Bandobras, and kicking his pony's flanks galloped up to the Elf's aid; Himbaláth turned back to him, startled, his pale eyes confused, then the men dismounting charged, and Fastred was suddenly required for the first time to actively defend his own life.

It was horrible, and loud, and very hot; he parried a man's first blow clumsily, looking with terror into his enemy's eyes; the man's sword battered at him, but Himbaláth's training held true.  There was a horrible minute when Fastred felt he would fall from Karakse's back, for his destrier was frightened and kept trying to shy away; then at last Fastred gave a great heave and leant forward, striking as hard as he could, and to his surprise he looked down and saw his man fall, bloody and groaning.  Karakse let out a horrible bellow, and trod on the man's head, and then the man went still.

Through the noise Fastred heard Bandobras shout again:  "Don't kill them all, you silly Elves!  We need a few for questioning!"  Then another man came up to him, shouting, his face red with rage and blood, and Fastred ducked his first swipe and blocked the next; the man grasped him by the tunic and made to drag him from Karakse's back.  Fastred struggled, flailing with his sword; Karakse shied again, and Fastred lost his balance, falling upon the man.  Fortunately for Fastred, and quite unfortunately for his enemy, he fell sword-point-down, and to his great surprise Fastred discovered he had slain his second man.

He pushed himself off the body of the man upon his hands and knees, and looked around wildly; he saw his Lord Lassah upon the hill, wielding his halberd with terrible efficiency; the blood of his enemies ran down his legs and Piukka stood in a veritable pile of dead; he trampled and bit, slashing with hoof and tooth at the men who fain tried to kill him.  All round Legolas were Elves fighting, striking down the men who had attacked them.  Then he saw the men crying aloud with fright, and calling to retreat; they tried to scramble up the hill but the loose wet shingle impeded them, and the implacable Elves picked them off one by one.  As they fought to escape Legolas cried:  "Capture them!  Hold them back!"  And Romastáldë, Tathársul, and several others galloped off in pursuit.  Legolas glared round, his bloody halberd at the ready and his grey eyes flashing; he looked quite dangerous then, and Fastred was very glad he and Lord Lassah were on the same side.  Lassah dismounted and strode through the wreckage of bodies to him, and Fastred rose to his feet; he was surprised to find his knees were weak, and he was trembling; his stomach felt sick.

"Fastred!  Are you injured, Little One?" asked Legolas, dropping to one knee and subjecting Fastred to such an examination as he had thus far experienced only at the hands of his nurse, after falling from a tree upon his head and knocking himself unconscious; Legolas peered into his eyes, and felt round his head for lumps, and poked and prodded him to see if he had broken anything.  Fastred looked down at his tunic; it was splashed with blood, and the scent of it filled his nostrils.  He wanted to tell Lord Lassah that he was well, and that the men had not harmed him, but then his eyes fell on the face of the man Karakse had trod upon, and he turned away and became violently ill.

Through his mortification he heard Bandobras clucking his tongue and offering to make some tea if someone would be so good as to get a fire going; Lassah answered with dry humor:  "My Bandobras, do you be so good as to allow poor Fastred to empty his stomach first, ere you attempt to refill it."  There was some muted laughter at this from the Elves standing round, but then Fastred felt a woman's arm go round his shoulder.  He was sure at first it was Hirilcúllas, but to his surprise he heard Andunië's voice instead, close to his ear.

"Let him be, and get this mess up rather than tease him so.  He has had two men and deserves praise not taunting."

"My pardon, O Huntsmistress!" said Lassah, and Fastred looked up; Legolas was bowing politely to Andunië, in whose eyes burned hot indignation.  "You are right of course; I humbly ask your forgiveness, O my Fastred."

"That is well, Lord Lassah," said Fastred shakily; "I ought not to have gotten sick."

"Well, why should you not?" asked Himbaláth coming up to them; he too was spattered with gore, but seemed not a whit bothered by it; his horse limped disconsolately behind him.  "It is many years hence but I too reacted that selfsame way, when I slew my first orc."

"Ah, so you did!" said Lirlindil beside him cleaning his sword.  "I felt none too hungry after my first battle as well.  'Tis a natural reaction, Lord Fastred, and naught for which to feel shame.  Look!  Two men and by your own hand, and woundless beside; that is quite good for your first time."

"Aye; I am quite proud of you, Lord Fastred," said Himbaláth smiling.  "My training held in good stead, did it not, my Lord?"  He looked down at his prince, who knelt still upon the bloodied earth with Bandobras his esquire beside him.

"Yes; two men and no injuries; he may vomit all he likes," said Legolas with a grin.  "Andunië, O Little One, have you no sympathy left to spare your poor brother?  For he languishes upon the hill above us, and has no one but Taruku to fawn over him, and as we both know Taruku is a fine steed but not very compassionate."

"He is injured?" said Andunië sharply, rising; Legolas stood too and they both turned toward the hill.  Many men lay there dead, and their horses milled about nervously; the Elves were there, gleaning arrows and turning the dead men over, and at the top of the hill stood the huge form of Taruku, proud against the brilliant sky, but riderless.  Andunië broke away from her lord then and ran up the hill, and Himbaláth followed her.  Legolas held his hand out to Fastred and Fastred took it, letting Legolas pull him to his feet; he was still trembling but felt a little better knowing Himbaláth had vomited too.

"Is Meivel all right?" he asked.

"He has broken his arm, and sustained sundry cuts and bruises," said Legolas.  "It is naught but surface wounds however; he is more angry than hurt; he is not used to being ambushed and considers it a personal affront.  Do not forget to clean your sword, O Little One; it would not do to draw it before your uncle dirty and rusted."

Fastred looked down at his sword, still clutched in one hand, and wished he hadn't.  "Why did those Dunlendings attack us, Lord Lassah?" 

"Ah!"  Legolas went to one of the men Fastred had slain; he turned the body over with his foot and squatted beside it, fingering the clothing, which was rough and dirty.  "Why indeed," he murmured, and tearing a scrap of the man's tattered cloak he handed it to Fastred to clean his sword.  "How quickly the thoughts turn to Dunlendings, when travelers are waylaid upon the Great West Road!  And why should they not?  Tattered and dirty clothes; mindless violence – is that not how all think of them?  The unhappy Dunlendings have ever been a thorn in the side of the Mark; time out of mind has Éomer desired to rid himself of their presence once and for all, but compassion forestalled him.  But to have them attack his own heir, and a party of nobles and warriors from a neighboring land – that would spark his ire, would it not, Little One?  Éomer might perchance have desired to attack in turn and avenge our deaths.  Happily however we proved the fiercer warriors – though they attacked downhill and outnumbered us we fought well and fiercely and turned them back.  What was it, I wonder, that prompted them to spring their trap?  They had but Meivel within their clutches; had they only waited they could have inflicted far more damage."  Legolas pondered this a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line; Fastred cleaned his sword and Bandobras watched his master silently.  Legolas turned over the fastenings of the dead man's tunic, untied them, and slipped the hood from the battered head; it was dark with blood.  "Dressed as Dunlendings they most certainly may be," said Legolas, "but Dunlendings are dark, O Fastred; this man is fair – fair enough to be your uncle's own son.  Look at him!"

Fastred glanced at the dead man's face and looked quickly away.  Bandobras however leant over the body, twisting his face into a thoughtful scowl.  "Sure enough, Master; you've hit the target whang in the middle," he said.  "Dunlendings I've seen, but this man's of the Mark or I'm a donkey."  He nudged the body with his toe and said doubtfully, "If these men are Rohirrim, and they're dressed as Dunlendings, well, then …"

"Then we were meant to think we were attacked by Dunlendings," supplied Fastred, suddenly understanding.  "And then someone would tell mine uncle, and he would think – "

"He'd say," said Bandobras excitedly, " 'Why, here's them dratted Dunlendings at it again; they've killed my nephew and my friend Legolas and by thunder that's going too far.'  And he'd round up all the men in the Mark and plough 'em down.  That's what he'd do, Fastred, true's you live, and if I'm wrong I'll pay you a penny."

"And if the Dunlendings all were slain the lands above the Onodló should be cleared," said Legolas, frowning; "then would the pathway be open to bribe Aldamir with land … "  He looked down at his two charges; Fastred was puzzled, but Bandobras' face lit up with understanding.

"That's it, Master!" he exclaimed.  "Though," he added, his face darkening, "we still don't know if 'twas Théalof or Bréawine did it – both have a stake in getting Aldamir and you out of their hair."

"Indeed," said Legolas with a smile.  "And whichever of those men plotted this attack, had it succeeded he should have had double the victory – Éomer's vengeance upon the Dunlendings, and me removed from causing any further difficulty."

"If it were Théalof he should have had triple, not double, the victory," said Hirilcúllas coming over; she had refilled her quiver and collected about her three trembling horses that had belonged to their enemies.  They stood at her shoulder rolling their eyes, shifting uncomfortably upon the bloodied ground, and though she had bit nor bridle they shadowed her as though she were their sole protection.  "After all he has threatened Fastred already; with the heir's death he should have no need to abduct him."

"True," said Legolas rising.  He spoke softly to the horses clustered at Hirilcúllas' shoulder; hesitating they snuffled at his hand.  "Ah, poor friends!" he murmured to them; one hearing his soft voice nuzzled his breast, and he stroked the horse's nose.  "Noble are the steeds of the Rohirrim, and rarely used for such perfidy; have no fear, O children of Rohan; we shall turn your purposes to good once more!"  The other two horses crowded round him, one lipping at his pale hair, another nibbling at the buttons of his tunic.  "Hush, hush!" he chuckled, pushing the horse's mouth away.  "These are buttons not sugar-lumps."  He turned to Hirilcúllas, who was absent-mindedly untangling their long manes.  "Are any others hurt?"

"Horses, or Elves, my Lord?" she asked pertly.  Legolas attempted to frown and failed.

"Elves, of course, Little One."

"I know not; let me hobble these three and I shall ascertain."

"Do so."

The blue shadows of the hill deepened as the hours passed; the Elves stripped the spurious Dunlendings of armor and weapon and trinket to perchance identify them at Edoras, and dragged the bodies deep into the wood, digging a pit and casting them in, and covering them with dirt and rocks.  Fastred though a prince was not exempt from this distressing labor, and found to his surprise that searching the broken and bloodied bodies became easier the more often he did it; he was not so certain he approved of this adjustment.  While he was in the woods with the main body of Elves he heard hoofbeats; at first he was fearful, but then Malinadulin raised his head, listened, and said:

"It is Tathársul – he has returned."  He turned to Fastred and said, "Go you to our lord and see what they have brought with them; this is hot work and you are young yet."

Thankful to leave his distasteful task behind him Fastred ran through the cool woods to the clearing by the stream.  There he saw Lord Lassah standing by Bandobras and Meivel, whose arm was in a sling, and upon whose face was an expression of great affront; Himbaláth and several others waited near, watching as Tathársul and Romastáldë dismounted.  With their great destriers were other smaller horses, saddled and bridled but riderless; they were streaked with sweat and foam and trembling with fear.  Hirilcúllas and Andunië moved among them, removing their tack and speaking to them softly.

"They would not surrender, my Lord," Tathársul was saying to Legolas.  "We did ride them down, and Romastáldë and Kainendulin sent arrows over their heads in an effort to turn their horses; when we called unto their steeds the horses halted, though the men in their fear and fury did beat them; we came upon the men then, and in place of fighting or yielding they fell upon their swords, and did die."

"There; what did I tell you?" said Bandobras to Lassah; he looked irritated.  "I told you not to kill them all; I told you to leave some for questioning, but as usual no one listens to me."

"Did you not, O Bandobras, kill two men yourself?" asked Lassah mildly.  "I do not recall your granting clemency to either of them, nor ere slaying them inquiring of them whence they came, and who was their master."

"Well, I could scarcely let old Himbaláth here get it in the backside, now, could I?" demanded Bandobras huffily.  "And that second fellow would not let me be.  Frankly I thought it'd be better to get him out of the way – unintelligent looking anyway; not sure he would've been much help to us, even if he'd been inclined to talk, which really I don't think he would've been – not that it matters now, seeing as he's dead, but still."

They gathered up the surviving horses, and under Andunië's direction removed their saddles and bridles and tethered them near the stream.  "We will bring them to Éomer," declared Legolas, surveying the line; the steeds were fine and hale but showed signs of recent hard usage.  "Naught but a month in good pasture wouldn't cure," Bandobras said with satisfaction, and it seemed to Fastred the horses agreed; they drank from the Mering thirstily, and tore at the sparse grass upon the bank.  Himbaláth's horse had been shot in the foreleg and limped badly.  After conferring with Andunië he chose from the captured steeds a sturdy gray to bear him.  "I would not so misuse my Moina, riding him while he is hurt," he said, stroking his large chestnut destrier upon the nose as Andunië brought the new horse up to make acquaintance.  "I shall name you Utuë," he said to the gray; "for you were lost but I have found you."

They camped by the stream, building for themselves a large fire to warm and comfort those who had sustained injuries in the battle.  Fortunately these were few, and the injuries not great; only Meivel and one of his subordinates, Belegtilion, were incapacitated, and even then they were able to sit and eat with their companions.  Fastred was surprised to find in himself a great hunger and he ate ravenously despite the day's deeds; Bandobras but laughed and told him it was his stomach's response to how vigorously he'd emptied it before.  After the bread and bacon had been consumed, and all were sitting round the fire warm and full and content, Himbaláth turned to his lord's esquire and said, his fair face puzzled:  "What did you mean, O Bandobras, by shouting that word 'fore' to me, when I had slain that first man?"

"O!" laughed Bandobras, leaning back on his hands and smiling into the fire.  "That is nothing but a game we play in the Shire."  He grinned at Himbaláth, who still looked perplexed, and added, "Your form was perfect, by the way."

"Well," said Himbaláth slowly, "should I sojourn to your lands perchance you might show me this game, since I show some proclivity for it."

"I'll do that," promised the Hobbit.

 "What did you do, Bandy, when you had your first man?" Fastred asked later, as they set out their blankets beneath the trees, and the Elves set up a perimeter watch.  If slaying a man in such a fashion was considered to be a game in the Shire, he decided the periannath were fiercer than he had thought, and was certain Bandobras had done nothing like vomit after his first battle.  Had he been given a prize perhaps, or celebrated in some fashion?  But the Hobbit laughed and blushed.

 "Fell over and konked my head," said he with a grin; "clumsy little lout I was."

Next morning there was talk of pushing to Edoras, but after examining Moina's foreleg, and Meivel and Belegtilion's wounds, Lord Lassah shook his head and declared, "We shall wait one day more, to allow our injured to recover; I will not limp in to Edoras like a defeated battalion – that is no way to present a king's heir.  Besides which," he added with a laugh, "I should rather ride with all appearance of strength and victory; I have a reputation to maintain after all."  So all that day Fastred and Bandobras played in the stream, paddling in the shallows with their trousers rolled up, trying to catch crayfish and striders.  Several times dark, shining fish with luxurious fins flickered by, too quick to catch by hand; Bandobras exclaimed:  "Graylings! O for a hook and a pole!" and he and Fastred gazed longingly after them.

Next morning both Moina and Meivel were deemed fit to travel, though Moina limped badly and their pace was slowed, and Meivel was waspish for his lord would not let him ride point, but sent Kainendulin instead.  Himbaláth had begged for the privilege but Legolas forestalled him, saying:  "Nay, O my friend; we enter the Mark today, and as my lieutenant you shall bear the heir's standard, as you did in Amon Din."  So they rode four abreast, Legolas with his esquire and Fastred with Himbaláth beside him; the green pennants whistled and snapped in the high wind, and the grass upon the furrowed plain shimmered and danced like a pale green tide.  The clouds scurried overhead, thickening as the morning waned to afternoon, so that a roiling mass of pearly gray obscured sun and sky.  They passed over the Fenmarch into the Eastfold by evening, and camped beneath the leaden sky; it was dark, and their fire pit had to be dug deep to keep the wind from scattering sparks amongst the grass.  Fastred huddled in his blankets, cold and uncomfortable; he was tired of traveling and adventures, and missed his bed.  He stared up at the dark sky, hoping to see the stars; but all round him was obscured, and even the soft merry voices of his traveling companions were muted in the groan of the wind.  "I wish we were back in Amon Din," he thought discontentedly to himself, and with a sigh consigned himself to sleep.

Dawn was an affair of pink and scarlet and gray, heralded by a chattering group of larks quarreling amongst the grasses; the clouds had lowered and the wind stilled, and it was not so cold.  By noontime Fastred could see the peaks of the Ered Nimrais retreating from the road, and Bandobras where he rode upon his small pony said:  "Finally!  I was beginning to think we'd never get here.  But this is the beginning of the end, isn't it, Master?  For when the mountains move off to the left that means we'll be at Edoras by nightfall."

"Barring any further misfortunes, yes," said Lassah.  "See you that high peak, my Fastred?  That is Starkhorn; it broods over Meduseld as Mindolluin does over Minas Tirith, and as the Ephel Dúath over mine own demesne. When you are older we shall climb it; it is a harsh ascent, but can be done, though with care; it is very much worth it, for from its heights one can see from Edoras to Helm's Deep, and north through the Westemnet towards Fangorn."

"Look, my Lord!" said Himbaláth from beside Fastred.  "Here is Kainendulin; I wonder what he has found?"

The scout was galloping back, his destrier's thick legs veiled in grass; the Elf's bow was out.  "Men coming, my Lord!" he said as he approached; "they did not see me, for we were in a fold of the earth, but they are scarce two leagues off – fifty men, of Rohan; heavily armed, and riding of purpose toward us."

Fastred was afraid, but Lord Lassah did not seem overly concerned.  "Fly they the flag of Éomer King?" he asked.

"They do, my Lord," said Kainendulin; "the selfsame flag as Lord Fastred's, and from a shining spear."

Legolas glanced back at Meivel, who stewed fretfully with his arm in a sling, and Belegtilion with his bandaged head, and said, "Well we cannot outrun them, so we must needs meet them as they come.  Himbaláth!  Go you to the middle of the file with Lord Fastred, and place him betwixt you and Romastáldë.  Should these men prove treacherous it were prudent to protect him as best we may.  And tell all to have arrow to string, and loosen their swords."  As Himbaláth and Fastred turned their steeds Legolas said:  "Meivel!  Come you up here beside me – you too Fionim; you are grim-looking enough to bolster me adequately I deem.  Steady the standard, O my Bandobras!  And be you sure to hold your tongue if you can; it is possible these men know naught of the attack upon the Mering."

"I'll try, Master," piped Bandobras; "it's not so hard for me to be quiet as when I was young – guess I'm getting used to holding my tongue, like."

They rode forward not speaking nor singing; the only sounds round them were the whistle of the breeze in the grasses, and the crunch of their horses' hooves.  They rose up out of a fold in the earth and Fastred, peering round the heads of the Elves in front of him, could see approaching a group of men on horseback, cantering toward them; he could not make out the design on the pennant that flew from the standard-bearer but descried the glint of green beneath the spearhead.  "I am in Rohan now," he thought, his chest tight; "good or ill I must think and speak as my mother's people."  The men rode in formation, and swiftly; when they saw Legolas and his party they cried aloud and spread out in a great half-circle, and several drew their swords.  But Legolas rode forward confidently, with Bandobras bearing his standard; by his side were Meivel and Fionim.  Meivel had bound his escutcheon upon his broken arm, and held his sword, and Fionim had fitted an arrow to his string.  The men slowed then stopped; there seemed to be some hurried discussion, then four horsemen broke away from the formation and came forward to meet Legolas.

"Well-met, men of Rohan!" cried Legolas.  "I bring you greetings from Dol Galenehtar in Ithilien to Éomer King of the Mark."

"Your name and purpose, if you please, O Elf!" said the foremost man imperiously, lowering his spear so that it pointed to Legolas' chest.  "And tell your bodyguard to put down his bow."

"See you not the image upon my standard?" asked Legolas in mild surprise.  "Think you any but the Green Knight durst ride beneath this ensign?  Or are there so many Elf-lords about you must needs interrogate each one ere he passes through the gates of Edoras?"

"Easy it is to claim lordship when one's face is as strange as yours," retorted the man.  "Yet were you indeed the Green Knight of Dol Galenehtar your men should not threaten us so."  He gestured with his spear to Fionim, who scowled at him.

"O Fionim is harmless … mostly," said Legolas shrugging.  "With but one arrow fitted to his string he shall kill but one of you ere you charge.  It is the twelve other archers behind him whom you should fear."

The line of men bristled visibly at that, and their captain urged his horse forward despite Fionim's bow.  "If you are truly Legolas of Dol Galenehtar why do you ride thus?" he asked suspiciously.  "Armed and in file as though to battle, with bows strung and swords unsheathed?  What quarrel have you with the Mark?"

"None whatsoever!" said Legolas.  "What quarrel have you with Dol Galenehtar, or with the Green Knight's business?"

"These are troubled times in the Eastfold," growled the man; "the Dunlendings are restless; our men and horses go missing, and villages are burned.  We have had no word of Dol Galenehtar or of Ithilien or even from Southern Gondor – no letters or missives coming from the East have arrived at Edoras, and some say that our allies has turned against us.  Also there are rumors – " he hesitated then and his eyes were troubled; he lowered his voice.  "Strange beings walk about the edges of our lands; they lurk in the darkness with evil intent, and it is said they eat the dead from the ruined settlements."

"Indeed?" said Legolas; his eyes were wary.  "Grim as your words sound to me, that is no concern of mine at the moment; my path took me through Anórien, and toward Meduseld alone.  Will you let me pass, or no?  We go to Edoras yea or nay; you may ride with us if you like."

"If we like?" sneered the man next to the captain.  "O we shall ride with you, Elf; stay this impertinent manner before my Marshall, or you shall make your entrance into the Golden Hall in chains.  You show great effrontery by traveling through the Mark with such belligerence about you."  He looked round at the Green Knight's party, his eyes narrowed.  "And do not think we cannot recognize our own steeds!  These are horses of our own lands; they are nothing like the farm-nags you ride."

"That is so," said the captain.  "Whence came those horses which trail along behind you?  Stolen no doubt; and I am certain their riders you have slain yourself."

"I should rethink that accusation were I you," said Meivel softly, urging Taruku forward so that he and his lord stood together.  "These beasts are the spoils of battle – battle with Rohirrim such as yourself, who waylaid us at Mering." 

"You lie," said the captain angrily; "no man of the Mark would assail a traveling party."

"Yet we were assailed," said Legolas, giving Meivel a warning glance.  "Come!  There is no need to quarrel; we are all allies here.  I go to Meduseld; will you ride with me?"

"You go nowhere until we are satisfied," said the captain grimly; he gestured and the rest of his men came up behind him, spears lowered and swords drawn.  "Tell us where you got those horses!"

"We did tell you!" exclaimed Bandobras, exasperated past obedience to his Master's interdiction.  "Don't you see we have injured in our party?  Goodness gracious; the hospitality of the Mark's not what it used to be, and that's the truth.  First we're attacked, and then threatened; all we're trying to do is get to King Éomer, for goodness' sake!"

"I will not let so large an armed party travel at will through the Eastfold," said the captain stubbornly.  "Give up your weapons and we will escort you there."

"Give up our weapons!"  Meivel gave a short bark of laughter.  "After your brethren attempted to cut us down?  Nay; we are the injured party; you give unto my lord your weapons, and we shall travel at peace."

"And who are you, who makes such grand accusations, and perverse demands?" said the captain.  "Throw down your weapons, all of you Elves; we are prepared to do battle, and I do not think you shall be so successful against us as against our brethren whom you slaughtered upon the Mering."

Fastred who had been listening with increased agitation to this exchange turned to Himbaláth, upon whose fair face, of habit so merry, was an expression of angry gravity.  "Come," he whispered to the Elf, and urged Karakse forward; Himbaláth upon Utuë followed, raising Fastred's banner high over his head.  Gathering his courage about himself, the boy pushed past Romastáldë and Belegtilion and rode up to where Legolas sat upon his black destrier, facing the stubborn captain of the Mark.  Fastred looked hard at that captain; as things stood this man would one day be his subordinate and those in the éored his own men, and to cower in the midst of warriors was no place for a future king.  His heart was in his mouth and his head felt very light, but he knew he must speak out or admit defeat ere he joined in battle.  He drew up between Legolas and Meivel; he could see from the corner of his eye Legolas watching him, but his own eyes were fixed upon the Rohirrim, who stared at him with suspicion.

"Desist!" said Fastred loudly; he was very thankful his voice had not cracked or wobbled; he knew he needed to sound as though he spoke with authority and confidence, despite the fact he was trembling head to foot, and clutched at Karakse's reins so tightly his fingers were numb.  The captain and his standard-bearer gazed at him with wonder and anger commingled, and Fastred remembering his mother's ferocity stared back, lifting his chin as she was wont, and scowling.  But his next words were worthy more of his Lord Father's diplomacy than his mother's, for he spoke gently yet firmly, bearing in mind these men were of his own moreso than the Elves, though far less dear.  "I commend you, good Marshall, for your vigilance and care, yet do assure you in this instance it is excessive; this is indeed Legolas Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, called by our people the Lord of Dol Galenehtar, and friend and advisor to your king.  He journeys in this land far from his own demesne on matters of state, and he and his people have shown themselves worthy of your honor and vilification, not suspicion."

"And who are you, little master?" demanded the captain lowering his sword and staring hard at Fastred.  "A youngling you are yet you speak as a lord.  Upon whose authority do you demand our compliance?"

"Upon mine own and that of my mother-brother's," said Fastred firmly.  "Lower your weapons, men of the Mark!  For I am your prince and your sovereign's chosen heir, and I come to reign in Meduseld succored by the strength of Elves and in their protection."

The men lowered their swords and spears, staring at him in amazement, but the captain still looked doubtful.  "And how do we know, O Heir of Meduseld," he asked, "that you speak the truth, and that these Elves have come upon our horses honestly?"

"You know for I myself have said so," said Fastred growing angry.  "Are you blind, Marshall of the Mark?  Have you not eyes to see?  Or do you choose to disregard the standard beneath which I ride?  I am Fastred son of Faramir and I shall be your king.  So sheathe your swords; set your spears; quiver your arrows!  Part your company and we shall ride on; you may ride your patrol as you will, but the Heir of Meduseld has an appointment to keep with his mother-brother, and the chary skepticism of a minor captain will avail nothing to keep him from his duty and privilege."

"Well said!" murmured Legolas under his breath; Fastred glanced up at him and saw his face was grave, but there was a twinkle in his gray eyes that belied that gravity.  "At first I heard you speak as your Lord Father; but there was in that last speech more of your dear mother's fire."  Fastred flushed but held his ground; the captain was looking at him with dawning comprehension, at last lowering his gaze and saying:

"Put your weapons away!"

There was the sound of swords being returned to their sheaths, and arrows slipping into their quivers; Legolas nodded to Meivel, whose face was dark with wrath; but Meivel turned as well and spoke to his Elves in his own tongue to do likewise, and they did, though Fionim had the selfsame look about him as had Andunië before, when she watched the quail fly away.  Legolas turned to Fastred with a smile and said:

"How proud of you I am, Little One!  And how proud your Lord Father and Lady Mother would be!  Now come and make acquaintance proper of this captain; he is your man, and good relations 'twixt you two shall be essential."

So Fastred and Legolas rode forward, closing the gap between them and the men; the captain hesitated, looking uncertain; then he dismounted and bowed.

"Your Highness," he said, his eyes on the earth.  "I am Arúlf son of Brégund, a Marshall of Riddermark and your servant."

"Well-met, Arúlf son of Brégund," said Fastred carefully.  "I am pleased to meet with so valiant a warrior and I trust in future we shall be instead on the same side of the line, and not facing."

Arúlf did not seem to know what to make of this; he was staring round at the Elves who surrounded his prince, and looked very disapproving.  "We will see you safe to Edoras," he said; "I am certain Éomer King and his queen Lothíriel shall be gratified to hear of your arrival."

"An it please you, remount, son of Brégund," said Fastred, feeling very embarrassed and attempting to hide it.  "I do not like to see a man of the Mark off his horse; it is unnatural."  The captain looked at him in surprise, but smiled a little; he swung back up on his horse, and stared hard at the boy.

"My apologies," he said slowly.  "I did not know – no one knew you were coming so early."

"Culpability is colored with intent," said Legolas with a smile.  "You guard your king's lands well, O captain."

The Marshall looked at him with grudging respect.  "And you guard our king's heir well, O Green Knight."  He glanced distrustfully at Himbaláth then, who sat behind Fastred, holding aloft the banner of Rohan.  "But there is no need for such guard now; we are here and provide all the escort our prince will require.  I will get you a proper standard-bearer, your Highness," he said to Fastred, turning away from the Elf; "the ensign of the Mark ought rather to be borne by a man of the Mark; it is unseemly to have that fellow there to bear it, for he is not of our land; he is not even a man."

Meivel's face darkened again, and Himbaláth looked hurt; Fastred fought back a stab of anger, remembering Himbaláth's good humor and bravery, and attempted to mirror the dignity he had seen his own parents exude.  "That will be unnecessary, Arúlf Marshall of the Mark," he said, making his voice as cold as possible.  "Himbaláth is a mighty warrior and my good friend, and the ensign of my house is elevated not only by his hands but also by his proximity."  Then because he could not decide what to say should this decision be challenged, and because he was uncomfortable with the captain staring at him thus, he touched Karakse's side with his heels and they moved forward into the midst of the éored. The men parted before him as he rode, with Himbaláth by his side; Fastred did not dare look at the Elf, for either he would be offended by Fastred's insistence upon keeping him as standard-bearer, or immeasurably amused, which would be worse.  He heard all round him the men muttering, though he did not look at them but kept his head high; had he looked he would have seen them bow their heads to him as he passed.  He could hear Legolas behind him, speaking to the captain and to Meivel, and after he had passed through the éored knew Lord Lassah and his people were following, and the éored turned as well, and flanked them as they rode.  His heart still beat unnaturally fast, and he was finding it hard to breathe; he had to keep reminding himself to exhale.  After some time he heard Himbaláth give a ghostly chuckle and whisper:

"And do I, O Fastred son of Faramir, elevate your standard high enough?"

Fastred glanced quickly at Himbaláth, who looked upon the verge of laughter; he swallowed hard and said: "O do not tease me, Himbaláth; I was so frightened and angry!"

"But you showed it not," smiled the Elf; "you are your mother's son, of a certainty!"  They fell silent then, for several men were riding close; Himbaláth watched them carefully, for they were far ahead of the rest of their own party.  When one of the men drew up alongside them Himbaláth said to him: 

"Look!  I ride upon one of your own steeds; do you perceive it?  Mine own was injured in the skirmish at Mering so I took for myself one of these.  He is a beautiful horse is he not?  I quite like him; his action is loose and springy, and he is so agreeable.  Yours is the same I deem; I have never seen such well-set forelegs, and his coat is so glossy!  Is it true, O Man of Rohan, that the horses of this land may trace their ancestry back to Felaróf himself?"

He spoke such with the man for some time, cheerful and undeterred by the man's uncertainty; Fastred listened fascinated as Himbaláth at last beat down the man's defenses, though with smile and laughter not with halberd; and they and sundry other men spoke of horses, and swords, and whetstones, and oats, whilst he quieted his thundering heart and slowed his breathing.  After a while Lord Lassah and his party surrounded them once more, though Legolas was careful to keep Fastred at the head of the file; he did not speak to Fastred as they rode, but whenever Fastred glanced back at him Legolas was smiling, and upon his fair face was an expression of proud satisfaction.