Fastred sat upon the walls of Meduseld, looking down past the city to the plains below. His chin was in his hand, and his fist upon his hip, for he was discontented, and still at an age that he was ignorant to hide it. Beside him sat several other children, who had in the past days become his friends; they were boys and girls both, and Léodwyn was among them. Despite her plain black dress and the brown eyes which set her so apart from the other girls she was in perpetual attendance upon the prince, for he insisted upon it, realizing the other children in the court looked down upon her in her lowly state, and wishing to give unto her some of the comfort he had received, by incurring his own status upon her. When she was not reminded to be melancholy she was quite a good playmate indeed, riding her horse with the rest, or sitting with the other girls upon the banks of the pond behind the city to watch the boys fish. She did not chatter, which was a relief, but let the other girls talk, and for that reason she was becoming quite popular. Fastred thought to himself that Hísimë and Théodred were very lucky, for she was to go to live in Osgiliath, and then they would be friends with her too.

At times Bandobras joined them; he was young enough still to enjoy the company of children, yet old enough to make sure they did not incur too much damage as they played, and sometimes he would regale them with tales of his own lands and people. The children grew to watch for the phrases which began, "You know, there was this neighbor of mine when I was little – " for then the stories would begin, and they be brought to laughter by the telling of them. And when Fastred begged him he would also tell tales of the Elves of Dol Galenehtar, in particular his Lord Lassah, whom Fastred missed greatly; and it was on this account he sat upon the wall that gray forenoon, hoping with all his might that the Elf lord would return.

He stared out into the fields, watching the winding river wend its way through the soft curves and creases of the earth, the empty brown fields dotted with crows and blackbirds, the riders who now and again came round the bend in the road to and from the city, stopping at the gates and moving on, tiny like toys in the distance. He wished he had Elven eyes, for though he stared and strained he could not see well past the fourth hill; it was misty and gray to him, and he could not distinguish much past a darkness here, or a movement there. And he well knew Meivel watched also, pacing to and fro upon the high walls, his dark hair tossed and tousled in the wind, glaring out at the emptiness; the past seven days had the Elf captain watched but in vain, for no word came from the north. In vain also had Meivel begged Fastred's uncle to let him go forth in foray; Éomer had but replied, "Wait you a few days longer, good Meivel, and have faith your lord will return to you anon." And then he would say to Gimli or to Bandobras, "Such impatience I have never seen from one of the fair folk! You are certain Meivel is indeed an Elf?" And Meivel would glower and return to his beat, watching with anxious eyes for his lord's return.

"A hard three-days' ride," muttered Fastred under his breath. Hímalf, one of his new friends, a big tow-haired boy that put him in mind of Halgond, turned to look at him and said: "What?"

"Three days' ride," said Fastred staring out at the fields. "That is what Híldaf did say, that it should take at least that long to reach the village. Three days out, and three to return; they should be back by now!"

"Not so, Fastred Prince," said another boy sitting beside him. "Why, if they are to bring tidings back, they must look around a bit, and that will take some time."

"And who knows what they have found!" added Hímalf. "Why they might have come across Dunlendings, or ghosts. That might delay them."

"I do not believe in ghosts," declared one girl bravely, and that sparked a debate amongst the children, whether ghosts indeed lurked about, or were naught but the fancies of over-fearful peasants. Fastred did not join in the conversation, for he trusted his Lord Lassah more than anyone – save perhaps his noble parents – and Lassah had insisted that ghosts did indeed walk the earth. Not always, he had said with a smile, and not everywhere. But Lassah had seen them with his own eyes, so Fastred was constrained to believe him.

He shivered. He did not want to see a ghost. He was possessed of a vivid imagination, and as a very small child had been terrified of what lurked in his wardrobe, or underneath the bed; and one nurse, with more fancy than sense, had told Fastred that the ghost of his grandsire, Denethor of the Tower, hovered about his pyre in the City of the Dead. Everafter Fastred went to Minas Tirith in dread of meeting Denethor's spirit, oftimes staying with the grown-ups in preference to playing in the streets, for fear of running across that shade. He did not disclose this secret terror, sure it would be laughed at; yet the thought of ghosts about sent a cold tremor up his back, and he told himself over and over that the ghosts of Fangorn were but rumor.

After a time the afternoon turned chilly, and the children dispersed to their several homes for dinner; Léodwyn and Fastred climbed down off the wall, and went to the back of the Hall to the buttery. "Do you believe in ghosts, Fastred?" Léodwyn asked, as they ducked beneath the low lintel, and waited by the table for the cooks to notice them.

Fastred hesitated before answering, for he did not want her to be frightened. "Yes," he said slowly, "but I am not convinced it is ghosts the folk of the West Emnet see."

Léodwyn considered this, tipping her pale, thin face to one side. Fastred was dissatisfied with how little she had got fat in the past week, and often chivvied her to eat more; he did not like to see a girl so thin, for he was certain it was very unhealthy, and that Mistress Pearl would disapprove. "I think there are ghosts to the north," she said at last, smiling at the cook, who had handed them fresh rolls and cold ham. "My mother-brother – rather, mine uncle – he says they are there, and I think I might trust him in that." As they took their repast to the Hall she asked curiously: "So it is true Elves do not fear the Dead? I would think that an Elf would fear death more than we mortals do, for it should be such an unnatural interruption of their state."

"I know not," confessed Fastred. He looked around the dark hall, about which milled folk drinking or talking, and espied his uncle sitting by the fire with Gimli, Frera, Fríma, and Belegtilion. "Let us sit at the hearth," he said; "then we might ask Belegtilion, and he should tell us if he wishes."

Léodwyn paused, biting at her rosy lip, and Fastred asked, "What is it? Surely you do not fear to sit with the king; after all I am a prince and you like me well enough."

"O it is not the king," said Léodwyn hurriedly. "It is the Elf – I am still uncomfortable round them. But," she said, lifting her little pointed chin, "if I am to live in Osgiliath with your noble parents, I must become accustomed to them, for they shall be my neighbors; so yes, let us sit by the hearth."

"Very well," said Fastred with a smile, and the two children went to the fireplace. The grown-ups did not seem to mind their presence; in fact Éomer welcomed them warmly, and bade Léodwyn take a more comfortable seat. Fastred noted she kept looking through her honey-colored hair at Belegtilion, who from his injuries sustained upon the Mering had remained in Meduseld. The Elf sat cross-legged upon the hearth, with a hunting-dog's glossy head in his lap. The strappings had been removed from his wound, and Fastred could see it was healing well, though he would have the crooked scar across his cheek and eye for some time. Unlike Meivel he did not seem discommoded by his inability to join his lord; he was laughing at something Fríma had said, and appeared very comfortable.

"Well, and how go the watchers today?" asked Frera with a smile at them. "Do you believe Legolas will return the faster, if you keep your eyes fixed upon the north?"

"If I believed that I should never come down, Lady Frera," said Fastred. "Do you not think this is taking an unconscionable time? I had hoped he should be back by now!"

"You are as impatient as Meivel, O mine heir!" laughed Éomer. "Tell me, Fastred sister-son, why is it you are so anxious for Legolas' return? He is a hale and canny warrior, and as shades vex him not I do not believe he should find himself in immediate danger. Do you miss your grown playmate so much?"

"Well, yes," admitted Fastred; "I am not used to sharing him you know, except with Hísimë and Théodred. In times past he would go away, and I would miss him, but know that he should return when he said he would; however he went to the north without saying good-bye, or telling me when he would return. So I am a little anxious, Uncle, and wish we at least had news of him."

"Well here is something at least," said Gimli from where he sat at his mother's feet. He threw a letter, seal broken, onto Fastred's lap. "Read this; it is from Nórin, and as you are prince here I believe the doings to the west concern you too. Though I beg you to indulge his careless manner; Nórin was never one to waste words on formality!"

Fastred unfolded the letter and read:

Gimli Lord of Aglarond, Son of Glóin

From Nórin son of Órin, his servant:

Greetings.

The new vein progresses nicely. Tell the King he shall receive approximately one hundred seventy three per cent more revenue from taxes incurred on gold production, and three hundred forty one per cent in silver. Also Fróga claims he has found rubies, which is gratifying. When you return we shall begin mining the twelfth chamber.

We were approached the day after my return here by a man claiming he speaks for Bréawine, who calls himself Lord of the West Emnet. According to his messenger, Bréawine says he shall leave the Dwarves of Aglarond be if they pay him danegeld of fifteen per cent of all annual takings in gold, silver, and gems. When we enquired why we should be constrained to pay danegeld to an upstart as well as the legitimate king of Rohan, he threatened us with war. But Bréawine's messenger experienced a surprising change of heart after Fróga, Bálor, and I spoke to him at length. Well, perhaps it is not so surprising, as our arguments involved heavy sticks. Now he sits in our dungeons complaining Rohan is on the brink of disaster. It is the only thing he has said so far to which I am in agreement.

We have secured oaths from the remaining men in the Deep to remain true to Éomer. As Híldaf told us, there are many wandering round out there, unsure where their loyalties lie. Híldaf, Hárma, and some others are rounding them up and convincing them their safest choice is the current king, and to give Bréawine a wide berth. The rumors about ghosts have helped. As Éomer is friends with Elves, and as Elves do not fear ghosts, some of the men who otherwise would remain indecisive have determined to take their chances with the man most likely to be able to protect them from the Dead. Mad, the lot of them.

Give my deepest and humblest respects to Lady Frera and Fríma her maidservant. I will let you know about the emerald cache, though it seems to me it has run out. But hope springs eternal, as they say.

Durin's blessings,

Nórin

"Uncle," said Fastred worriedly, "why is it so hard to keep men on our side? Why do they keep revolting against you? I do not recall discord like this from my history studies."

"I do not know," sighed Éomer. "When questioned, the men only say they are uneasy about mine ability to maintain the throne. Legolas has suggested, and I think I concur, that the disappearance of the King's post has to do with it; if we know not the letters passing to and from Gondor, and if Bréawine or Théalof have managed to replace those letters with spurious ones of their own, who knows what mischief might be accomplished! But if this Bréawine claims he is Lord of the West Emnet, my seat is at least secure here; I know not of any other claimant to my position."

"Besides Fastred," said Gimli.

"Well, yes. Besides Fastred, but I do not think he is planning mine assassination yet," said the king with a small smile. Fastred blushed; he could not imagine plotting to slay someone, least of all a relation, for a throne; he found it disheartening enough to realize the throne would be his eventually, for he was uncomfortable at the thought. "But I am encouraged; if the Dwarves report men renew their oaths to me, at least I have troops at the Deep loyal to my command. Though they will not bear to march against the ghosts, they recognize I have friends who will; that is enough so far."

"Léodwyn and I are curious about that," said Fastred, turning to the Elf, who was stroking the dog's head. "Belegtilion, why do Elves not fear the Dead? Why is it that ghosts fill mortals' hearts with dread and alarm, but hold no terror for the Firstborn? Is it that you do not fear death either?"

Belegtilion laughed. "Well, I would not say that," he said, smiling at the children. "We are brave, it is true, and perchance do not fear the afterlife as do some mortals, though to be sure certain modes of death may give us qualms."

"Drowning," said Fríma gruffly from her seat. "I have always feared drowning; I know not why."

"Yes," said Belegtilion. "And I have known Elves, brave fellows and fine warriors, who were unaccountably afraid of other ways to die – being shot by arrows, or crushed beneath stone, or other such like. But as to fearing the dead; well, I am not certain I can answer your query suitably, for I know not the reason one would feel fear when confronted with a ghost. I am as curious as you, for I might ask, Why do you fear the dead? What might a ghost do to harm you?"

"For myself," began Gimli, but suddenly Belegtilion sat up straight, eyes uplifted, his whole form filled with tension. "Listen, listen!" he said urgently, raising his hands. "It is Meivel – he is calling!" And quicker than eye could mark him he was on his feet, and running to the back of the Hall. Éomer stood, and Gimli also, and Frera said: "There, Fastred! Perhaps Legolas is back after all."

"O I hope he is!" cried Fastred, casting his bread and ham aside, to the delight of the hunting dog, who had looked affronted when his pillow so precipitately vanished. "Quick, Léodwyn! Maybe we will see him!" And he rushed out of the Hall on Belegtilion's heels, with the rest of them after him.

Meivel was calling from the top of the wall, and when Fastred looked out he could see a lone horseman coming at them, tiny in the distance, but kicking up dust in the heavy air. He looked down at the gates, which were open, and behind him could hear his uncle calling out to the grooms to saddle his steed so he might lead out a sortie to intercept the horseman. Fastred was wondering if it would be possible to join the sortie without getting into trouble when he felt a hand on his arm; he looked round, and saw Bandobras at his side, also peering over the wall.

"Quick, Fastred!" he said, grinning. "Let's go get Karakse, and ride out to see what all the fuss is about."

"Do you think mine uncle will disapprove?" asked Fastred, following the Hobbit to the stables, and ducking round the grooms as they hurried about.

"Maybe," said Bandobras shrugging. "But he didn't say not to go, and as he's a tad busy right now I don't think we need to bother him to ask, now, do we?"

Fastred laughed, and went to Karakse's loose-box. His piebald steed was restless, tossing his head about, for he could hear the excitement at the front of the stables and was anxious to join in. Taruku, Fastred noted, was already gone; Meivel had no doubt taken him ahead of the sortie. Fastred wondered if he'd bothered to ask Éomer's permission, then decided he had probably not. Hurriedly he and Bandobras tacked up Karakse, and just as Bandobras was scrambling hand-over-hand up the stirrups to the saddle there was the rustle and thud of hooves behind them. Fastred turned to see Léodwyn upon her father's horse; she had foresworn a saddle and it was for that reason she preceded them. "Hurry!" she said, her thin face flushed with excitement. "I do not want to miss anything."

Fastred mounted in front of Bandobras, and they clattered out of the stable through one of the side doors, so as to avoid any inconvenient questions; they turned the steeds to the alley and thus the main street, and trotted down the cobblestones, Karakse's fullered shoes rattling and banging, Falafód's lighter form clacking beside; Fastred's steed was two hands taller than Léodwyn's, though they had discovered Falafód despite his age could outrun him yet. They exited the gate, waving at the guards who grinned at them knowingly, and spying the cloud of dust in the distance urged their horses into a canter.

Sure enough both Belegtilion and Meivel had got there first; to Fastred's surprise Gimli sat upon Belegtilion's steed, clinging to the Elf's waist. The rider was but a lone Elf – Romastáldë, very grubby indeed, but in perfectly good humor, though Meivel looked furious, and Gimli was expostulating angrily.

" – the most inconsiderate, reckless behavior yet," he was saying as Fastred, Léodwyn, and Bandobras rode up. "I cannot believe you let him go – "

"Lord Gimli," said Romastáldë with a smile. "You might indeed be able to chide my lord in that fashion, but as for myself when Prince Legolas says he will go, we let him go."

"Did not Himbaláth give him any argument?" demanded Meivel, glowering at the scout. "There was no true reason for him to go, when another scout would have done as well."

Romastáldë shrugged. "Himbaláth is not Meivel, who presses and challenges his lord," he said. "I know he is not sanguine about these events, but when our lord has made up his mind who can sway him? He is not called Thranduilion for naught."

"Now, don't you tell me you've gone and lost my Master again," said Bandobras indignantly from Fastred's back. "Why, it's bad enough you fellows all ran off last week, helter-skelter into the north with neither Gimli nor me to keep him out of trouble, but here you're saying he's wandered off?"

"He went in search of a captive taken by Bréawine's men," said Gimli. "You know well your Master, Bandy; one has naught to say but there is trouble, and Legolas runs right toward it. At least he took Lirlindil with him."

Bandobras made an impatient noise. "Lirlindil! Why he is as bad as my Master! Between those two I shouldn't be surprised to hear they stormed Bréawine's keep, burned it down, set the flag of Dol Galenehtar on the ashes, and wrapped it all up by going to the pub and making a song about it!" He turned to Romastáldë and said: "Well, and now what? Is it just you coming back? Seems to me a lot more left than one. Did you lose them, too?"

"They are following," smiled Romastáldë. "Himbaláth leads them slowly, for there are many injured, and though we gave unto the women and children our steeds we cannot press them overmuch. Also we are running out of food; they are a day behind me, and Himbaláth sent me to ask the king to meet them with leeches and bread; we can only do so much for them."

"And look!" said Belegtilion. "Here comes the king now." He looked thoughtfully at Fastred and Léodwyn. "Do you know, I do think me 'twould be far more prudent to begin collecting foodstuffs ere Éomer gives the order – it would save time so that we might leave the faster; and also I do not think your uncle will be overjoyed to see that you have preceded him without permission, Lord Fastred."

"Not a bad idea, really," said Bandobras. "Well, come on, you two; let's get to the butteries and warn the cooks! And while we're at it I'll teach you a thing or two about housing refugees – I've had lots of practice doing that, you know."

So Fastred and Léodwyn rode back to the city; as they passed Éomer and his men the king but gave Fastred an amused look, which eased the knot in the boy's belly considerably. As they rode back up to Meduseld Bandobras called out to all he passed:

"Get your blankets, your bread and dried meat! The king's enemies have burned a village down, and your brothers need your help!" And the people came out of doors to hear him, some staring, others rushing round to go to the aid of the needy. By the time they reached the Hall it was busy as an ant-hill; fortunately Bandobras was possessed not only of great experience in organization but a very strident voice, and within hours there were collected tents and food enough to feed and house the villagers. The Halfling kept Fastred and Léodwyn, and their friends who joined them hoping for some fun, running to and fro for many hours, and by the time the sun sank behind the western Ered Nimrais they were all tired, but proud of what they had accomplished, for they saw that by the Hobbit's skills and knowledge not one of the poor villagers would lack bed or meat. At last, seeing his helpers wilted with weariness, Bandobras let them go home, and as Fastred and Léodwyn trudged tiredly to their rooms Fastred said:

"I am so glad for Bandobras! I had heard he was very good at this sort of thing, and I am grateful I have had a chance to see it, for now I shall know better what to do, should this tragedy happen and I am without him."

"I am glad too, but O I am so tired!" said Léodwyn, hiding a yawn behind one hand. "Well we shall see all the people tomorrow when the Elves come back, and then I am sure your Lord Lassah will return as well."

Fastred paused; he had forgotten Lassah in all the excitement, and once again he felt unhappy, and afraid for his friend. "I hope he and Lirlindil are well," he said.

"I am sure they are," said Léodwyn turning down the hallway from him. "I have heard so much concerning the Green Knight upon his midnight destrier that I am certain no foe would stand before him – " She covered another yawn, then said, "I am going to see my lady, and tell her of what has come to pass. Sleep you well, Fastred; and forget not that you and I ride to see the Elves at sunrise!"

"I will not! Good-night!" called Fastred, and went to his rooms. He was so weary he did not even bother to undress as he cast himself upon his bed, thinking ere he slipped into slumber: "This way I might get up straightway, and waste no time in the morning. I do not know why I fuss about with night-shirts anyway." And he went to sleep, dreaming of dried beef and bread, and of Bandobras standing next to his Lord Lassah.

The next day brought the refugees to Meduseld. Himbaláth rode at the head of the file, beneath the standard of Dol Galenehtar, and behind him came the great bellowing horses of Dale, bearing the weak and wounded. With them rode Éomer and his men, who had stayed with them the night on the plain, and Éomer had comforted his people, assuring them he would restore their lands and possessions, and praising them for their constancy. The whole city had come out to greet them, and Bandobras had insisted Fastred ride at the head. "For you are their prince you know," he said, "and they might as well get to know you now. Besides which, if they see what a good job you've done arranging all their tents and victuals they'll be more likely to swear allegiance to you when you become king." Fastred was unhappy at that thought, for he had promised Léodwyn he would ride out with her; but he recognized the Halfling knew a bit more about these matters than did he; so he mounted his Karakse and rode ahead of the people in the city, meeting Himbaláth and his uncle upon the road. Éomer smiled at Fastred then, and said: "So, O mine heir, do you seek to greet and succor our people! But I see your little shadow is not with you; where is Léodwyn?"

"She is at Meduseld, O Mother-Brother," said Fastred politely, though he blushed. "She and the others are awaiting the children." He looked at Himbaláth then; the Elf did not seem to be his usual self, but was sad; thinking he too missed his lord Fastred said to him: "O do not be so sad, Himbaláth! Lord Lassah will come back soon I am certain – tomorrow or the next day. And you have done a splendid thing, bringing all these folk back safely; and I thank you for this, that you have taken such good care of my people."

Himbaláth gave a crooked smile. "Bless you, O Fastred Prince!" he said. "You lighten my heart immeasurably." But Fastred thought perhaps that must be exaggerated, for Himbaláth looked as though his heart were heavy as lead. But then his uncle introduced Fastred to the village elder, and he was obliged to hear the tale of the destruction of the village, and the subject was dropped.

It took less time than Fastred had thought it would to get the villagers settled in the city. Some of the citizens opened their homes and barns to them, and others let their empty gardens be used for tents, so that soon the sounds of children's laughter and singing rang through the streets and alleys and courtyards of Edoras. Bandobras kept the boy quite busy, ordering him about with all the authority of a mighty general, and Fastred found himself not distributing food as he had expected, but meeting the people instead, and speaking to them to comfort them. Mostly he listened to them talk, hearing what he could of the great Elf-Lord who had risen out of the grass to speak to them, and of the kindness of the Elves who gave up their horses so the weary wounded would not have to walk. He had not realized how long a way it was for them, and how much Himbaláth had needed to slow his pace; it must have rankled in the Elf's bosom to tread so slowly and deliberately away from the dangers he knew his lord must face.

He saw Andunië and Hirilcúllas from a distance but was unable to speak with them; after a while he realized they had gone, and had taken Léodwyn and the young women with them. He wondered where they had got to, and what they were doing, and thought that had Andunië not been with them they would probably be sewing, or some other feminine thing; however he could not imagine Andunië sewing. "I wager she has been awfully bored," thought Fastred pityingly; "I am certain she would rather be out here with the menfolk, or at least with the horses." He wished he could run to the stables, and hide; he was so tired of talking to people, and wanted to be alone, even if he had to be with Andunië to do it. But he did not manage to rest until he had sought his bed; again, he was so weary he did not bother with his night-shirt, but slept again in his clothes, thinking as he drifted off: "Mother would never let me get away with this. Perhaps I shall like it here after all." But his dreams were disturbed, and he did not sleep well; he heard groans of pain, and the screams of tortured men, and pale staring faces drifting through a nighttime forest; and then he seemed to see Galás sitting at Lassah's desk, his head in his hands. He woke several times, sitting up in his dark room, wondering what the dreams meant, but he was weary enough to go back to sleep after a few moments, and when morning came he had forgotten all about them.

He could not find Léodwyn, and when he enquired after her was told she had spent the night with Hirilcúllas and Andunië; surprised but pleased he took bread and cheese from the buttery, and scrambled up on the wall to continue watching for his Lord Lassah. He was alone, which suited him fine after the madness of the past days; the morning was gray and cool, and a light moist breeze blew at him from the north. He felt rather happy, swinging his feet over the edge of the wall and munching on sweet brown bread and hard cheese, listening to the high whistling calls of eagles to his right, and seeing the slow brown river to his left, in which swam, as he now well knew, trout just as sweet-fleshed as those in the Anduin's estuaries. He could smell cook-fires, and hear the sound of children's voices from the fountain-square, and sighed contentedly. It had been a terrible thing, but between Elves and Men they had rescued and comforted the oppressed, and now he could rest for a while, and wait for Legolas to return. "Surely it shall be today or tomorrow," he said to himself, looking out over the misty blue plain. "He knows we await him, and he will not keep us long. He is rather thoughtful that way." So he finished his breakfast and waited, hoping no one would come seeking him for a while.

After about an hour he blinked, and looked closely at the undulating fields; had he just seen movement? Then above him he heard Meivel's voice cry out: "Rider from the north!" He jumped; he had not realized the Elf watched too, and remembered then the terrible argument Meivel and Himbaláth had got into – Meivel saying he was going to ride north and find his lord; Himbaláth angrily insisting he follow orders, and wait. It had taken Frera to diffuse the row, rebuking them both for raising their voices, and calling on Éomer's authority as king to settle the debate. Éomer, having heard from Himbaláth what Legolas had told his people, sided with Himbaláth, saying if their lord bid them wait they should wait, and if it were up to him no one would leave Edoras until Legolas returned with news of what transpired up by Fangorn. Meivel had taken this with his customary bad grace, and retired grumbling under his breath; Fastred wondered if he had spent the whole night upon the high wall watching for his lord, and decided it was just something Meivel would do.

He hopped off the wall and trotted toward the stables, hoping he would once again be able to slip out and meet the rider; however Éothain and Éodor impeded him, smiling and saying: "O no, Fastred Prince; you shall not elude us this time! The king has instructed us saying no one shall leave the city unless under guard, for we do not yet know what awaits us." Feeling keen sympathy for Meivel Fastred acceded, and with a sigh went out to the front courtyard before Meduseld, hoping the rider would come up to the Hall to speak with his uncle, and that he might be able to listen in. He sat upon the steps beneath the eyes of the guard and waited, and after a few moments Bandobras joined him, also sitting with a sigh, and putting his chin in his hands.

"If you don't mind me saying so, your uncle's got right bossy," he grumbled. "So what if there's trouble up north? That shouldn't mean we can't go out to hear a bit of news, does it?"

"He is the king," Fastred reminded him with a smile. The Hobbit snorted.

"Well, he ain't my king," he said. "And I'm getting worried about my Master."

Then the doors of the Hall opened, and Éomer came out, with Gimli and several others. He looked very grim, and was wearing his sword; Fastred leaped to his feet, and Bandobras rose too. But when Éomer espied them there he smiled and said: "Come up here, O Fastred mine heir, and O Bandobras esquire of the Green Knight! Be you not wroth with me, as Meivel and his sister Andunië are wroth, for I have but your well-being in mind to keep you behind the gates."

"I know, Mother-Brother," said Fastred politely, and mounted the steps to his uncle. "Who is the rider? Do you know?"

"Meivel said it was a man riding a black horse," said Gimli, "and no," he added, seeing Bandobras' face light up, "it is not Legolas."

They waited a moment more, then they heard some sort of disturbance from down the hill, and Éomer gestured to several men to see to it. They ran back a minute later, accompanied by shouts and cries of alarm, and one of them said: "He will not stop, O King! He has ridden down the guards, and burst through the gates without pausing; he shouts he cannot stop his steed!"

"The horse is exhausted," said the other man; "you can hear him gasping and blowing from the alleys. But he climbs and climbs, his eyes wide with fear, and the man on his back cannot forestall him."

"Strange!" said Éomer with a frown; he put his hand on the hilt of his sword, and loosened it; Fastred could see the guards at the door draw their own swords, and wondered whether his small knife would be sufficient, or if he should risk missing the excitement, and go to his rooms to fetch his own weapon. Soon he could hear the commotion too, hear the clack and clatter of hooves on the cobblestones, and the cries of people, and overall the voice of a man who had shouted himself hoarse: "Stop, stop! You damned beast, stop, I tell you!" Then round the corner to the courtyard burst a huge black destrier, slick with sweat and foam, eyes rolling, and upon his bare back rode a man in tattered clothes, bloodied and covered in soot and dirt. He was pulling on the horse's mane, for he rode with no tack, and could not control the animal. Then Bandobras cried: "Piukka!" and Fastred recognized Legolas' war-horse.

Piukka's gallop faltered, and his great feathered hooves slipped on the pavers of the courtyard with a horrible scraping clatter; he swung his huge head round to look at the crowd round the king, eyes rolling, blood and foam spraying from his mouth. The man on his back shouted again, and with a terrible bellow Piukka crashed forward upon his chest, neck outstretched, and his rider leapt clear. The horse lay heaving and groaning, kicking with his great black hooves, and Fastred could see fresh blood flowing freely from his nostrils. Ignoring his uncle's cry of warning he rushed forward with Bandobras to the horse's head, where it lay upon the stone pavers; he dodged the huge hooves where they churned, the horse trying to rise, and then realized Andunië was beside him, her slim brown hands competent, composed, wiping the blood away. "You stupid horse!" the rider was shouting; he stumbled to his feet, and staggered over to where Piukka lay, taking the horse's muzzle from Andunië and pushing her aside, sobbing for breath. Piukka wheezed and groaned, his great ribcage heaving, his brown eyes glazed and staring; then the hooves went still, and he looked up at his rider; Fastred could have sworn he saw in the destrier's eyes a look of weary satisfaction. But the man was not happy; he was weeping, and holding Piukka's head, and fighting off the hands of Éomer's guards; he was saying again and again: "I could not stop him – he would not stop – he would only run and run – O you damned horse – I told you to stop – why would you not stop!"

Piukka was struggling for breath; Fastred could hear the great lungs heaving and laboring, and saw the foam and sweat and blood on the horse's face. Andunië sat back, her green eyes hooded, and watched the rider as he knelt, pulling the destrier's head upon his lap, and stroking the wet black mane, weeping and calling out – "A leech; bring to us a leech! The horse – he would not stop – I could not stop him!"

Someone put his hand on Fastred's shoulder, and the boy turned; Éomer was there, his sword sheathed, and he was looking at Piukka, his gray eyes sober. "Fastred," he said, his voice very low. "Go to the stables."

"But – " Fastred started to protest; he looked past his uncle and saw Léodwyn standing beside Belegtilion; the Elf's face was stricken, and Léodwyn looked frightened.

"The stables, Fastred. Now." And Éomer pulled him to his feet. But at that moment Piukka gave a terrible gurgling groan, and the rider began to wail, and when Fastred turned he saw the man cradling the big head in his arms, limp upon the thick black neck; he saw the destrier's empty eyes, and the tongue loll from between the teeth, and then he knew that Piukka was dead.