The morning was bright and fair and cool, with a brisk wind whipping the cattails and lilies round the stream beds, and rippling the surface of the broad shallow Onodló. The boys could see tiny fry in the dark shallows, darting to and fro; above them dimpling the glassy surface were striders and dead leaves. Thin sunrise-gold clouds mottled the blue sky, and when Fastred stepped into a low pool he startled a flock of ducks, which flapped and grunted at him, heaving their unwieldy bodies into the air.

Tamin looked up at the sleek fowl, his pale eyes bright, and fingered his quiver-strap. “Shall I shoot one?” he asked, watching the ducks lurch away.

“Nay,” said Fastred carelessly. “’Tis not our shallows but the Dunlendings’, and I should fain have it said we took food from their children’s mouths.”

“Very true!” said Tamin with lively cheer, leaping lightly across the stream. “And anyway if we let the Dunlendings shoot the ducks then they will smoke them, and I have yet to taste aught so fine as their smoked fowl.”

“Yes!” Fastred laughed. “It is quite good is it not? Even Bandobras could find nothing about it to disparage.”

“In truth ‘tis good simply to walk about with stomach filled,” said Tamin, holding out one hand to Fastred to help him navigate the stony ford. “I have been on short rations so long I had forgotten what a proper meal tasted like.”

The boys walked in silence for a while, watching the larks and grebes squabbling in the shoals, and hearing the wind whisper through shifting grasses, whistle amongst the cattails, and rustle the willow branches. Far above them a hawk shrilled. Fastred looked up at it; it hovered overhead a moment, then veered off to the east. “I wish I could understand the speech of animals,” he said, thinking of Andunië.

“O as do I!” exclaimed Tamin. “Would that not be amusing, Fastred my friend? For we should know just what the beasts think of us, and why they act as they do, and what they know and how they feel. Can you imagine ruminating upon the thoughts of the hunting dog, or the ox that pulls the plough? And what must birds think of us! Though I think I should rather not know how a duck feels, or a fish,” he added thoughtfully; “’twould be melancholy to speak to one you were about to eat.”

“Yes, and think how pigs must feel, or calves,” said Fastred. “Why their sole existence is to be eaten!”

“At least they are well-fed, and have no job of work to do,” said Tamin practically. “That would make up for it somewhat, for their whole lives would be a long holiday.”

“Or a short one,” said Fastred, and laughing Tamin agreed.

They continued southward as the sun rose, sometimes in speech, sometimes in silence, ambling across the grassy fields with their hair tossed by the breeze; between them was the comfortable amity of two souls united in view and value, and two hearts that yearn for and are amply accorded affection. After a time they climbed a hill, and from the top looked over the rumpled landscape of north-eastern Rohan. Fastred caught his breath, for it had been a stiff pull, and set about admiring his imminent kingdom. He looked out over the blue swells like ocean waves, and smelled the burnt-grass scent of late summer; Tamin however furrowed his brow, and shading his eyes with his hand frowned into the east.

“What is it?” asked Fastred. “Your eyes are better than mine; what do you see?”

“There is a man on horseback on that low tor,” said Tamin, his voice quiet.

Fastred thought of Bréawine and Théalof, and his heart froze. “Has he seen us?” he whispered, sinking to his knees in the grass. But Tamin stood and gazed at the figure.

“Nay,” he said when a few moments had passed. “In truth I do not think he is looking for anyone. He simply sits there upon his mount, and his helm I am sure obscures his vision quite. I am certain he cannot see us, for I perceive he is but mortal man and anyway he is looking west not north.”

“What does he look like?” asked Fastred, feeling a little better. “Is it a man of the Mark?”

“I think not,” said Tamin doubtfully; “though I am unfamiliar with Rohan and its many types of folk. But I have not seen one such as this, with armor so bright and pennant of that color. For do not the knights of your uncle’s court bear green? And anyway that is no horse of this country; your people ride steeds swift and fine, with curved crest and firm croup; this destrier is more like unto Andunië’s and Brytta’s steeds, thick-necked and feather-hocked.”

“What is his pennant?” asked Fastred, wondering if he knew this strange knight. It certainly did not sound as though it were a man of Rohan, and in his twelve years Fastred had become acquainted with many knights during the tourneys and games in Gondor. “Though to be sure I know not whether to trust even them,” he thought with an inward grimace; “from what I have heard Théalof has dissembled his plots far south, and even a knight of Lossarnach may be suspect.”

Tamin squinted at the far figure a moment and said: “It is gray and black with figured silver; it is hard to make out from this distance but I think it is embroidered with vines.”

“Grapevines?” pressed Fastred, hardly daring to hope.

“Yes, perchance it is grapevines,” said Tamin doubtfully; “though as I said my friend it is difficult to see from here.”

“Silver on gray!” exclaimed Fastred happily. “And the knight, Tamin; is he shining and deep-chested in his cuirass, bearing a black lance with a square vamplate, wearing a frogmouth surmounted with a black cockscomb, and with an effusion of black curls come from beneath this helm?”

“He is,” said Tamin in surprise. “Know you this man?”

“I do!” said Fastred with a laugh, clapping his hands. “Why it is Mardil of Ethring – how splendid! O he is a fine man Tamin, and such good friends with my Lord Father and with Lassah too; he is brave and honest and loyal; besides which he is a capital swordsman, and true to the tip at the tilt. And if Mardil is here then perhaps many brother knights are not far behind. More allies, Tamin! O how good for mine uncle, that his friends come to his aid!”

“They come to your aid too,” said Tamin as Fastred gained his feet once more. “For you are Heir of Meduseld and this is your land so sadly divided.”

“Come! Let us meet him,” said Fastred, descending the hill. “I am sure it is for this reason Lassah sent us out this morn; he must have known in his heart Mardil was here.”

“More likely it is the birds told him,” said Tamin practically, but followed Fastred anyway.

They waded through the tall grasses into a shadowed dell. Fastred, perceiving no danger to him in the shadow of the tor, went ahead quite blithely; but Tamin suddenly paused mid-stride; he raised his face to the sky, his eyes wary. Then he took out his bow then, and fitted arrow to string.

“What is it?” asked Fastred, putting his hand on his sword hilt and looking round, though he could see nothing save grass in the shadows.

“I know not,” said Tamin slowly, his eyes darting to and fro. “There is something – a smell perhaps – “

“How can you smell me over your companion? Mortals are overpowering at the best of times, but Fastred is grown quite pungent.”

The boys spun, Tamin with bow cocked, and Fastred whipping out his sword. A tall dark Elf stood behind them, hands on his hips, smiling. He was clad in plain brown, but there was an emblem of crossed oak branches embroidered in gold thread upon his breast.

“Kaimelas!” gasped Fastred, his head reeling; then his heart filled with deep relief and he cast himself into the Elf’s arms, heedless of the memory of Kaimelas threatening to whip him. He pressed his cheek into the scratchy gold sigil and felt the valet’s arms surround him; he smelled of tarragon and sun-warmed bark. He could hear his heart beat, and the hitched breath in Kaimelas’ chest, testament to the arrow that pierced him many years ago. “O it is so good to see you!” he gulped; simply the sight of this Elf sent his mind back to Ithilien, to the safety of Dol Galenehtar, to the simplicity of his life ere he had become Éomer’s heir. Circling round his rather disorganized thoughts was the conviction that if Ithilien had come to Rohan then all would soon be well. “I know there has been no post coming out of Rohan, and we have gotten no post from Gondor, so we have had no news and have had no way to send news to you, and we were attacked on the Mering, and Meivel was wounded, and the Dwarves have gone to secure Helm’s Deep because there is treason, and then we were told Lassah was dead but he is not dead only very badly hurt, but Lirlindil died, and Piukka too, and then we were attacked, but Tamin’s father showed up to save us, and the Dunlendings also which is surprising but gratifying, and there is a great army coming down the other side of the river to the plains, and there will be a battle, and O Kaimelas have you brought soldiers with you?”

“You are a font of ill news!” exclaimed Kaimelas gently, dislodging himself from Fastred’s embrace and laying one long pale hand on the boy’s head. “Lirlindil dead? Well that is not surprising, for Hildwen his wife not two weeks hence did fall into swoon, and lies upon the couch senseless; she fades as do the autumn leaves in mute grief enwombed. Such was the bond of love and tender affection betwixt those two we guessed some harm had befallen our friend.” He shook his head, eyes aggrieved, and said sadly: “Poor Hwindiö! To lose his friend Lirlindil is bad enough; but should his sister fade in heartache shall he be quite alone in Arda.” He turned to Tamin, who stared up at him owlishly. “You may return your arrow to the quiver, Little One,” he said with a sigh. “I am indeed dangerous, but you need fear naught of me.”

Slowly did Tamin replace his bow and arrow, watching Kaimelas with care. He espied the gold sigil and said: “You … are an Elf of Dol Galenehtar?”

Kaimelas extended his hands politely. “My heart sings to see you,” he said, his face barely masking a smile. “Your presence is welcome to me.”

When Tamin hesitated Fastred said: “O do not be so suspicious, my friend! You came to me readily enough and I am but a mortal boy. Kaimelas is Lassah’s valet, and ere his wounds sustained a keen warrior of Taur e-Ndaedelos. You may trust him.”

Slowly Tamin’s face softened, then broke into an ebullient grin. Even the shadows of the little dale were brightened. He put his hands in Kaimelas’ and said, “To foregather with you brings joy to my heart.”

“What a daffodil!” exclaimed Kaimelas with a startled laugh. “O but you will be welcome in our court, Little One! Why I can see my lady wife now, fussing over you and dressing you in blue linen. Who is this, Lord Fastred?”

“This is Tamin Rúmilion, Kaimelas,” said Fastred, putting his arm round the blushing boy’s shoulder. “He and a great throng of Elves from Lothlórien have traveled through Rohan to reach Dol Galenehtar where they are going to swear fealty to Lass – to Lord Legolas. They came to our aid when we were beset up the canyon.” He waved his arm north-west, having but a vague recollection of what direction they had traveled. “And when Bandobras is given accolade and achieves knighthood shall Lassah take Tamin as esquire, for his father has granted permission gladly.”

“Ah!” said Kaimelas. “So this is the second half of the party from Lórien. We did receive word ere we departed Ithilien, O Tamin, that Orophin your uncle gained King Thranduil’s keep with three hundreds; I see now why your people were delayed. If such doings are common here in the Mark, Lord Fastred, your regime shall be fraught with trouble. We knew already about the army; in fact it is for that reason we have come – Théalof sent word to his erstwhile allies in Gondor for aid, to which they have responded; though to be sure he shall be rather surprised when he finds upon which side of the lines they position themselves!”

“Good!” said Fastred earnestly. “How I hate him Kaimelas! Wait ‘til you hear what he has done – what he did to Lassah – what he has done to the Dunlendings and to mine own people! O he is a wicked fellow! I cannot wait ‘til the battle is engaged for I wish to try for his neck myself.”

Kaimelas looked surprised but Tamin earnestly said: “O I have no doubt you could so do! Why you were so fierce with that captain you slew; I was so pleased for you slew him so well. I do not even think he marked you took his head.”

“I wonder if he went headless unto Mandos?” asked Fastred thoughtfully, and Tamin laughed. Kaimelas pursed his lips, looking keenly at Fastred.

“Much has happened to you, Lord Fastred,” he said; “you have grown much I perceive! But why are you out here and not at Meduseld? We have felt our lord’s presence nearby but I should have thought you would be with your uncle.”

“Well when Brytta said Lassah was slain we went to fetch his body,” said Fastred. Then he remembered how they had quit Edoras and blushed. “Er … I fear I have run away again, Kaimelas,” he said with contrition. “Perhaps I ought to have been whipped after all, to discourage me from this nefarious behavior.”

“I do not see why, when you wax so good at it,” smiled Kaimelas. “But I perceive you have seen Mardil! Will you go to him? He dwines upon the crest of the hill though he balks not at such lackluster duty, for he is a stout fellow. But to be sure ‘tis a dull job to be the bait for a mislaid lord, and two such youths as you shall brighten his morn.”

“You mean he is not on watch?” asked Fastred.

“In full sight, and wearing his helm beside?” laughed Kaimelas. “Nay; he is not so unintelligent as that! Galás set him upon the hill to draw out any wandering folk from the creases and folds of this country. There are twenty of us round the tor, watching for visitors.”

“Elves only, or men too?” asked Tamin.

“Both!” said Kaimelas. “There are some of your Lord Father’s Rangers in the mix as well, Lord Fastred.”

Fastred gasped, and then seemed to have a hard time exhaling. His head felt very light and his heart began to thump. “Father?” he stammered. “Father is here too?” His vision swam as an overwhelming surge of homesickness flooded him, and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to run to his Lord Father’s side and never be parted from him. That he was constrained to remain in Rohan made his heart wring the worse, and to his disgust he felt his lower lip tremble. He bit it hard, and the sting of pain drove the melancholy away. “Where is he?” he asked, noting that though his voice was rough it was at least steady.

Kaimelas smiled; he saw the boy’s affliction. “Go to Mardil,” he said gently. “When you have spoken to him – and assuaged his ennui – he will show you where your Lord Father is.”

“Thank you, Kaimelas!” said Fastred earnestly, and giving the valet a quick fierce hug he took Tamin’s hand and led him up the hill.

Mardil turned his head when he heard the crunch of feet on the grass; they could not mark his face behind the heavy visor, though the eyes in the darkness of the helm twinkled. His destrier shifted its great feathered hooves and flicked its tail. It was a horse of Dale and not discommoded by the sight of two children. The boys approached, and the Silver Knight raised one gleaming gauntleted hand to the helm and lifted the visor. Sure enough it was steadfast Mardil; Fastred saw the gray eyes and handsome face, and below the helm and over the aventail spread a quantity of black curls. Mardil recognized Fastred then, and his kindly face broke into a smile.

“Fastred son of Faramir!” he boomed; his voice sounded hollow and ringing behind the bevor. “How remarkable! Yet perhaps not so much so; you like your Lady Mother are passing fair at showing yourself where folk least expect.” He dismounted, his armor rattling, and drove his lance into the earth where it stood upright, the black and silver pennant stirring in the breeze. Removing his gauntlets and helm he bowed, and his thick curly hair fell round his shoulders. Fastred inclined his head to him and said:

“Mardil of Ethring! Pleased beyond measure am I to engage you here upon the plains of the Mark! That you appear unsought devalues not your company, for we have dire need of such mighty knights as you.”

“I thank you, Fastred Prince of Rohan, for your generous words!” said Mardil. He turned politely to Tamin, who was staring wide-eyed at this steel-clad man; the boy had never seen a knight clad cap-a-pie and was unsure what to think of such finery. “And I greet you too, child of the Eldar!” he said laying his hand upon his breastplate. “For I perceive you are a friend of the son of my Lord Faramir’s and do justly accord you salutation for such cause.”

Tamin blushed again, but his face illuminated in a brilliant smile that dazzled the knight, who stared amazed. “Does he greet me as a prince too?” he asked Fastred. “O please do tell him for me, Thank you sir, but I am merely the son of a march-warden.”

“He does not speak Westron,” said Fastred to Mardil. “He thanks you for your gesture but begs you to know he is of humble birth.”

“His proximity to such illustrious persons elevates him far beyond his station,” declared Mardil. “Do you please tell him then O Prince Fastred, that I am Mardil son of Múrin of Ethring, called by the men of Minas Tirith the Silver Knight. And who is he, this child of the Eldar, who befriended by Fastred of Ithilien rivals the morning sun with his fulgent countenance?”

“Tamin Rúmilion of Lothlórien,” said Fastred, thinking: “First a daffodil; now the sun herself! If I loved him less I should grow rather peevish.” He wondered what his family would think of Tamin, and if he would be jealous of their regard; he decided however that to borrow trouble is to triple the interest and that Tamin deserved all the compliments he received. He considered that perhaps his Lady Mother might love Tamin too, and if his Lord Father would let him use the bowyer in Ithilien, or practice with the targets in the citadel fields. That put him in mind of how long it had been since he himself had drawn bow with his father, and the wrench of homesickness tore at him again; he wanted so much to see his father again. Aloud he said, “And now O Mardil will you direct me to my Lord Father? For it has been some time since I have foregathered with him and I am anxious to see his face!”

“Of course!” said Mardil gently. He turned, his armor gleaming in the sunlight, and pointed to the east. “See you that little stand of trees, cresting the high flat hill?” he said. “He and Galás and diverse knights and soldiers await Lord Legolas there. If you wind through that little valley alongside the stream you will find steep hewn steps in the rock face; ascend and find you your Lord Father and be reunited with him, for you have been as sorely missed as have you your folk.”

“Thank you, Mardil!” said Fastred, and he and Tamin ran down the tor. Mardil watched them go, his eyes tender and his lips curved into a smile; then with a sigh he retrieved his lance and remounted to resume his lonely watch.

Fastred and Tamin raced alongside the stream toward the hill. They scattered rabbits and voles and set a flock of quail bursting from cover, peeping with alarm. At last they came to the rock steps and scrambled up, laughing breathlessly, using their hands as well as their feet to pull themselves up the steep slope. They clambered over the last step at the top and dashed into the dark fir wood.

“I hear voices!” said Tamin, pointing ahead, but Fastred was too winded to reply. Then they suddenly burst into a clearing. Standing and sitting round the remains of a large bonfire were many men and Elves, some in armor, some in plain tunics; however but one man commanded Fastred’s attention, and without checking his pace he flew across the clearing and into the startled man’s arms. He did not care that all round him were people talking and laughing, for he had found his Lord Father and at that moment it was all he wanted. He buried his face in the plain black doublet and wrapped his arms round his father’s waist; he felt the man embrace him in turn, and heard him laugh disbelievingly:

“Fastred, my son!”

“O Father!” gasped Fastred, seeking in vain to find his breath, but he had run too hard. “O Father – I am – so glad – you are here! I have – missed you – “

All round him were men speaking, and Elves laughing; he heard Galás’ merry voice addressing Tamin, and the boy answering shyly. At last his father drew back, and taking Fastred by the shoulders looked down into his son’s face, his gray eyes shining.

“Look at you!” he said, shaking Fastred a little. “Grown so tall! Why you have nearly reached my shoulder now.”

“It feels like it has been years since I have seen you, Lord Father,” panted Fastred. Then remembering his manners he turned to find Tamin; the boy was standing biting his lip, and watching the strangers round him with caution, shifting from one foot to another; many men had gathered round and were looking at him with interest, the Elves as well as the men. Fastred took him by the hand and brought him to stand before his father. “This is Tamin Rúmilion my friend, O Father,” he said. “He is an Elf of Lothlórien and is going to be Lass – Lord Legolas’ esquire, so be sure to include him in feast-time so he can learn Westron. Tamin – “

Tamin opened his mouth to speak to Faramir but at that moment Fastred was nearly bowled over by two other boys, bigger than he and clad in heavy chain mail. “Fastred!” they cried; it was Halgond and his brother Baldor, who was as tall as a grown man. “You are here, you are safe!” said Halgond, laughing and embracing him. “And we are going to fight in a battle – Father says we are old enough now – so you must be sure to fight with us – “

“Peace, my sons,” said Hallas coming up. He had need to use a cane, for he had been hamstrung many years ago; however on horseback he was as good a knight as any of Lossarnach. He smiled at Fastred and said: “Halgond has spoken of little else ere we quit Ithilien! I believe he has missed you more than his own family.”

“Brothers are born to quarrel,” said Aldamir coming behind him, his brilliant scarlet surcoat a splash of color in the clearing. “It is the proximity I deem.” He inclined his head to Fastred. “Your highness,” he said solemnly.

Seeing the Red Knight in that number gave Fastred a horrible feeling in his stomach. Long had been the years of conflict betwixt Amon Din and the wandering Dunlendings and deep were the wounds of bitterness that separated them. Yet he himself had offered peace to Errakh-Hem, and accepted without question the Wildmen’s help in battle. Would Aldamir countenance fighting alongside the Dunlendings his old enemies? How could those griefs be countered? Knowing what he knew of the Red Knight and his long friendship with Lassah, Fastred thought perhaps Aldamir would take part but reluctantly, and only after an awkward interval upon the field of muster; Fastred had no desire to offend Errakh-Hem when it seemed the Wildmen were ripe for friendship, yet to demand compliance of an old ally such as Aldamir would be the depths of insolence. He knew Lassah could have diffused the situation easily had he been present, but as Lassah languished upon a cot in Errakh-Hem’s hovel the task would have to be accepted by Fastred himself. He cursed the whims of his birth that made him the sole ambassador between three peoples, pragmatically accepted the consequences of his authority, and straightened his tunic. Taking a deep breath he approached Aldamir, and holding out his hands he said:

“Aldamir son of Castamir, Lord of Amon Din, Red Knight of Gondor! Happy is the day you join in battle with your allies, for you are strong and just and loyal and your sword-arm is mighty to save. Indeed the sight of you inspires in me hope that the sad events occurring in my lands shall soon be overturned, for with you fighting by my side I doubt not the perpetrators of these vile deeds shall be justly chastised and peace wrought once again upon the plains of the Mark.”

Aldamir blinked in surprise at these accolades, and behind him Fastred heard Galás say with a laugh: “Why, what a diplomat! Is this what they teach princes in Rohan?” But ignoring them Fastred pressed on hurriedly:

“Yet I should be remiss in withholding my recent deeds from you, O Aldamir son of Castamir; for I have outside convention accepted and offered protection of ones you have recently called your enemies, the Wildmen of Dunland, who have I admit these past years made themselves a pestilence to the peoples of Amon Din through diverse acts of unprovoked aggression and thievery upon you. Yes, I do assure you, O Red Knight, that I acted in full cognizance of these acts, and gave unto their leader, Errakh-Hem, the hand of friendship, proposing clemency and concord between my people the Rohirrim and his the Dunlendings; also know, O Aldamir, that the peoples of Errakh-Hem live to the north in poor villages, women and children and men alike, and are eagerly awaiting peace so that their fortunes might be amended. And also know this, Red Knight and friend of Legolas of Dol Galenehtar, that the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen did this eve past lay hands upon the heads of the children of Dunland and bless them, and Errakh-Hem their leader speaks to him as friend, even as do you.” Fastred took a deep breath; his heart was hammering, and everyone in the clearing was silent, listening to him. Aldamir was regarding him gravely, though in his eyes was a look of alarm; at least, Fastred thought, he was not shouting – Fastred could not bear it when people shouted at him. “And so, O Aldamir son of Castamir, I do trespass greatly upon my Lord Father’s friendship with you, in that I will ask of you to withhold enmity and extend the hand of reconciliation unto the folk of Dunland, for when I am king of Rohan they shall be under my protection, and I would fain have discord between mine allies.”

There was silence in the clearing, broken only by desultory birdsong, and the occasional far-off whicker of a horse. Fastred was terribly aware that all gathered round were staring at him, and watching Aldamir, upon whose face was the look of a man who knew not what to think. That good knight opened and shut his mouth several times, and blinked, and twisted his eyebrows together staring hard at Fastred. Then he looked past the boy to Faramir, but to Fastred’s relief his Lord Father said nothing, though Fastred could feel him at his back, comforting and safe. At last Aldamir cleared his throat, and said stiffly: “You ask much of me, Heir of Meduseld, for the Dunlendings have harried my people, and slain my farmers, and burned my villages for many years.”

“I ask no more of you than I ask of myself, or of my Lord Father,” said Fastred stubbornly. “For did the Dunlendings not seek to slay my Lady Mother, and mine unborn sister Hísimë?”

There was a chuckle behind him; Galás apparently thought this a good riposte. Aldamir looked round at his friends, at Hallas and Faramir, at Araval and Cirien who had come up beside him, and then to Fastred who stood with Tamin. At last he took a deep breath, and taking Fastred’s hand in his own he said:

“Fastred son of Faramir, Prince of Ithilien and of Rohan, I know that in times of war desperate measures are sought and used, and strange alliances made. Do I not remember mine own amazement when first I gazed upon the Green Knight’s visage! Yet I have found in Elf and Dwarf and perian alike loyalty and honor and friendship. Shall I not take the same venture with a fellow man? I shall seek peace betwixt Errakh-Hem and me; I shall pursue reconciliation between our peoples, the folk of Amon Din and of Dunland. Yet this payment I ask of you: that in instances of feud and conflict you will be our peace-maker, for treaties are slippery things, yet I would not discount friendship with Rohan under any circumstance.”

Fastred exhaled heavily, and his shoulders slumped with relief. “How pleased I am you are in accord with me in this!” he exclaimed, grinning up at the knight. “And now we must needs all go down to the plain, and I shall set up a meeting-place, and you and Errakh-Hem will make vows of amity, and then we shall all go to mine uncle’s aid, to rid my land of those two pestilences Théalof and Bréawine. And when all is done we will sit round the council-table and see what trade agreements we might find. For if we are to swear friendship there must be something to tie it together besides good-will, which is fleeting; trade and money however are rather more compelling when one is rethinking one’s actions.”

Galás burst out laughing at this, and even Faramir chuckled. Aldamir smiled and looked round at his brother knights and said: “How canny he is become! With Rohan and Gondor and Dol Galenehtar combined in his soul he shall be a terrifying king, whether on the battlefield or in the council-chamber.”

“I do not mean to press you,” said Fastred earnestly, “but time runs short, and it will be at least a day ere Errakh-Hem and the men of Gondor can be made to trust one another enough to fight side by side. Galás, Lord Father,” he said turning to them, “how soon can you get everyone into the valley? For the sooner we get everyone fighting on the same side the sooner I can get back to Meduseld.”

“We will deploy at your command, O Prince!” said Galás bowing deeply and laughing. “But let me warn Tyarmayél, for she has charge of the destriers and war-dogs.”

“Good!” said Fastred. “Thank you, Galás.” He turned then, and saw his Lord Father regarding him; in his eyes was a look of fierce pride.

“You have done well my son,” said Faramir smiling at the boy. “You choose friends well, and draw all together in harmony that our positions are strengthened. I am pleased with you, Fastred of Rohan.”

Fastred flinched at that; he did not want to be reminded he was Éomer’s heir, but it was impossible to ignore. “Thank you, Lord Father,” he said forcing a smile, and Faramir squeezed his shoulder, and walked off calling to Beregond to muster their Rangers. Fastred sighed, and turned to Tamin, who was standing with Halgond; the boys could not speak and were looking rather shyly at each other. Taking a deep breath Fastred clapped his hands and said: “Very well! It is up to us boys to get things going I suppose. Halgond, we must needs teach Tamin Westron and teach him quick, for I am so tired of translating.”

“You move things very quickly my friend,” said Tamin, heedless of Fastred’s words. “Why do you press the men so?”

“I want to get back to Meduseld,” said Fastred. “I am tired of sleeping on the ground, and eating roast game. I want my feather-bed and a bath.”

“And pastries?” asked Tamin hopefully, and Fastred laughed.

“Yes!” he said. “And pastries of course.” And taking his friends by the hand he led them out of the clearing to the steps.