Ch. 23 - “Westu hal! My brothers!”

“So much fuss!”  Holdlith said as she climbed down from Lightning.  Éowyn smiled at her friend’s grumbling.  The citizenry of Edoras had left the walled city a little bit after daybreak and with only a few ruffled feathers the exit from the city had gone relatively well.  Holdlith had been the lesser of the ruffled feathers.  The others did not bear thinking about.

Earlier that morning…

Éowyn looked down the main road leading to the lower edges awaiting Holdlith’s arrival.  She sent one of the apprentice Riders to see if her friend needed help along with any others along her road.  She was at the stable with Gamhelm to see carts matched to horses.  So matched they would proceed to the community green in front of Meduseld to be loaded with trunks of necessary items.  Gazing down the street she breathed a sigh of relief as she spied Holdlith bustling toward the stables followed by Aethelred, another of the apprentice Riders tasked with the duties of the Muster.  The young Rider looked a little harried.  “Holdlith!” she called out as they came into easy hearing distance. The older woman nodded her acknowledgement as she continued to bustle up the path to the stables.  

“I am here My Lady!  And what was so urgent that I meet you here and not at the Green,” She looked at Aethelred.  “You can relinquish my trunk now!” her words laced with asperity.  She looked at Éowyn, “This young one would not let me carry a thing, not even the satchel with provisions!”

Aethelred looked down at the feisty old woman as he set down the small trunk and satchel, “Begging your pardon ma’am, but those were my orders!” he said deferentially and a little abashed.  “Weren’t they, My Lady.”  He looked at Éowyn for support and confirmation.

Éowyn hid a smile as well as she could manage, “Aye, Aethelred, they were.  I hope Mistress Holdlith did not give you too much trouble.”

“Oh no!  My Lady.  Nothing I couldn’t handle.”  said the young Rider.  Holdlith shot him a look and he backed up slightly, Éowyn noted with amusement.  She would have to get the full story from Holdlith later when they were on the trail.

“Thank you, Aethelred!” Éowyn stated, “Report to Háláf for another detail.”  Aethelred nodded, fist on heart and beat a hasty retreat.

“Well you certainly made an impression on that young Rider!” Éowyn eyed her friend.

“Aye, well…,” Holdlith shrugged her shoulders, “He is a nice young man, but he wouldn’t let me do anything!  I suppose I was a bit irascible.” Holdlith tried to look contrite but failed miserably. “But enough of that.”  She gave Éowyn a firm stare, “Why have you called me here?”  She motioned to the stable that surrounded them.

“Aye, Well…I want none of your arguments…” She said thinking of the earful poor Aethelred had withstood. Holdlith eyed her. “You-,” Éowyn stopped and began again, “I want you to ride Lightning for the duration…until we reach Dunharrow.” 

“My Lady,”  Holdlith began to object.

“Please, Holdlith.  Do this for me.  I need to know that at least one I care about is in as much comfort as I can give them.” Éowyn stated, desperately trying to keep the pleading from her voice.

“Ah, Mistress,” A voice came from behind them, “You best do as My Lady asks.  You know how stubborn she can be.”  Holdlith looked around Éowyn to see Gamhelm approaching.  She nodded to her husband’s longtime friend.  Many times had they shared laughter over mugs of her lavender mead after a day’s work in the King’s stables. She sighed as a pang of sweet memory crossed through her mind.

“Aye, Master Gamhelm.  Don’t I just know it.” She looked at Éowyn and the hopeful look in her eyes.  “If it will give you comfort, My Lady.  I will.”  A look of respondent joy took hold of Éowyn’s face.  Holdlith was glad that by her acquiescence she gave Éowyn such momentary joy at a time of great upheaval.  Such things were important in the times they were in.  But still she saw the strain in her friend’s eyes, the responsibility pressing on her shoulders.  “Come here, child,” Éowyn stepped closer to her old friend.  She gently laced her fingers through Eoywn’s hair and simply breathed quietly for the few stolen moments before departure.  Gamhelm saw a brief wince cross Holdlith’s visage and then it was gone.  She opened her eyes and kissed Éowyn on the forehead.  She smiled, “All will be well.  I see this.” Éowyn looked at her, eyes brimming with unexpected tears. “Go now, lead your people,” the old women instructed.  Éowyn nodded and left to see to the matching of cart to horse.

Gamhelm stayed briefly and stared at his old friend, he was one of the few that knew of Holdlith’s gift.  For in a chance encounter she saw that he would meet Gamwyn when he had all but given up hope that he would find anyone to share his life with, “I saw a look of pain across your face…What did you see?”

The old woman looked at him, “What I said is true.  All will be well.  But the path she must take…” She shook her head.  “My heart breaks for her…”

Gamhelm looked at the door by which Éowyn left.  “We will be there for her.” he stated fervently.

“Aye, we will.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Éowyn looked around her as she walked along holding Lightning’s reins.  After a brief respite Holdlith was back on top Éowyn’s horse and they were headed up a slight lightly treed incline.  She looked back at the column she was guiding to Dunharrow.  She had told the apprentice Eored to ride alongside the column and for those at the back to be mindful of stragglers or anyone who looked to be having difficulties.  Some of her people were going to have problems along the way.  She wanted to push a pace to get to safety as soon as possible but also at a speed that would not overly tax some of her people.  Once again she fought off anger at what had caused such a drastic action.

“My lady?”  Éowyn quickly reshelved her anger, it was of no practical use while they were on the trail.  Battle rage had no place when fleeing for safety she thought ruefully.  She turned to the voice.

Háláf nodded, fist on heart, “The column is proceeding in an orderly fashion, my lady.”

Éowyn smiled, “Thank you, Háláf!  Continue to patr–.”

She was interrupted with an urgent “Wargs!”  Immediately she turned to Holdlith, “I am sorry, my friend.  I am in need of Lightning’s speed.” 

Gamhelm was instantly at the side of the horse helping Holdlith to dismount.  Éowyn gained Lightning’s seat and shouted to Gamhelm, “Continue leading the column, my friend.  Take them to Dunharrow!”  She donned her helmet and pulled her sword and it created a sunflash as she held it aloft.  She shouted “Riders to me!” She was thankful she had donned her corslet of mail for the journey thinking there might be trouble along the way. 

Leoufwine had raised the call.  He rode up and informed Éowyn, “There, My lady! Cresting the second hill behind this one!”

“From only the one direction?” Éowyn questioned quickly.

“I scanned quickly all around and I saw no other movement nor any other sound that would indicate flanking.”

“Good enough! Thank you Leoufwine!  Formation column now!” Éowyn called out, as she sheathed her sword and readied her strung bow.  “Remember your formation training.  You were born to this and have been trained well.  Now is your moment; now you are apprentices no longer.  You are,” she emphasized, “Riders of the Mark.  Remember we are one wall, separate links forming the strong wall of offense.” They would ride at the wargs; to Leoulfwine’s eyes there had been five in total, and lead them away from the column of citizenry.  She took the few seconds she could spare to look each of the twenty-five apprentices in the eyes, some whom she had come to think of as little brothers.  “I have faith in each one of you!”  She fervently declared, “Disperse now and do your duty.”  A single line at first, to loose arrows in the wargs and hopefully bring some down or at least weaken them, and then every other one would hang back to form a second line should any break the first line. 

“Forth Eorlingas! Death!” Éowyn shouted and young voices joined as they charged.  She was in the vanguard, if the front of 25 riders could indeed be called a vanguard.  She got off two shots at the approaching wargs.  She caught the chance to see that most arrows had found their targets; some more successful than others.  One of her arrows hit the mark catching the lead warg in the eye causing it to pull up short; another stuck in the shoulder of the second warg.  The rider rolled off the first suddenly halted animal.  Elfwine unseated and killed a rider, his black and green fletched arrow embedded in the filthy creature’s neck. After two volleys she held up her fist and bellowed, “Break!” which was the signal for every other one to pull up and form a second line.  

She saw Háláf’s spear sink into the chest of a warg rider, unseating him.   Leoufwine decapitated the rider as it tried to stand and fight.  But the warg continued to charge.  Heohelm countered it on horseback slashing down into the thick neck muscle rendering it immobile.  It was a clean strike and Heohelm took a split second too long to admire the stroke when an arrow struck him in the forearm.  Éowyn quickly stowed her bow and let the battle rage fuel her strength.  Knees touching Lightning’s flanks she rode straight for the rider whose arrow had found Heohelm’s arm and swiftly decapitated him but such was the unexpected resistance of such a stroke that she lost her seat and Lightning bolted.  

She briefly lost her bearings and sighted a rider bearing down upon her as she rolled away. He fell forward, his axe still held unswung, out of his back on an arrow with red and gold fletchings sat embedded. She looked up to see Háláf slinging his bow and pulling his sword once again.  He nodded briefly; his eyes searching for the next target. Éowyn nodded and quickly regained her feet.  She surveyed the battle quickly.  Aethelred was fighting the last rider.  Elfwine came up the back and stabbed the foul creature in the back as he was about to land a blow on Aethelred’s shield side.  Éowyn saw that the boy’s shield was hanging lower on his arm.  The lack of mobility indicating injury of some sort. Elfwine’s thrust ended the threat.  

With the last of the wargs finally dispatched due to the efforts of many Riders upon the remaining three; the battle was over.  Éowyn sank to the ground exhausted and spent.  “My Lady!” she heard and immediately Háláf was at her side.  Battle over he looked upon her with the alarmed eyes of a little brother. “Have you taken an injury?!”

Immediately she replied, “No, at least I don’t think so!” to allay his fears.  She ached all over with her sword arm shoulder most of all.  She wondered why particularly and then remembered the decapitation and thought “Theodred…you did indeed try to tell me that a decapitating stroke would take it out of you as well.  “You were right.” she murmured.  

“My lady?” She looked at Háláf who bore a quizzical look.

“Nothing!” She averred. “Help me up, Háláf.”

“Aye, My Lady.”  

Standing Éowyn looked around.  She saw carnage all around her.  It was her duty to find out if any of it was upon her people.  

She knew that Heohelm had taken an arrow to the arm.  She knew without looking that Háláf was at her side as she walked toward Heohelm.  “Háláf, gather all Riders to me.  I must assess.”  Having not received immediate assent she looked at Háláf.  She could see him trying to stay stoic but she could see the fear of a little brother beneath the warrior’s veneer.  She paused and smiled softly, “I’m okay, Háláf…Thanks to you!” Troubled blue eyes looked back at her.  The young Rider was trying to keep a harness on his emotions.  She knew that Éomer or Théodred might have dressed him down for not immediately performing his assigned task.  She understood the reason.  A warrior must control his emotions in fraught situations; lives might depend on quick action.  But she did not have the heart for that; not at the current moment. And Háláf had fought bravely and well in what was his first actual encounter but he was still only sixteen.  “Háláf, listen to me! You have fought so well and now we must count whatever losses we have."  She squeezed his arm reassuringly and then placed her hand on his heart.  “Go now and gather the others.  Have one of them gather the horses if they have strayed. I am okay.”  

Doubt still resided in his eyes, but he nodded his head and placed his fist upon his heart, right where Éowyn’s hand still was, the brief touch between their gloved hands seemed to give him strength and resolve.  He straightened his shoulders, and his eyes had cleared somewhat, “At once! My Lady.” he turned to collect all together.

She hastened toward Heohelm, “Heohelm, how is the wound?"   

Heohelm looked at her, pain written across his eyes. “I think it is OK, my lady.  I can ride.”  Éowyn hid a smile.  There was not a Rider alive who would admit to not being able to ride.  

She knew something of the healing arts, having listened to both Leóulf and Gamhelm go on about her various injuries.  She noted that her assessment in the midst of battle was wrong.  The arrow had gone clean through his forearm.  She breathed a sigh of relief.  Having to extract an arrow was so much more difficult than a through and through wound. Far more painful and far more chance of infection. Even so the wound was bleeding a good deal.  She reached into a pouch she had at her side.  She had packed linen strips that she used to wrap her hair back.  The Riders were gathering around by this time.  Leóulfwine stood at her side.  She shoved the wrapping from her pouch into his hand,  “Hold this and and don’t let it touch the ground.”  She felt for her wineskin, but felt damp at her side.  She held up a damaged empty skin. “Blast!” She looked up and saw Elfwine’s wineskin at his side undamaged. “Elfwine, give me your wineskin!”  The young rider immediately unstrapped it and handed it over.  She had Heohelm take a swig and then said quickly, “This is going to hurt!” and a second later squirted the wine on the open wound on Heohelm’s forearm.  The boy yelped, pulled his injured arm and then regrouped trying to stoically resist any further onslaught of pain.  She inwardly cursed herself for that and took a glove from Heostar, another Rider standing close and said, “Bite down on this!” to Heohelm, who obediently opened his mouth to bite down on the proffered leather glove. “There’s my strong, brave lad!” Éowyn said fervently as she reached into another pouch on her side and withdrew a small bag.  Out of it she pulled a measured amount of healing herbs used for wounds. "Bless Leóulf," she murmured.  He had insisted that she take a few herbs for emergencies and keep them on her person with the admonishment, "you never know." She packed the wound with the herbs. "Help me, Leóulfwine, wrap the bandage over the wound while I hold the herbs in place."  Leóulfwine deftly managed the initial wrapping and then Éowyn finished it off. "Nicely started.  Leóulf always did say you would have made a fine healer."  She noted the young man blushing with the praise.  She wrapped the long bandage around the forearm tight enough to stem the bleeding but not tight enough to starve the hand and fingers of blood.  She winced with every grunt of pain that escaped the injured boy’s attempt at stoicism.  

She gave Heohelm a few more swigs of wine and kissed his forehead, “Good lad!  Can you stand?” He gave a nod as she gingerly helped him to stand. 

“Right. Now, any more of the wargs?”  She asked, perhaps belatedly.  Many heads shook.  “Good.” She took a few moments to look at each young Rider.  They were all dirty, disheveled; some with a stricken look in their eyes and some bearing injury but Bema be praised, all twenty-five were upright and mobile it seemed.  She swallowed past a lump in her throat.  “You have done yourselves proud today.  You did as you were trained to do.  You are Riders of Rohan.  I can think of no higher words and I was honoured to draw swords with you today.”  

Heads bobbed, fists on hearts.  Then, “If you don’t mind my saying, My lady.  You draw a fine sword and pull a swift bow.  How?”  It was Elfwine, “My sister can hardly even pull a light bow and never mind hitting a target.”  

Éowyn paused in her answer, pain of memory and experience buried beneath so much duty and regret.  The secret that had shaped so much of her life no longer seemed necessary to keep. Reality leaching the secrecy of all importance. She simply stated the truth.  “I trained with my brother and cousin for many years.”  

“Then might I say, My lady,” Háláf started, “They did a very good job!” youthful enthusiasm coloring the otherwise sober moment. The other Riders nodded their assent.  Éowyn looked at them all.  Admiration and approval in young eyes.  It filled her heart with an acceptance that had always been hoped for, seemingly in vain since the time she discovered that she was never to be a shieldmaiden.  She realized she had just become one.

She smiled, “My brothers-at-arms.”  She nodded and placed her fist on her heart.  “I thank you!” her eyes filling with tears of acceptance, or exhaustion or happiness she could no longer tell, but it didn’t matter, she looked up seeing them saluting her, fists on hearts; eyes filled with respect.  “Westu hal! My brothers.  Now we re-join the column and get our injured cared for.  Then we make for Dunharrow!  To see our people safe.”   And this time the word did not taste like ash in her mouth.  It was duty, still but a duty to her people that she gladly accepted.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N:  I read up on how medieval arrow wounds and how they were handled and extrapolated from there.  Poor Heohelm.