Ch. 26 - The Everpresent Wound

The rest of the journey up the Stairs of Hold proceeded without incident but every time Éowyn heard a rock slip or gravel loosened and fall caused her already strained nerves to light with new anxiety.  She tried to calm herself because she knew she needed to be present and in the moment when she finished her ascent.  She needed to organize the flow of refugees as they reached the top.  She thought of the map she had been given by Théoden the night before the Eored’s departure.  It was a map of the layout of Dunharrow.  It reached far back into the hills and under the Firienfeld. If the map was to be believed there would be more than enough room for all the refugees. There was a reason that Dunharrow, not Helm’s Deep, was considered to be the primary place of refuge.  It was huge, well built and not very easy to get to.  

She was among the first ones to set foot on the Firienfeld.  She looked at the standing stones that lined the avenue that led to the entrance tunnel to the underground refuge.  Old carved reliefs were cut into the walls, thick squat figures that she thought might have been once menacing but curiously made her feel protected instead.  She tried to remember what her tutors had said about the history of Rohan but she had always been more interested in the end of her lessons than the content of them because that meant it was time to sneak off to training.  She sighed at her younger self.  Who knew that history lessons would prove useful.  She might have paid more attention if she had suspected any such future use.  

She looked at Gamhelm whose face appeared far more peaceful than it had since they had left Edoras.  She ventured, “You feel it, too.  Don’t you?”

Gamhelm turned at her voice, “I feel something, but it is not menacing.  It is said that certain protections had been laid on these stones long ago, even before our people came down from the North.  I never gave them much credence, but now…”  He looked at the stones and then high overhead, “...I don’t know but I do feel protected.”  He shook his head as if to clear such fanciful thoughts. He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a half smile.

Éowyn looked around and took in Gamhelm’s words.  She caught Holdlith’s eye as she looked up at her friend who had a given sense of knowing things unexplained, at least unexplained to her. Wise, old eyes met young blue ones.  “I feel it too, child.  I do not know what it is, but it does not menace.  At least it does not menace us…”  She smiled. Éowyn returned her thoughtful smile and inexplicably bolstered by her surroundings she moved forward with confidence.

After the rock slab covering the entrance was rolled out of the way, unobtrusive tracks allowing it to roll rather easily, she walked down a slightly slanted ramp that led into an expansive cavern bolstered by thick column supports that lead to more pathways.  Surprisingly she felt warmer the further in she went and she could see some wood furnishings off through one of the larger alcoves denoting this was a place of refuge not a relic.   

Looking around Éowyn thought that the word “cave” did not do justice to the structure she saw before her.  The entrance was large enough for a horse and cart to enter without too much trouble after the rider had disembarked.   “It is miraculous,” Éowyn whispered as she reached up into Lightning’s saddlebags.  Thinking about it, she and an advance party should have climbed the stairs and got an idea of the layout before the rest ventured the Stairs.  She sighed, shaking her head at her lack of forward planning.  She directed Háláf to order a halt to the progress upon the Stairs of Hold. “Tell them to hold.  It is not ideal but we have to make a plan for their entrance or it will just be Chaos!” 

Háláf, fist on heart, replied, “At once, My Lady!”  Éowyn noticed just then how self-assured and confident her young friend was sounding.  She stopped him with a hand on his arm.  He looked at her, attentive as ever.

“Háláf, I just want to take this moment to say how wonderfully you have taken to this whole situation.  I am quite proud of you.”

The self-assured young man blushed as only a sixteen year old boy can blush.  He nodded, “It is all owed to you, My Lady!”

Éowyn quickly replied, “Pish!  I may have kept the opportunity open, but it is you that have done the work!”  She smiled. “Now hop to!”

“Aye! My lady!” Háláf scurried off with a smile.

She turned to see Gamhelm gazing at her, eyes filled with pride.  “I could say the same of you!”

Éowyn looked at her old friend, “Pish!  I have good people, that is all!” She said deflecting praise once again.  “Come let us lay out this map and make some plans!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

In the end they were able to house all.  There were plenty of rooms and much in the way of tables and chairs but beds and bedding was sparse.  What bedding there was is what was brought with them.  There were some provisions set by that were meant for long storage, various meads and wines.  Gamhelm chimed in looking about one of the storage rooms, “Well! We may not have a lot to eat but with all this mead and wine, I don’t think that we will care nearly as much!”  Éowyn laughed as Gamwyn slapped him upside the head. “Ow! Woman!”

“Oh! like that hurt!” Gamwyn retorted with a smile.  “You’ve been kicked harder by a baby mule!”

Gamhelm rubbed his ear and looked at his ladywife smiling. “Mmmmhmm!  Now that you bring up Mule comparisons…”  

“Peace you two!” Éowyn said perfunctorily as this was common conversation for the two.  “Let us visit the storerooms.”  

~*~*~*~*~

After inspections of the first few levels it was determined there was enough durable goods such as mead, wine and oats stored in Dunharrow.  Théoden usually had a garrison stationed there and saw to the upkeep and provisions but usually for a small garrison, but with the provisions they brought with them they could suitably exist for a few weeks before matters would need to be addressed differently. 

Éowyn studied the map and was intrigued.  “Gamhelm?” She said, pointing to the page for the fourth level of the refuge, “Come here.” Gamhelm looked over from the conversation he had been having with Háláf.   He sent the Rider off with instructions.  Fist on heart, Háláf departed.

“What is it, My Lady?”  

“This symbol on the map,” she pointed to three wavy lines on the lower left corner of the parchment. “I looked at the legend and that part has been obscured.  I am curious as to what it is…”

Gamhelm looked at the curiosity steal across her face and light her eyes, reminding him of her younger self before the troubles in her life started, “But you have suspicions?”

Éowyn looked at her old friend, “I do,” she said with an excited tremor in her voice.  “What do you think?  Shall we explore?”

“My Lady…” he said in a voice he had not used in quite a while.  A voice frequently used on a headstrong young philly bent on trouble.

“What?” She tried to look innocent, “We need to know what this cave has.  It might be useful…or something we need to warn the populace about.”

As usual Gamhelm could deny her very little, and she had not looked so happy in years.  He heard himself saying, “Well then we need to check it out.”

“Aye, we should!” Éowyn affirmed most fervently.

“I will tell Háláf where we have gone!”

“If you must…I mean that would be the responsible thing to do.”

~*~*~*~*~

After much convincing Háláf stayed behind with the knowledge of where they headed.  Éowyn carried the pertinent map page and the slightly luminescent stones that dotted all the caves provided just enough light to read it by.  They made their way down ancient steps to the third level.  The air down on the lower levels seemed almost as fresh as the top level if a little damp.  The expertise of long-ago cave builders was a marvel to behold.  Shafts had seemingly been built to provide air throughout the complex.  There were some cramped passageways, but also archways buttressed in stone and spacious rooms with sturdy columns large enough to be halls as large as the Great Hall in Edoras.

Following the map they were pretty sure that they had arrived at the point of the three wavy lines.  Éowyn saw an entrance and ventured forth through the small room lit by luminescent stones.  From afar the entrance looked dark but as she approached more soft light seemed to gather in the entrance that she could now notice was a stone archway.   She stepped through and Gamhelm heard an “Oh!”  He hurried through the archway himself and was stunned by what he saw. A softly glowing luminescent lake.  It was beautiful.  He looked at Éowyn to say something and was stunned by the enrapt look that Éowyn cast across the lake.  

“Oh Gamhelm!,” she whispered, “It is beautiful!” The water seemed shimmer, the surface changing colors from lightest blue to crystal to pale lavender as the rippling shifted almost as if by magic.  Looking into the clear depths Éowyn could see it was the stones forming the bottom of the lake shining through the water. 

“Aye, My Lady.  Such wonders as Arda has to show us!  Even in such times…” 

At the last phrase the spell was broken and Éowyn came back to herself.  She looked down at the clear, gently rippling water a few inches from her feet.  She bent to scoop some of the crystal clear water before Gamhelm could stop her.  She drank from her cupped hands the cool refreshing waters and began to choke.

Gamhelm immediately sprung to her side.  Éowyn immediately calmed and had a mischievous smile on her face.  “My lady!  If you were young again I would put you over my knee, giving me a start like that!”

Éowyn laughed and was at once apologetic, “I am so sorry, my friend.  I just could not resist.”  She gave him a sheepish smile that was laced with a last bit of mischief. “Forgiven?”

“I will once my heart stops beating like the gallop of too many horses on the charge.”

“We should return,” Éowyn stated after a small pause, somehow reluctant to leave this place of stillness and tranquility, looking around trying to soak up its quiet beauty.

Dunharrow was a marvel of engineering by ancient unknown builders.  It had rooms for sleeping, kitchens for cooking, wells for water likely from the underground lake, ventilation shafts and even a stable.  It was truly remarkable but now that she had seen her people successfully safe to Dunharrow, the restlessness once again resurfaced.  She was safely sequestered, she thought disparagingly.  In leading her people here she felt useful, as if she had purpose.  She had seen growth from many on the trail.  Háláf had grown into a leadership role so wonderfully well.  She burst with pride as she watched him organize and lead with confidence but also kindness and empathy.  And he was not the only one.  The other apprentices were apprentices no longer, they had drawn first blood in battle and they kept the column moving safely and well throughout.  Heohelm was still finding ways to help; still finding ways to be useful even with his injured arm.  She was so proud of them all.  But the most curious change had come over Saelith.  After their encounter in the stables in Upbourn, Saelith had stopped complaining, had stopped demanding that she have the best of everything, and started mucking in with the rest.  Éowyn walked into one of the kitchens where she saw Saelith with one of her fine silk scarves wrapped around her head keeping her hair back, ladling soup out with a smile on her face.  War really did bring strange changes. Saelith looked up from the soupline and met Éowyn’s gaze.   She smiled a commiserating smile and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “Who knew?”  Éowyn smiled back and mouthed “Thanks.”  Saelith nodded and continued to ladle soup and hand out oatcakes.

Seeing such cooperation should have made Éowyn content and she was but also frustrated.  They were here in Dunharrow, but the battle was elsewhere.  

“I know that look…” She turned toward Gamhelm’s voice.

“You know, sometimes it is a bother to be known so well.” Éowyn said with a chagrined smile.

“Aye, that is true.  But, this is not such a time.”  Gamhelm quipped cheerfully.

“My friend, you have never been one to take the side path…What are you meaning to say?”

Gamhelm said directly, “You have done an almost impossible task here.  Marshalling the citizenry of Edoras safely to Dunharrow with only apprentice Riders at your command-”

“They are no longer apprentices.  They have earned the right to be called Riders now!” She affirmed.

Gamhelm smiled.  Éowyn always defended others; always touting their achievements, but never her own.  “Aye that they have; you have led them so well.”

“It was easy.  They were well-trained.”

Gamhelm sighed loudly, “Woman!  When will you understand your own worth!  They achieve because of you!”

Éowyn opened her mouth and then realised this was not an argument she was going to win.  “Thank you, Gamhelm!”  she acceded graciously.  Then she ventured, “Then why do I feel it is never enough!”

“Because you are your father’s daughter, your uncle’s niece.  You were born to lead, born to serve.”

“I was born to fight!” she whispered in so soft a voice amid the general din in the room she thought it did not carry.  It had.  It sliced through Gamhelm’s soul.  

He did not reply because he knew there were no words that could heal the everpresent wound on his daughter-in-spirit’s heart.  His eyes misted and he gruffly cleared his throat, “Work to be done!” and he tried to make his escape but was caught by Éowyn’s hand.  She saw the tears in his eyes; her eyes filled with regret.  Regret that she had carried her troubles with her from Edoras and regret from the pain she had caused mirrored in her dear friend’s eyes.

She threw her shoulders back and smiled at Gamhelm, “And yet, once again. We move forward.  There is work to be done.”  Duty; always duty.

~*~*~*~*~*~

NOTE:   In researching how an area such as Dunharrow could house about 3,000 refugees from Edoras I began searching the internet for info as I do for many portions of my stories.  Many times I don’t list my sources or inspiration but this time I feel I must.  I was puzzling over how to safely house not just camp out in Mid-March in the mountains as is the time in Middle Earth during the Ring War.  Gondor by my research of all things Tolkien has roughly a Mediterranean climate.  Rohan to the north as more of a Central Asian climate more or less and is to the north and over a mountain range. Suffice to say it is colder especially in March.  I ran across and article about a discovery of an underground city in Turkey found bizarrely under a man’s basement that he discovered while renovating his basement it is call Derinkuyu and could hold up to 20,000 people comfortably.  Turkey is not quite central Asia, more Western Asia and a slight bit of southeastern Europe, but I feel it is close enough. Its origins are conjectured as are Dunharrow’s.  The   technology is to be wondered at, the problems of cave-ins and ventilation have all been solved and importantly to me at least the design worked.  Dunharrow is in a mountain but I think it is still a very good match for my needs.  It is a city underground and quite often and successfully used in time of war for refugees.

So it does not interfere with where the Paths of the Dead lead. I am saying that the underground and within the mountain structure are opposite the Dimholt forest that leads to the Entrance to the paths of the Dead. And it also spreads under the Firienfeld.

 J.R.R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien (ed.), Unfinished Tales, "The Drúedain", "The Faithful Stone"

https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Dunharrow#cite_note-5