Ch. 24 - “I ask that we come together as People of the Mark.”
After the wounded among the Riders were tended, Éowyn once again led the column forward through the Harrowdale, the narrow valley that led to the plateau upon which Dunharrow was shelved. She walked alongside Gamhelm upon his horse. “We approach Upbourn. It nears evening. Shall we stop for the night there? Perhaps Lord Dúnhere can give shelter to those who most need a roof and a warm fire.” She looked up at her long time friend and confidant.
“Aye, My Lady. We can ask if we find Lord Dúnhere at home.” Gamhelm advised.
Éowyn paused, realising that Gamhelm spoke truly. Dúnhere in all likelihood would be from home in the field with his Riders as liegemen to Erkenbrand, his uncle. “Quite true, my friend. But even if that is true, I still suggest that we pause in Upbourn. I’m sure many of us could benefit from a bed.” she said pointedly a little louder.
“Don’t think I don’t know who you are talking about, Child! I’m fit as a fiddle and ready for more.” Holdlith said from Lightning’s saddle.
“Perish the thought!” Éowyn said, looking up at her friend, not bothering to hide her smile. “I was not thinking about you at all.”
“Humph” Holdlith expressed. Éowyn smiled even wider while she looked away. She loved Holdlith’s newly displayed feistiness. It gave her heart that Holdlith was not seeming worse for wear at this sudden upheaval in life. But not all were faring as well. She thought of Eadfa and his wife; of Deor and Saeryth though she gave a half smile at the fact that Deor would never admit to any problem. “Men!” she muttered.
“Oh, We’re not all so bad, My Lady.” she looked up at Gamhelm, half smile still in residence upon her face.
She was about to reply when Holdlith stated, “Oh Aye, you are!” but with something of a twinkle in her eye.
Gamhelm was about to defend himself when Gamwyn on his other side chimed in, “Don’t deny it!”
Gamhelm looked at the three smiling ladies, sighed. Three phillies strong-willed and proud. He had no defense and held up his hands, still lightly holding the reins. “I give!” And decided on a change of subject, “So we are going to stop in Upbourn?”
Éowyn sobered immediately, “Aye, I do think we must.” Holdlith sighed inwardly at the passing of the moment of levity. These were the times and it was understandable, but regrettable all the same.
Approaching the village of Upbourn Éowyn decided that a few should approach first so as not come upon the small settlement enmasse. She asked Gamhelm and Háláf to accompany her and bid the column wait and the Riders to stay watchful along the column.
As the three rode into the village Éowyn saw the busy industry of a settlement at peace. She sighed as she realised she was about to rent that peace asunder with the arrival of unwelcome news and the unexpected onslaught of the citizenry of Edoras. Her heart heavy with the unwelcome tidings of currency, she dismounted Lightning and looked around. She saw neatly kept houses primarily made of wattle and daub and thatched roofs, a few of which were in some state of disrepair. She made a mental note to tell her uncle of the need for more thatching and then she reminded herself that Théoden and Éomer were off to the Fords of Isen and nothing was normal at all and her heart clenched in memory and in grief. She took a moment to draw a deep breath and threw her shoulders back. Gamhelm noticed this action and knowing it almost always ran concurrent with strong emotion that Éowyn was trying to suppress, he ventured “My Lady?”
Éowyn looked up at her old friend with tired eyes. She gave him a chagrined smile, “You know me too well, dear friend. But it is well.” She reached up and patted his free hand that rested on his thigh. She finished her surveying and spied the blacksmith’s shop which was inset from the road that ran through the village. “The village smithy, We will start there.” The others nodded and nudged their horses to walk the short distance to the blacksmith’s shop, the sound of hammer striking metal ringing out, though general noise began dissipating as villagers noticed the three horses approaching. Éowyn smiled as she caught the eye of a woman laden with a basket of root vegetables, carrot tops flopping over the basket rim. She had traveled beyond Edoras on monthly visits to the surrounding villages to see how they were faring. She had visited Upbourn a few times in the last couple of years staying with Lord Dúnhere on the overnight visits, so it was no surprise that she saw recognition in the woman’s eyes.
“My Lady! You have come again. … And so clad?” She said, referring to the chainmail that Éowyn was wearing.
“Aye, Waerhild,” Éowyn started as she dismounted, “So good is to see you.” Clasping hands after Waerhild placed her basket on the ground. “But we do not just visit. Do you know if Lord Dúnhere is at home?” She asked knowing what the answer was likely to be but unsure of how much the village woman would know.
Waerhild’s brow wrinkled in thought, “Oh no, My Lady. He left to serve a tour, along with my husband.” her eyes became worried, “Do you bring word, My Lady? Has something happened to them?”
“No, no. Nothing like that,” Éowyn comforted, praying that her words were not false, but given the times she could no longer be sure of anything.
Waerhild still looked doubtful, but did not press the issue. She confided, “My husband doesn’t usually talk of such things. He thinks that if he doesn’t talk about his tours I won’t worry. Which of course causes me to worry more.” She sighed and shook her head. “Men!” she stated with the same fervor Éowyn had employed earlier. Éowyn smiled in a commiserating way. Warehild continued, “Perhaps you should talk with Baldred. He might know more.” she pointed towards the smithy.
Éowyn nodded and opened her mouth to speak when Háláf chimed, “That’s exactly where we were headed!”
Waehild looked at the Rider and noticed how young he was. This gave her a slight pause and she stated in her forthright manner, “You’re a bit young to be a Rider, aren’t you lad?”
Háláf bristled ever so slightly, “I am as old as I need to be!” he stated, caught off guard and tried to appear larger as a result. Catching the strange tenor in Háláf’s voice she looked at her young friend and then noticed a few sprouting blonde hairs on his chin. He was indeed growing up. He had already fought his first battle and his words, that he was as old as he needed to be, were tragically true.
“That is part of the reason we are here…” Éowyn stated as matter-of-factly as she could. “Come with us to the smithy and you can hear our tale.” She did not finish with “of woe.” There was no need, the woe would be self-evident.
They approached Baldred at work in the smithy. He looked up, “My Lady!” in a voice of surprise.
She smiled and nodded, “Baldred.” She waited as he hastily wiped his face with the cloth that had been hanging from his belt. She waited for the brief moment thinking that at least he could feel a little more kempt before she shattered his illusions of a calm, well ordered world.
“What brings you here today, My lady?” he looked as he sought the well-known cart full of necessaries that usually accompanied her. He looked at her companions, the first, a gruff older man. Hidden behind a serious visage he saw in his eyes a loyalty and companionship that spoke to the need to crush a cup of good ale together. The other, a young boy, dressed in the armor of a Rider. Young and yearning to prove himself. He’d always been a good judge of character or so his wife was always telling him. He truthfully did not know about that, but he felt these two were of good heart as they sat atop their horses accompanying the Lady Éowyn. Observing the Lady, clad as she was in a quality corslet and an air of ill-tiding written across her face, a pit of dread began forming in Baldred’s stomach. He tried to brush the feeling aside.
“Baldred…” Éowyn was unsure how to tell of such tidings, “Have you heard from Lord Dúnhere?”
From her tone of voice, the pit of dread flared against all efforts to quell it, “No My Lady! Not since he and his Eored left on their last tour some three weeks past…” He saw the lady’s face go white.
Éowyn, unaware her face was already telling the story, thought before she spoke, “I do not know the outcome so I cannot speak to news ill or for good. But a battle took place at the Fords of Isen.” Waerhild to her left drew in a short gasp. “Léoleth!”
Éowyn looked on her with empathy and compassion, “As I say I do not have the particulars. He may well be fine if Béma is merciful.”
“We thank you the news of this battle, My Lady-”
Éowyn looked back at Baldred with sorrowful eyes, “There is more and that is why I am here.” She took in a deep breath. “My uncle and brother have taken the Eored of Edoras and are leading them as reinforcements for the Gap. And I have been tasked with leading our people out of Edoras to the safety of Dunharrow.”
People began to gather around as she was speaking. “Edoras emptied?” and “What is happening?” were some of the murmurs she heard all about her.
She pushed her own feelings aside as she realised that these people, her people once again needed her strength and not her fears and doubts. “Aye, these are ill tidings that I bring; ill tidings for us all.” she started looking around at her gathered people and spoke in what she hoped was a confident voice, free of worry. “But the times now are asking for our strength and our courage as a strong people who have withstood much. And we will stand as always…together. Strength and courage are instilled in us as a people. It is a sorrow that I bring these tidings but ill times bring strange messengers. I ask that we come together as People of the Mark. I know it is in your hearts.” She again looked around at the gathered assembled and saw shock but also resolve. Emboldened she continued, “I ask for one thing right now. Shelter for some of Edoras’ residents who would greatly appreciate a roof over their heads tonight. The rest…we shall make do! Do I have your consent? Will we stand together!” She ended, her voice rising.
The gathered villagers answered with many voices but the same sentiment, “Aye, together we shall stand! For the Mark! And the Lady Éowyn!”
At the last acclimation Éowyn’s face colored. Gamhelm viewed his lady’s face and shook his head in wonder. Éowyn had never understood her power to command the loyalty of those around her. Before now she always thought it was because she was the King’s niece and his influence was reflected through her. Gamhelm watched as she nodded to the assembled people and began conversing with Waerhild and Baldred. People saw through her title and station; they saw through to her heart and her genuine concern for their well being. That was why they warmed to her. He smiled, pride and love for this daughter of his heart searing his soul.
“Waerhild, can you organize about ten houses or so for some of our elderly travelers,” Gamhelm heard Éowyn ask as he shook himself from his musings.
“I shall, My Lady!” came the answer laced with pride that she should be tasked with such an important charge.
“Gamhelm?” Gamhelm turned towards his name spoken.
“Aye, My Lady?”
“Can you and Baldred scout out where the large tents can be pitched so people can bed down for the night? In spots that are sheltered as much as possible from the winds.”
“Aye, My Lady! It will be a cold one tonight.” Gamhelm affirmed as he dismounted his horse and tied the reins to the hitching post by the smithy.
“Aye, Gamhelm! It will be. Some will just have to cope with the elements. Those who are most able to deal with the weather.”
Baldred ventured, “If I may, My Lady. We do have a small inn to bed a few people down.”
Éowyn stated, “Thank you, Baldred. We shall fill the floor with as many as we can.”
In the end they did best that they could which was of course too much for some and not enough for others. Eadfa and his wife Gwenrith were very happy to bed down in Waerhild’s little house. She even insisted that they take the bed as it was made for two. Holdlith had been less happy insisting on no fuss until Éowyn once again had to guilt her into accepting a place by the warm hearth of another villager.
Saelith however was a difference unto herself. She insisted on the best accommodation possible. “I simply must have a room to myself!” She declared among the gathered villagers and refugee citizenry of Edoras.
You simply must have a boot up your backside! Éowyn thought loudly. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. That failing she turned on Saelith. “Come with me!” in a tone that brooked no dissent and she led her away to a small room of the smithy that she spied that would confer some privacy.
She closed the door making an effort to calm herself. Having nominally succeeded she turned to face Saelith who stood making every effort to appear the wounded victim. Whatever calm Éowyn had achieved fled as she saw the aggrieved look on the woman’s face. “What gives you the right to demand anything!” she started in a low fervent tone. “You see what we are up against. Your husband along with my uncle and brother have ridden off to war to see us safe. We have emptied Edoras in another effort to keep us safe!” Her voice growing more voluble as she spoke. “How can you carry on as if you were the ONLY one who is being inconvenienced. How can you not see the hardship this is causing others! People have left their lives and livelihoods behind at risk of coming back to the destruction of all they hold dear! But still you stand here demanding the best of everything.”
Saelith declared, “You will take it! Why shouldn’t I?”
Éowyn just stared at her, wishing she was once again ten years old and able to take down Saelith once again. Pigtails and fists flying. But she could not. She was to lead her people as best she could. She drew breath and spat out, “I will sleep outside in one of the large tents hoping there will be enough warmth for us all. And so will you!” she added vehemently. “I will not allow you to take whatever comfort I can give the sick and infirm of these good people to accommodate your selfish need for your own comfort. These are good people facing incredible odds. We will survive and come through this.” She declared. “But if you cause any more trouble I will tie you to our slowest donkey trailing at the end of the column!” She finished, “Is that clear?”
Saelith stood silently glaring sullenly. “Or rather… I will tell Haere how shamelessly you acted and how selfishly through this whole ordeal.
Saelith looked somewhat panicked then, “No, please don’t. He thinks that I am perfect. I cannot have him thinking otherwise.”
Éowyn saw then the fear behind the bravado, and felt a twinge of sympathy for her old nemesis. “Very well. But can you at least try to cooperate?” She paused for a beat or two, “Or I will!”
She left the little room to rapturous applause. Apparently the room was not as private as she had meant to be. She flushed red. Saelith then appeared to stony cold silence. Éowyn noticed this. She was torn; she could understand the reaction of the citizenry of Edoras. Saelith had been a pill all day and had not won any sympathy with all of her airs and complaints, but Éowyn had seen her reaction when she had threatened to tell Haere. Saelith was scared, as were they all. But she chose to cover her fright with complaining and putting on airs; not her wisest choice.
Éowyn raised her arm for attention, “Aye, I first want to thank the villagers of Upbourne; these good people have opened their hearts and their homes and I am very grateful.” The villagers severally bobbed their heads in acknowledgement of Éowyn’s words. “But also I wish to say a thank you to the citizenry of Edoras. It is a hard journey we undertake. And words may have been misspoken at times. I ask that we impart forgiveness and kindness to those struggling to cope. We all need a little kindness and understanding at times and this is one such moment.” She looked at Saelith, “Friends?” Saelith looked at the proffered hand and thought twice about not taking it but quickly realised that the entire crowd was watching for her reaction. She took Éowyn’s hand and her heart was warmed unexpectedly by the cheer that arose from the crowd. A piece of bitterness broke off from her heart and dissolved.
Éowyn looked upon her old nemesis and let go of a portion of her own resentment allowing it to resolve itself. The times that she suspected lay ahead made resentments of the past pale in importance. She forgave Saelith, understanding that she could not help herself. Saelith had been raised to be an ornament, either to dangle from her father’s arm or to hang on her husband’s. She knew no other way and was lost when taken out of her world, out of her element. Éowyn almost pitied her and she thanked her uncle for showing her another way forward. Training had brought both joy and pain almost in equal measure but it also gave her herself, not as another’s ornament but as her own person. She would follow this path that had been given to her wherever it would lead.
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