The days had been very hot, high summer was in full flow in the Mark, but the riders and Eoreds were always vigilant, they knew from past experience not to be complacent and relax unduly…orcs were not bothered what season it was, they would attack, without mercy as almost every family in Rohan knew. But there had been no orc raids for a good few months and the people were enjoying life just as Eorl had wanted his people to do.

Eomer stood at his bedchamber window in Meduseld looking out over the land, the fields and meadows before him as far as the eye could see, the White Mountains bordering the horizon. Horses were running free over the grass and his heart beat faster as he gazed over the land he loved.

 It had been five years since he had been brought with his sister Eowyn from the Eastemnet after the deaths of his parents to the house of his Uncle, Theoden King. He remembered standing there in the great hall clutching his sobbing sister to him, her grip on him so hard he thought it would leave a mark, and himself trying desperately not to weep also, he was after all eleven and almost a man, but he could not stop the tears from falling. The King looked pityingly at his young nephew and niece, standing in front of him, cold, frightened and grieving most desperately for the loss of their mother and father. He stood and walked down the steps from his throne and gathered the sobbing pair into his arms, soothing them with that beloved rumble of a voice and loved them.

Eomer was now sixteen and had just grown out of that gangly stage when he felt he was all elbows and legs, and he was now tall and strong indeed he was taller than his cousin Theodred the crown prince who was thirteen years his senior, although there was still the promise of more muscle and strength to come to his frame as the years would surely bring. He was fair of face and caused not a few maidens’ pulses to raise when he passed by, although girl’s to him were a strange alien race, all giggles and whispers whenever he was in their midst.

At that particular moment his heart sang within him as there were no more lessons that day and his sister was being kept busy by the noble ladies of the court, which she would hate, he thought, and would surely complain about it to him later that evening in the great hall. Eomer had made plans to ride to the Entwade with three of his friends and enjoy the freedom of the day, feeling secure and safe in their own lands.

He walked down to the stable where his horse Cramleof was stabled and started to saddle him, he had a water skin and food from the kitchens to take for the ride and he was soon joined by his friends, Eothum, Deowine and Gordeph, they had their horses ready and had walked to the royal stables to meet Eomer.

“Greetings and well met, my friends,” said Eomer smiling at his companions.

They all gave a small bow to Eomer in reverence to his status.

“Shall we start, the sun is past its high and we will ride away from its heat, for the sake of the horses,” said Eothum.

“Aye”, answered Deowine, “A good ride to the river to cool down and back at our leisure.”

“Oh, a moment my friends”, Eomer suddenly slapped his hand on his forehead,” I didst not inform anyone at the palace as to my whereabouts this day and I know my uncle wouldst be most displeased if I did not relate this, I will not be too long, I need only find someone to pass the message on to the king,” he dashed off from the stables at a fast sprint much to the amusement of his companions. He knew from past experience if he did not relate his plans for the day a severe scolding would be in order and maybe the loss of a few privileges. The last time found Eomer quaking in front of his uncle, hearing his loud voice shouting at him and half expecting a blow   from his uncles’ mighty hand, so angry had he been.

                                     *************

In the halls of Meduseld the new councillor was pacing around with cat like tread, he came across so many unexpected conversations that way, and such talk could only serve his master well. He had been born in the Mark, indeed his father Galmod had been a close friend of the King in their youth, and it was for that reason that Theoden had appointed Grima to the high position he now held. He was a patient man, plans were forever formulating and reformulating within the machine of his mind. He had only to be careful and not over confident and the fruits of his schemes would come to fruition….one day.

He heard footsteps rushing into the hall and spun around to see the young Lord Eomer dash through the door gasping for breath and looking round wildly.

“Greetings, Grima”.

“Greetings, my lord,” Grima replied with a slight sneer.

“I wouldst ask you to pass a message to the King, would you be so kind,” Eomer asked politely, “I am riding out to the Entwade with some friends and will be back for evening meal.” Eomer garbled out his message as quickly as possible knowing his companions were chomping at the bit waiting for his return so they could get out onto the plains and enjoy the day, he rushed back out as soon as he had delivered his message.

Grima watched him go a, small smile curled on his lips, as Eomer raced back down the hill to mount up and he saw them gallop off out of the city and were soon out of sight. He continued his pacing round the corridors, silent as night, ever watchful, like a spider awaiting within its web.

He arrived outside the council chambers where the King was talking to some of his captains and heralds and waited until he was seen.

“Greetings, Grima,” bellowed the King, his deep voice echoing down the corridors, “Have you any tidings for the meeting today, good or bad?”

“Nay, majesty, I have no news or messages to bring this day,” answered Grima, bowing slightly.

“Good, good, then lets to business.” The King entered the chambers followed by his councillors and the afternoons’ discussions began in earnest.

                                **********************************

Eomer and his friends rode swiftly, the wind in their faces, the sun on their backs, enjoying the freedom and elation of being at one with the land and the feel of a fine horse under their command. It took a couple of hours before they sighted the Entwade and allowed the horses to slow down and walk at their own pace. Eventually they reached a good spot where the horses could be watered and the friends could relax and enjoy a rest. The horses were unsaddled and loosely tethered, enough slack given so they could reach shade, grass and water and wander not a little.

The food they had brought was soon unpacked and they sat together eating and drinking from the water skins, and they soon relaxed, the hot sun beating down, the land calm and quiet.

Suddenly Deowine spoke, “This will make us feel more at home.” He stated, producing two bottles of elvish wine from within his saddlebags.

“Where in the Mark did you get them from?” asked Eothum.

“From my mothers pantry” he replied, chuckling.

“Will you not get into trouble taking them,” asked Eomer.

“Possibly, but I hid some things to cover where they sat on the shelf,” Deowine laughed.

“Hurry up and open them then,” Gordelph said hastily,” my throat is dry as dust.” They all laughed as the bottles were opened and merrily did they drink from the bottles heeding not any possible dangers which could be upon them.

            *****************************************

Theodred rode swiftly with his Eored, he was on patrol and had been out of Edoras for some days, not a sign, scent or rumour of orc had been sighted. This made the prince not just a little bit nervous, things had been too quite as of late, not that he wanted to lose any more good riders under his leadership, he was afraid that something more brutal and unexpected was about to happen. They stopped for a light lunch by a fast flowing stream, taking turns to guard the area, fast riders were already out spying the land ready to report back to their lord, if any sightings were made of the enemy. The men chattered softly to each other about many things, wives, children, sweethearts and of course the horses they tended and bred.

Theodred ever alert noticed a dust cloud in the distance rushing towards the troop, he stood up craning his eyes to make out who was hurtling towards them, it was Hammas, one of his outriders. The rest of the Eored noticed their Lord and stood beside him to await the rider reaching them. He rode in haste so the news must be grave indeed, eventually Hammas reached the company, he jumped down from his horse, hastily scanning the crowd of riders until his sight fell on his prince

“My lord,” he gasped, “Orcs!”

Theodreds eyes narrowed ominously, “Where, Hammas?”

“On the outskirts of the Entwood riding to the Entwade, a  party of about fifty, my lord.”

“To arms,” shouted Theodred to his Eored, he sent a fast rider back to Edoras to warn and inform the king of an imminent orc attack, then they quickly packed up their small camp and remounted their horses and rode swiftly to follow the trail of their most hated enemy. 

Eomer and his friends sat by the stream, the two bottles of wine long gone, a lethargy from the hot sun, the long ride and the wine drifted through his veins, if he was not careful, he would be asleep in no time, and that would not do, not out in he open like this. He forced himself to stand up and walked to the river and splashed cold water over his head and neck the more to rouse himself from his drifting, he eyed the other three, Deowine was prone on the grass, already asleep and snoring softly. Eomer filled his helm with water and crept over to him and poured the water over his slumbering form. Deowine sprang up in shock and on spotting a guilty Eomer threw himself at him causing both of them to roll down the bank and fall into the river. Luckily it was not too deep there and they both came to the surface coughing and spluttering, Eothum and Gordeph were doubled over with laughter on the bank.

Eomer and Deowine dragged themselves out of the river and collapsed on each other with mirth, when suddenly Eomer froze and his head shot up and he looked around as if someone or something was approaching.

“What is it Eomer? What have you heard?” asked Eothum.

“I know not,” he replied, “I have a sense and foreboding that I have never felt before.”

“You think, maybe, that we are in danger and should return to Edoras?” Gordeph whispered looking round the plains with panic in his eyes.”

They looked at Eomer with awe waiting for his reply, he was after all the son of one of the greatest warriors and Marshals ever known in the Mark and such tendencies were ever passed down to their offspring. The youths were armed only lightly, they would have never left the city without at least carrying some means of protection. They all wore thick leather over jerkins, had light helms on their heads and carried weapons, only short swords and daggers to be sure but enough to protect them from any wild beast that may be in the vicinity. Long they had been at practice on the use of such weapons, all the menfolk of the Mark were trained thus, it was a need, for the protection and safety of the people, their lands and indeed their own way of life, but they were also untried in the field of battle, deemed too young and inexperienced to join the Eoreds and fight with more seasoned warriors.

Eomer spoke after a short while, “ I am not sure, my friends, methinks though we should be returning to the city before anything might befall us, we will follow the river downstream to cover our scent and muffle the sounds and then turn to home from the rapids.”

Even at such a young age, his companions agreed and obeyed Eomer’s orders, he was a natural leader and would one day be one of the best warriors and fighters in the Mark, indeed a son and nephew to be proud of. They quickly packed up their gear and saddled the horses not talking overmuch but listening and being alert to any dangers. Soon they were mounted and made ready to set off when a loud cry made them spin round and about a dozen orcs stood on a small hillock, snarling and emitting bloodcurdling threats to the youths. Before they could either respond or pick up a weapon the orcs fired their bows and one of the arrows shot Eomer’s horse Cramleof in the chest causing him to collapse to the ground and taking Eomer with him. On pure Rohirric instinct and also being well taught by his Father, Eomer rolled on impact with the ground thus causing himself no harm, but Cramleof was mortally wounded much to Eomer’s dismay. The horse whickered and his screaming neighs filled the air around them drowning out the war cries from the orcs bearing down on the four youngsters.

                   *******************************************

The watch on the gate towers of Edoras saw the out rider galloping hastily towards the mighty city of the Horselords, and  they knew from the speed of the rider that the news could be grave. The gatewards opened the smaller door into the city recognizing the rider as Rawtern from Theodred’s Eored.

Rawtern swung down from his horse and approached the doors of Meduseld itself, where he was shown in almost immediately. He was led the way to the council chambers, where the King was still convening a meeting with his advisors and captains. A herald knocked on the oaken door and announced the arrival of Rawtern.

Rawtern strode a few steps to the head of the table and bowed to the King in the Rohirric way, and knelt on the floor in front of his Lord.

“Rise, Rawtern and convey your news, grave though it might be,” rumbled the King in his deep voice.

“Majesty,” gasped the exhausted rider, “I bring news and tidings from the Lord Theodred, a large party of orcs have been spotted coming from the direction of the Entwood and following the course of the Entwade, my Lord Theodred is to give chase and battle to destroy these creatures, but there may be more and he has sent me and other riders to warn the city and outlying settlements of the news and to prepare for possible attack.”

“My thanks, loyal Rawtern,” answered the King, “rest you now and refresh yourself.”

“Nay Theoden King, I must ride back to the fray to fight and support my Prince.”

Theoden smiled at the loyalty shown to his son and heir from the riders of his Eored.

“Yes, but first a bite and sup whilst you stand and a fresh horse before you ride back to the fray.” The rider nodded his aquiescence, and bowed again before leaving the chambers to seek his repast. The councillors all started talking at once about this news and the effects it could have on the mark, Grima was strangely quiet, a small frown on his face, a look of uncertainty and contemplation.

The King and council soon reconvened to talk over this new attack on their lands and people.

“No one is to ride out until we are sure the dangers are past, keep the women and children safe behind the gates of Edoras until such time.” Ordered the King, and then spun around as he heard a woman’s frantic voice imploring to seek audience with him. He stood and left the council chamber immediately to where his guards were trying to hold back a flustered and panic driven woman close to tears with desperation. He recognized her as the widow of one of his late captains who had died in an orc attack protecting and serving his King and The Mark.

“Guards, release her,” he barked, “Pylene, is it not? What troubles you good woman that I can assist with.” The king asked kindly.

Pylene approached the king and curtsied deeply before gathering her senses and courage to speak to the King about her fears.

“Majesty,” she gasped, “Please forgive this intrusion, but I am sore afraid, I heard the news that orcs have been sighted by the Entwade, Lord my only son Gordeph has ridden there earlier today with some friends, he is young yet Lord and has not the experience to battle as had his late father, and I would be grateful if you could see to his safe return.”

“Of course, good woman,” replied the King, “We have a rider who will be returning to the fray and will convey this news to the Prince, but say which other of his companions were to ride with him this day so that I may relay news to their families also.”

“My Lord, two of the others have Fathers in the Eored, Eothum son of Eothred and Deowine son of Deomund, I speak for the mothers also,” answered Pylene.

“But what of the third, who is he?”

Pylene frowned a little at the Kings question, “But surely you know my lord, the third is your nephew the young Lord Eomer.”

The King stared back at the townswoman, his face went a deathly white, but from fear and anger it was at that moment hard to tell.

The king’s councillors glanced at each other fearfully not knowing how their Lord would react to this news, as up to that time no one knew the whereabouts of Eomer, presuming he was safe within the walls of the city.

The King’s voice rang out loud and clear, “Did no one know my nephew was outside the city walls until this hour?”

“Nay, my Lord, we knew not where he may be this day.” They replied.

Pylene was escorted from the audience chamber with a promise that all possible would be done for the safe return of her son and all the missing youths.

Rawtern was summoned back into the King’s presence, he bowed before his King and awaited his words and orders.

“You will ride back to my son and report that we acknowledge his news and plans for the demise of our enemy, Rawtern,” he stated, “But you must also relate this to him, four youths rode to the Entwade this day, two of them have Fathers known to you, Eothred and Deomund, one being the son of the late Captain Eodelph and the last being my nephew and cousin to the Prince, Eomer son of Eomund. They may be in grave danger, being as yet untried and untested in battle and being also scantily equipped for warfare of this sort. You will apprise my son of this news, inform the fathers who ride in the Eored …” he paused and lowered his voice, “Please bring my nephew back safely.”

The king then marched out of the chambers, his face set and grave. He was angry, more than that, he was furious. He could not believe that Eomer had left without informing someone as to his plans, especially after the last time he left the city with his friends. True they had not gone far and it was only to go bird watching but by the time Eomer arrived back in Meduseld, half the riders had been summoned to search for him and the King and Theodred were frantic with worry and concern. He had scolded his nephew and knew he had frightened him which was why he was bitterly disappointed that four years on Eomer had disobeyed his strict orders.

                  ***************************************************

Theodred and his Eored were riding at full gallop down the course of the river Entwade to meet full on with the renegade band of orcs and destroy them. He had sent scouts out in all directions to relay any news back to him. Two of them were riding towards the Eored, he called a halt and waited for the scouts to reach them.

The two men dismounted from their horses and bowed to the prince.

“What news, Hammas?” barked Theodred “Speak!”

“My lord prince, the enemy has been sighted, a few leagues down river, they are well armed but have not picked our scent up yet, I deem, we can take them by surprise,” he replied.

Theodred smiled grimly and ordered his Eored into two halves to ride down to meet the orcs taking them by both sides at once to prevent any to escape and to destroy them all.

They rode like the wind, hooves pounding the earth, intent on their quarry. The orcs were soon aware of their pursuers and tried to flee across the fast flowing river only to find both banks held by the Rohirrim. The number was greater than originally stated by the scouts, others had joined the attack but they were no match for the warriors of Rohan who slew them with ease and chased the fleeing, trying to escape the battle. When all was over and the orcs carcases were burnt on a pyre and the wounded were tended, Theodred ordered an immediate search of the vicinity, in case any had escaped their nets.

There had been no fatalities and only light wounds, Theodred ordered a rest and kept a watch on the camp while they waited for the scouts to return with any information.

Soon a rider was seen in the distance hurrying to them but it was not one of the scouts, he was riding from Edoras itself and could only be Rawtern bringing a message from the King.

He stopped in front of Theodred and bowed to his Prince, “My Lord, I have related our news to the King and he has put the city on alert. I also have bare grave tidings. Young Lord Eomer left the city this morning without the King’s knowledge, three friends rode with him, to ride to the Entwade, but no word of his present whereabouts is now known. I am to inform Eothred and Deomund as their sons are with him and also the son of the late Eodelph, of your Eored.”

Theodred looked shocked as he listened to this new news, he too like his Father was surprised that Eomer had left Edoras without relating his intentions. He remembered the last time when this had happened. Eomer was only twelve and had gone off on a jaunt with some friends, he  had only just stopped his intense grieving for his mother and father and Theodred had been glad he was coming out of his shell a little, but his father had been furious and had severely reprimanded his young cousin, bringing him almost to tears with his rage and fury. He knew his father was concerned for his nephews safety and loved him like a son, in remembrance to his dearly beloved sister. Theodred had comforted Eomer that time and had dried his tears which had spilt over after the dressing down his father had given him. He had explained why it was important to tell someone as to his whereabouts if leaving the safety of the city. Eomer had sobbed in his beloved cousin’s comforting embrace and promised never to do the same ever again. Theodred found it hard to believe that his young cousin had disobeyed his uncle in this.

He quickly informed the fathers of the other two friends who were also immediately worried and troubled over the safety of their sons. They hastily made plans to seek for the youths, though their hearts were heavy with the thought that the orcs just might have found them first and vented their glee on finding easy prey.

As they had rode down from the north of the Entwade and had not passed any signs of orcs and missing boys, they decided to ride further south to seek for further signs. Scouts were again sent back up the trail in case they had missed them in their hasty gallop to the battle.

After about an hours ride the Eored came upon the signs of a rough camp, there were hoof marks and signs of booted feet at least four different kinds, but there were also other tracks, footprints that could have been only made from orcs coming towards the camp from the north, but any signs of the boys there were none. Hearts were heavy as they observed the signs and tried to picture what had occurred near the waters edge. A shout from behind a low hillock made Theodred run over to the sound of his rider’s call, he paled at what he saw. Lying dead on the ground was the body of a horse, pierced through the chest with orc arrows, he knelt by the horses body and bowed his head low, his shoulders shuddering….it was Cramleof, Eomer’s horse.

In Meduseld the king paced the hall, his thoughts on his young nephew, he was much grieved that Eomer had disobeyed his orders and rather surprised. Eomer was much like his Father, Eomund, who had been a man of honour, a man whose word was his bond, who never failed in his duty to his king and country, who loved and was loved by his family, a man who had died in service to his King and was sorely missed by the people, his Eored and most of all by the son who had worshipped him. For this reason alone was Theoden sorely troubled by his nephews’ disregard and disrespect, it was just not characteristic of him.

A soft gasp behind made him turn round and he was suddenly confronted by a sobbing Eowyn. She had finished her lessons for the day and had soon picked up the gossip running throughout the hall. Her brother was missing, orcs were attacking by the Entwade, and she flew to her uncle, tears streaming down her face in her fears at the news.

He picked up his twelve year old niece, even though she was getting quite tall now. The king wrapped his strong arms around her as she wept in fear for her brother. After their parents deaths Eomer was her closest kin and she adored him, even when he teased her and would not let her follow him all the time when he was in practice with sword and spear. The king’s face softened as he tried in vain to soothe his niece. He loved her dearly, she reminded him so much of his beloved sister, and he had welcomed both of them into his house and cared as much for them as his own son.

“Worry not, my little lady,” he soothed, “ your brother will be soon back with us, safe and well.” Any wrath he had felt for Eomer’s truancy had gone temporarily in his desire to comfort his niece and put her mind at rest even though his thoughts were dark and troubled. The king sat with his niece for a long while trying not to imagine the worst that could have happened to her brother and having every faith in his sons   returning him safe back to Meduseld.  Eomer and the child he comforted in his arms were all he had left to remind him of his sweet Theodwyn, apart from fond memories of their younger days.

Watching, crouching and hidden within the shadows, Grima observed his King, a small smile on his face as he pondered the outcome of his plan. Yes, he knew the orcs would be massing today, he knew the younger of the House of Eorl would be abroad from Meduseld, vulnerable and without strong and tried protection. His Master had whispered to him many a time…”.be subtle…strike when you can…have eyes and ears everywhere and together we can plan for the future…YOUR future faithful Grima…you have only to name your prize….”

‘Yes’ Grima thought, ‘my prize’, he glowered watching a young Eowyn, beautiful even at that age, as she wept for the safe return of her brother.

            ******************************************************

Eomer scrambled to his feet as the orcs began to circle the youths. He grasped his short sword and cursed that he had not a broadsword with him, making a mental note that if he survived this encounter, he would never travel without it again. His friends had stayed with him, the orcs were too quick and stopped any chance of retreat. The horses whickered nervously as they smelt their foul stench and their novice riders had difficulty in controlling the nervous beasts. Eomer looked at his companions, they looked as terrified as he felt, slowly the orcs moved into their quarry,  ‘this would be an easy kill’ they thought.

Suddenly an orc bore down on Eomer, he was the nearest and as he was on foot deemed the most vulnerable. Eomer raised his sword to ward off the blows and then swung down with all his strength and the orc was slain. The others charged at the boys yelling and screaming and the others were knocked off their horses in the initial onslaught and started to fight for their lives, trying desperately to remember all their instructors and fathers had taught them about warfare and hand to hand combat. Even though they were grossly outnumbered the four Rohirric youths won their first battle at a young age. All the orcs perished at their hands but not without injuries. The three remaining horses ran off in panic from the scene of carnage. Eomer was uninjured but was trembling and shaking with shock in the aftermath of death and bloodshed he had caused. He turned his head, leant over and retched the contents of his stomach, his face a deathly white. He felt an arm around his shoulder, he glanced sideways to see Deowine looking at him with concern on his face.

“Are you well, Eomer?” he asked.

Eomer nodded, “Yes, my friend, worry not about me, I am uninjured, how do the others fare?”

He hastily scanned the area, bodies of orcs were everywhere and the stench of blood was sickening, Gordeph was lying unconscious and Eothum had a bad wound down his arm which bled profusely and it pained him to move it. Eomer sprang to Gordeph’s side and turned him over, an ugly mark on his head told him he had been knocked cold but other injuries than that it was hard to tell. Eothums arm was washed with the cold clear water from the Entwade and his arm was bound. He grimaced when being touched, sweat pouring from him as he clenched his teeth during the procedure. 

Eomer looked at his friends noticing how grey and ashen they appeared, not realizing he was also showing the same signs of distress, and the aftermath of battle was vivid in his eyes. His stomach was still in knots as his thoughts turned to how lucky they were to survive this first encounter with such deadly creatures.

Eomer glanced round warily as if half expecting a further onslaught but the enemy had all been slain.

His gaze fell on the body of Cramleof, his horse, and he sprang forward and knelt slowly beside the once magnificent creature. Eomer reached out a hand and tentatively touched Cramleofs’ beautiful coat and stroked the long shining mane, tears streaming down his face as he whispered farewell to his faithful steed.

A low moan made him turn around and look to his companions. They had kept a discreet distance whilst Eomer had said his farewells, each young Rohirrim knowing the anguish at losing a horse in such a way and only the groans of the now awakening Gordeph brought them all back to their present situation and dangerous predicament. Eomer and the others knelt by Gordeph’s side as he roused more from the unconscious state he had blissfully been in over the last hour.

 He struggled to sit up and assured his comrades that he had no other injury, only a knocking head. His brow was bathed and bound with a wet cloth whilst they debated their next move. Eomer felt the others eyes on him, waiting for his answer, waiting for him to help them and show the way home. He had never in his young life felt such a responsibility for the lives and safekeeping of others That they should in haste move from this place of battle was uppermost in their minds but Gordeph was not very mobile but he could now be supported at each side.

Eomer made the decision to start to walk back by the Entwade as close to water as they could and then turn towards Edoras in the hope that they would find their missing and panicked horses or ‘please Bema’ other help may be on the path to the city, merchants or farmers perhaps on business.

And so they made the slow departure from the scene of carnage, Eomer casting a last anguished look at his beloved Cramleof, they had not the time or wherewithal to make a decent burial and he was sorely troubled to leave him as carrion for any foul beast to discover. As they trudged along they kept up a merry banter to liven their spirits and hopefully make the journey home seem shorter.

         ******************************************************

Theodred and his Eored soon made quick work of inspecting the area for clues of the youngsters’ whereabouts and movements. A huge pyre was made of the orc bodies and a deep gave dug to receive the body of Cramleof to protect the once noble creature from foraging wild beasts. He met with his men to discuss their next plan.

“It would seem,” he stated, “That more than orc blood has been spilt here, but no other slain are in the immediate vicinity or surrounding area. Orcs could, of course, have bourn off with our younglings, but I do not think that the case. Our reports show no orc trails out of this glade and the only footprints out showed at least three different tracks.”

“What think you then, my Prince,” asked Deomund anxiously, fearing for the safety and welfare of his son. “Are we to hope and pray that our young ones are safe and making their way back to Edoras on foot, all safe and well. I deem?”

Theodred smiled, “I wouldst hope that they are all in the party, and not too badly injured, they carry at least one stricken, but as to his possible wounds we know not until they are apprehended and conveyed safely home. I speak also as one who is worried as to their fate, Eomer is as brother to me and I love him dearly.”

They quickly mounted and followed the tracks’ of the boys’ as they tried to make their vain way home.

The boys had walked for at least two hours following the path of the Entwade and were about to turn off the course of the river and make their way across the fields of Rohan to take the most direct route to the city. They would now trust to luck as cover was hard to find on the open plains of grass and they were very vulnerable on foot and with injured amongst them. Gordeph was struggling and his companions were coping to carry his semi-conscious body between them, he tried to walk independently as he feared he was impeding their progress, but the knock on the head was still causing problems for his health as he kept drifting off into a rambling stupor and the hearts of his comrades were low as to his condition. They had not gone too far from the river when their quick ears picked up the low thunder of hooves in the distance following them from down the trail they had traversed.

With hearts beating from fear they knew that to remain was the only option, they could not flee as Gordephs’ condition was too unstable and they would not leave a wounded companion behind. So they waited and hoped as the drumming noise got ever closer, looking at each other fearfully, and praying that it was one of the Eoreds’ returning home to the city. In the distance a cloud of dust was visible and the tips of spears caused their hearts to soar. Tips of spears with banners, white horse upon green, held in the strong and capable hands of the first Eored let by the crown prince, Theodred. The riders noticed the youths as they approached them and swiftly the boys were surrounded and found themselves ringed in by a circle of Rohirrim looking down upon them rather grimly.

Two riders rode forward and quickly dismounted, they were Eothred and Deomund who immediately went to their sons to check on the health and condition of their offspring, the prince signalling another to go to the aid of Gordeph. Both fathers much relieved to see their sons whole and almost well, Eothums arm being inspected by his concerned Papa, and then bound in a light sling as his father feared the arm was broken. Gordeph was lifted gently by an older veteran and once close fiend of his late father and taken on horseback and returned on a fast ride back to the city, to be tended by the more experienced healers and to relay to the King and others of the safety and imminent return of the missing boys.

Eomers’ heart was beating fast with relief and he longed to throw himself in joy at his cousin and feel Theodreds’ strong comforting arms around him, just as he used to do years before when Eomer woke in the night as he often did after the deaths of his parents. Theodred was nearly always there to comfort his cousin and dry his tears and reassure him that he was safe from harm within Meduseld. But he sensed that this was different and that Theodred was not coming to him to offer comfort, he wore a harsh and troubled look on his face as he rode up to his young cousin and glared down from the saddle into Eomers’ eyes.

“Well, cousin, what have you to say.” He barked.

“About what?” Eomer blinkingly replied, his mouth dry with fear not knowing what his cousin was about.

Theodred leapt down from his horse in anger at that reply and drew level with Eomer, Eomer backed away slightly in intimidation. “About What? ABOUT WHAT?” he shouted, not caring that he was berating Eomer in front of the whole Eored. “About your leaving the city without any knowing of your whereabouts. About almost getting yourself slain and risking the lives of others and putting the lives of others riders at risk while they searched for sign of you. Think you also of your sister, who is in much distress as to your safety.” Theodred paced about venting his anger and reining himself as to actually strike his cousin in his relief as to finding him safe and well.

Eomer was mortified as to the severe scolding, squirming in embarrassment, red faced in front of the Riders, known to many as was also his Father Eomund. His pride at his first kill had long gone and all that remained was to try to explain to his cousin as to his seeming unknown absence from Meduseld.

Theodred had stopped his tirade and was glowering at his young cousin, his relief at finding him safe and well outweighing the anger of not knowing as to the whereabouts of Eomer that day.

“Please hear me cousin,” he begged, “I am sorry for causing any to wonder or worry as to my plans for the day, but I didst relate them to Grima before I left on the trip with my friends, he knew as to my jaunt to the Entwade and he was to tell Theoden King as to my location. I would never not relate as to my whereabouts after what happened last time, although why Grima didst not tell the King I know not, please believe me cousin. I speak truth in this.” Eomer looked desperately into his cousins eyes, in which his own were filling with tears and

 a few were starting to spill over.

Theodred knew his cousin to be speaking the truth, Eomer had never told a lie. The men of the Mark do not lie and his cousin was a true Eorlinga. He threw his arms around his young cousin and embraced him heartily as his tears fell also with relief at finding Eomer unharmed

 “I believe you Eomer,” he whispered, “Although my Father will probably scold you more, I know he will believe you also, but as to why Grima said not a word we shall have to find out about upon returning to Meduseld.

Soon the riders had the youngsters upon their horses with them are were soon riding through the gates of Edoras, Theodred and Eomer walking together up to Meduseld to see the king and Eomer quaked not a little bit at the thought.

Before he was granted audience with his uncle Eomer was assaulted by a sobbing Eowyn who threw her arms around her brother and clung to him weeping tears of relief. Eomer was a little surprised as to the vehement outburst of emotion for him but he reciprocated and hugged her back fiercely.

His meeting with his uncle was soon upon him and he walked up through the great hall to the throne where sat Theoden King of the Riddermark

“Hail Theoden King,” Eomer spoke nervously and bowed in honour to his uncle.

Theoden smiled grimly at his young nephew, much relieved by his safe return back home and he had been apprised as to his excuses by Theodred although the king was not going to let Eomer know that.

“Explain,” he asked.

“Lord, hear me,” answered Eomer flustered and nervous, feeling the eyes of the King and all his councillors upon him. “I did relate my plans to someone ere I left the city, I would never leave without your knowance my king,” he tried to explain.

“To whom did you relate this news?”

“To Grima, Majesty.”

“Grima,” barked the king again, “Explain.”

Grima sidled to the front of the throne, bowing to Theoden and glancing sideways at Eomer. “My lord,” he started, “Yes I did see young Lord Eomer this morn, he garbled some un- intelligible nonsense to me and ran off but I heard naught of his plans for leaving Edoras this day.”

“That is a lie,” shouted Eomer angrily.

“How dare you talk thus to a councillor, youngling,” hissed Grima, scowling at Eomer with hatred, “You forget your place and to whom you speak.”

“Peace, Grima, peace nephew,” growled the king.

Both antagonists stopped their tirade and Eomer glowered back at the counciller, he started as he felt a strong hand on his shoulder and on glancing back saw it was Theodred, standing behind him, the pressure telling him to calm and clear his mind.

“It would seem,” Grima went on, glowering at the young lord, “That if the son of Eomund wouldst have spoken yet clearly this morn, all would have been apprised as to his day.”

“But,I …”went on Eomer.

“This is over now,” continued Theoden, “Eomer, sister-son you will make sure this happens not again.”

“But, my king…”began Eomer. The hand on his shoulder gripped harder, and he heard a ‘sshh’ from his cousin. Eomer lowered his head in defeat, and fidgeted and shuffled with anxiety.

“I think a hot bath, meal and a change of clothes wouldst suffice for now, nephew,” smiled the king down to Eomer. “We will discuss your punishment later, now to your chambers.”

Eomer bowed, “Yes my King, “ he replied sulkily turning to leave the room but not without a last sneaking frown at Grima.

“Ah, Majesty,” sneered Grima to the King, “The folly and rashness of youth, I wouldst the young noble learns from this for his own safety in the future.”

“What mean you by that?” inquired Theodred, “Would you see harm come to my young cousin.”

“The prince misunderstands my words,” Grima replied nervously, “I wish no harm to any here, I just feel he is…shall we say…rather hasty and not just a little volatile, much like his late Father in that respect, thinking to strike first no matter what.”

“He is a true Eorlinga, Grima,” growled Theodred, “That is something you should not forget.”

“Peace, peace,” shouted the King, “I will hear no more today.” He rose and stormed out of the great hall.

After doing all that was required of him by his uncle, Eomer lay scowling on his bed when a soft knock at his door disturbed his thoughts, he rose and upon opening it was surprised to see the King himself, “May I enter, sister-son.” He inquired .

“Of course, my lord, please,” replied Eomer backing into his room allowing the King to settle on a chair by the fire. A long uncomfortable silence hung in the air, Eomer squirmed nervously waiting for what he knew not might happen to him.

At last Theoden spoke, “Eomer, you are young yet but in not a few years from now you will be leading an Eored, you will be a Marshal and fight for your people, your land and your King.”

“Yes uncle, just like Papa did.”

The king smiled softly, “Yes, just like your Papa,” he went on, “And you will have to deal with your men fairly and see to their well being. Your men will be like kin to you, and as a Marshal is to be almost like Father to them. Learn your lesson now, nephew. I know that you lie not but your tidings to relate your whereabouts could have been given better, and with more decorum could they not? As a Marshal you wilt have to relay many messages and battle strategies to the correct quarters and in a tone to be understood by the recipients, do you understand what I am saying?

“I think so, Uncle,” Eomer answered, “I must take care to relay any news without mistakes, so the correct party is aware. But…”

“But what?”

“But, my king, I did relay my news to Grima, I did tell him, I…

“Yes, I hear you,” replied the king, “But I think that Grima would not lie, he is a councillor and friend, so think on my words.” With that the king leaned over and embraced Eomer. “Thank Bema you were not harmed.” He whispered and then rose to leave the room. Before he left he looked back at his nephew, “From what Theodred tells me, you fought well, not many could say that after their first taste of battle and blood-letting….I am proud of you, the blood of Eorl runs strong in your veins it would seem.”

The king bade his sullen nephew a good night and left his bedchamber, but before Eomer closed his door a sudden movement caused him to look out again into the dim corridor, a figure appeared out of a shadowy corner and walked slowly past, pausing only to make an almost obsequious bow towards him before following the king at a distance.

The door closed and Eomer readied himself for bed, though sleep was long in coming as he lay abed, his thoughts were dark and troubled, his mind in turmoil and when sleep finally overtook him his dreams were dark and the sneering face of Grima haunted them.

The End.