CHAPTER 36

Three days later, the group was approaching the Fords of Isen. As the River drew into view, they slowed. Targon and the Gondorians drew back, and Anwynd, who now bore the standard of Rohan moved to the front. Éothain gestured, and Freddy and Berilac came up to ride beside him. The young captain had explained this the night before: they would be crossing the Fords to enter Rohan.

Freddy was pale, but he was managing to keep his trepidation under control. Berilac looked at him, concerned. “Are you all right, Freddy?” he asked.

“I rather have to be, don’t I?” was the wry reply. “I didn’t have anything to eat this morning but dry bread and ginger tea. I don’t believe I will disgrace myself.” But his knuckles were white on his pony’s reins.

Beri drew a deep breath in sympathy, but all he said was “At least you know how to keep afloat now.” He spoke lightly and smiled at Freddy.

Freddy raised an eyebrow. “You are quite right, I do! But pardon me if I try *not* to fall in and put your lessons to the test.”

It wasn’t much of a joke, but it reassured his companion.

There on the near side of the Ford were two guards. Éothain called the company to a halt, and then he alone rode forward to speak to the guards.

It was too far for the hobbits to hear much of what was said, but it would have made little difference, as the few words they did hear were Rohirric. After a few moments, Éothain gestured once more, and they all rode forward towards the Ford.

Freddy felt a bit light-headed, and it was with gratitude that he noticed Legolas and Gimli ride up to his other side. He concentrated on his pony, as it entered the water.

The Fords here really were very shallow; the water scarcely came above his pony’s hocks, and it should have been reassuring. After all, he’d played in puddles as deep as this as a child. But the back of his mind kept reminding him this was not a puddle, but part of a swift-running river. He swallowed and ignored it, fixing his gaze on the other side, where more Rohirric guards and a small campsite awaited. Curiously he noticed to his right, in the middle of the River a tiny island, an eyot, no more, on which was a mound, and above which flew the standard of Rohan, whipping in the wind.

And then he was once more on solid ground, and he felt his world coming back to him.

“Good show, Freddy,” Beri muttered.

“You did well, my friend,” said Legolas.

Freddy shot them grateful looks, and then felt a brief moment of pride. He’d done it. He had ridden across a ford, on his own. And while it had been difficult, it had not been as bad as he had feared.

The four guards on that side of the Fords came forward, and once more Éothain spoke with them in their own tongue. He led one of them forward. “This is Yric, son of Wulfgar, who commands this outpost. Yric, this is Fredegar Odovocar’s son, and Berilac Merimac’s son, close kin to the Ringbearer and to our Holdwine Meriadoc and to Sir Peregrin of the Tower Guard.”

Yric bowed. “It is an honor to meet you,” he said, in accented Westron. His eyes had grown wide at the sight of the hobbits, and at the introductions.

Freddy and Beri bowed from their ponies’ backs. “At your service and your family’s,” they replied.

Yric looked up at Éothain. “Will you be staying to make camp with us tonight, my lord?”

Éothain nodded, and Yric turned to give brisk orders to the others. At a signal from Éothain, the company dismounted, and preparations to set up camp began.

Targon, who had been with Éothain when they had stopped here on the journey north, came forward. “It is a bit early to be stopping for the day,” he said.

“It is. But this is the best place to camp tonight.”

The Gondorian nodded. They were on the soil of Rohan now, and that meant É othain was now in charge.

With practiced ease, the travellers soon had their own campsite set up next to that of the guards. Rolly and Denny were in charge of the meals that day, and somewhat diffidently asked Éothain if he thought the other Rohirrim who were there would like to join them for the evening meal.

Since the smells emanating from the hobbits’ cookfire were enticing, Yric and his Men accepted the invitation eagerly.

Of the six guards stationed there--including the two who had been on the other side of the Fords when they crossed, only Yric spoke Westron. But he conveyed their thanks as they sat among the group, enjoying the thick stew, grilled bread, and dumplings made of dried fruit.

They spoke companionably, Éothain translating for the hobbits and the Rohirrim, and Rolly and Denny were smugly pleased at the compliments they received on their cooking.

When the meal was finished, and Bergil had cleaned everything up, Éothain stood, and looked towards the Entwash, and the tiny islet in the river. He bit his lip, and turned to his companions. “I am going to pay my respects to the Prince. Any there are who would, may accompany me.”

At once the Anwynd and Danulf stood, nodding. The Rohirrim went over to the pickets to get their horses. Legolas and Gimli stood up as well, as did the Gondorians.

Éothain had a brief word with Yric, giving orders that his Men keep an eye on the prisoners.

The hobbits looked curiously at their companions. “The Prince?” asked Berilac. Freddy was eyeing the river apprehensively.

Targon nodded. “Yes, Théodred, son of King Théoden was slain here in battle, and here he lies.” He nodded towards the eyot.

Freddy looked troubled. He felt that as leader of the delegation, it would be only right to offer his respect; yet he was not sure he could face the river again. Targon noticed his discomfort.

“Master Fredegar, rather than getting the ponies again, I am sure that any of you hobbits who wish to do so may ride with us Men.”

Freddy nodded gratefully. In the end, Freddy, Beri, Mosco and Jolly decided to go, and each of them were lifted into the saddles before the Men. Freddy sat before Targon, and felt himself quite secure. Following the Rohirrim, the others came behind, and they passed into the Fords.

The eyot was almost like a stony little hillock in the middle of the water, and after the horses stepped onto the island, they all dismounted.

The Gondorians and the hobbits stood respectfully, as the Rohirrim moved closer to the mound, and as one, gave a warrior’s salute of a fist to the heart.

In a low voice Éothain began to speak. “It was a trap of course. We all should have realized it was a trap when Wormtongue did not speak against the expedition. It was not so much a battle, as it was an assassination. Saruman had managed to keep secret the extent of his forces, and allowed Théodred’s scouts to see only so much as he wished them to see. Even when our Prince realized they were outmanned and outflanked, he kept his forces together, and they were retreating in good order, though much delayed by the enemy.

Finally, they gained the Fords, and Théodred and his men tried to hold the Fords for the retreat of Grimbold and his men. But disaster struck, as another force came from the east.

It soon became clear that the chief aim of the enemy was to kill the King’s son. Grimbold could see the axe-men of the Dunlendings driving Théodred’s from the shores of the eyot towards the low knoll in its centre, and he heard Théodred’s great voice crying “To me Eorlingas!” At once Grimbold, taking a few men that stood near him, ran back to the eyot. So fierce was his onset from the rear of the attackers that Grimbold, a man of great strength and stature, clove his way through, till with two others he reached Théodred standing at bay on the knoll. Too late. As he came to his side Théodred fell, hewn down by a great Orc-man. Grimbold slew him and stood over the body of Théodred, thinking him dead; and there he himself would have been slain but for the coming of Elfhelm.

It was the turn of the Isengarders to be surprised. Elfhelm had been riding in haste, leading four companies, headed for Helm's Deep.  But the reports of his outriders that two wolf-riders had been seen caused him to turn aside to the Fords. It was well he had done so. Elfhelm’s arrival put them to rout, and alongside Grimbold, he fought two Dunlending warriors to save Théodred’s body. One Elfhelm at once slew, and the other fell before Grimbold.

They stooped then to lift the body, and found that Théodred still breathed; but he lived only long enough to speak his last words;  "Let me lie here--to keep the Fords till Éomer comes!" Night fell. A harsh horn sounded, and then all was silent. As Théodred was at last slain, Saruman’s commander (no doubt under orders) seemed satisfied for the time being.*  The wizard's forces withdrew."

Éothain fell briefly silent, and the hobbits stood looking at the mound, with the banner flying out proudly, and thought of the sacrifice of the proud and brave Man who was buried there. Freddy thought with a shudder of all that Sharkey--Saruman, that was--had done in the world before he had come to inflict himself on the Shire. Tears stung his eyes, and it came to him once more how protected the Shire had been, not only by Rangers at its borders, but by these Men far in the South, who had been fighting the evil for so many generations.

He’d known all along what the Ring had meant, from the first time Merry had told him of Gandalf’s news. He’d known that to keep the Shire safe, it had been necessary for Frodo to leave. He’d never expected to see his friends again, once they had vanished into the Old Forest, and doubly so once the Black Riders had shown up at Crickhollow. But now, it truly began to dawn on him: Frodo, and Sam, had saved the *world*. Not just the Shire--the *world*! Because of Frodo, this land they now were going to visit was also free and safe, and the sacrifices of people like this brave Prince could have meaning.

Éothain sighed, and then drew himself up with a deep breath. “Deep was Éomer’s anger when he heard of his cousin’s death, and he pled with his uncle to ride out with our éored and avenge Théodred’s death. But Wormtongue’s poisonous treachery held sway, and there was no pursuit. I later heard the account of Théodred’s last stand from Grimbold himself.”

They stood for a few moments in silence, and then they mounted up, and returned to the campsite.

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* Quotations in italics are from Unfinished Tales Part Three, “The Third Age”, Chapter V, “The Battles of the Fords of Isen”