Chapter Six- Similar Individuals

The gray stallion stood in his stall twitching his tail in anticipation.  He had been fed early that morning, groomed, bridled, and then saddled.  The stallion knew he would be on the move soon, and he was impatiently stomping his hoofs lightly on the ground.

“Easy Master Stallion! You’ve been pent up too long I take it?” Noradol had opened the stall gate and the horse backed out quickly, not waiting for its trainer to take the reigns.  Noradol hurried up beside the horse and patted it gently.  “You’re on your way back to the King!”

The horse was led outside and brought up along side the house.  Noradol hobbled up the steps, opened the screen door, and called to his wife.  “Corla!  Send Olihre out m’dear!  I have an errand for him!” 

 Noradol stepped back as his wife walked swiftly to the door.  “Oli’s gone to the stone masons’ for some instruction on glazin’.  What is it you need him for?”

“Well, I was going to have him return the stallion, but I guess I’ll do it me’self.”

Ysenia had been in the kitchen when Corla had been called.  She stepped out onto the porch.  “How far does the horse need to go?”

“Only to the Big House,” Noradol said, referring to the Kings home.  “It’s no more than split hour’s ride from here.”

“Why don’t you send Xanthe, I think she could use the distraction.”  Inwardly, Ysenia worried about sending her daughter off in a land she was not familiar with, but she knew that if she didn’t give her room, she would never grow.

“Can she handle a horse?  This one’s a bit testy…she may be too fragile for the likes of ‘im.”

Ysenia smiled proudly, “Xanthe is strong, despite her many trials, or maybe because of them.  Either way, she can handle it, I promise.”

“Go get her then,” Noradol said with exaggerated resignation. 

Xanthe was shining her aunt’s silver when her mother flew up the stairs, out of breath, a broad smile on her face.  “Xan, how long has it been since you rode an actual horse?”

Xanthe looked confused, but humored her beautiful mother.  “Well…not since Olihre brought his friends’ horse over for tending last winter.  Why?”

Ysenia raised her eyebrows in a look of excitement and replied, “There’s a gray stallion down there that needs to be returned to the King’s stables before nightfall.  Olihre is nowhere to be found, and Nori suggested you go instead.”

“Nori suggested me?  Hmmm…curious.  In the week that I’ve been here, Nori hasn’t once asked me into the stable.  How much convincing did you have to do?”  Xanthe’s tone was cynical, but she was already up, hurriedly putting on her boots and cloak.

Ysenia took a clip out of her own hair, allowing it to fall into disarray around her shoulders.  While Xanthe laced her boots, Ysenia pulled her daughters golden locks into a secure chignon, allowing a few wisps to be free, falling lightly around her face. 

Xanthe stood up and hugged her mother.  “Thanks Mum, I needed a reason to get out for a while!”

“I know you did.  You’ve seemed a bit down.  I hope this trip hasn’t been too much for you…” 

“I’m fine Mum, really.  I’ll settle.  We all will.”

Xanthe headed down the stairs with her mother close on her heels.  Ysenia prattled on after her. “Nori says that the road goes straight to the stables.  It shouldn’t take long, but you will be leading another horse for your return trip.  Go as fast as you can, I don’t want you out after dark.”

Xanthe was on the porch now.  She turned around and grasped her mothers’ hand comfortingly.  “Do you want to come with me Mum?”

Ysenia knew that Xanthe would rather go alone, and she winced as she thought of how sore she was from all the mule riding they had done in the last month.  “No thanks dear, you’ll do fine on your own.  Just hurry back, eh love?”

“I will.”  Xanthe joined her uncle and he helped her into the saddle atop the massive stallion.  “Tell Gaviwyr, the King’s Captain, that we are ready to receive more horses whenever he has some to send.”

“Sure Nori, I’ll tell him.”  She smiled and tapped the horses’ flanks with her heel.  As she rode off she called over her shoulder, “I’ll be back for dinner.”

*          *          *

Xanthe rode at a steady pace; she was in no hurry to arrive anywhere.  The stallion alternated its graceful legs with ease, the brown mare following closely behind.  Xanthe marveled at everything around her.  The air in Rohan smelled like wet earth, and when the breeze blew, it smelled like honeysuckle.  She smiled at those she passed on the road, and nodded politely at people as she passed houses and shops.  Her heart would jump every now and then whenever she passed people her own age.  She tried to seem confident, but inside she wondered what they thought of her, or if they even noticed her. 

The cobbled road wound ever uphill, and soon enough Xanthe saw the great dwelling of Meduseld in the distance.  She recounted her directions, remembering that she was to go to the stables and then send a servant to fetch the Kings’ Captain.  When she arrived outside of the stable doors, she dismounted and un-tethered the mare from the stallion’s saddle.  She was greeted by a dark-haired youth who nervously took the horses reigns and led it into the stables.  Xanthe was not sure what she was to do, so she stood awkwardly outside of the doors.  A minute later, the youth poked his head back out the doors and without making eye contact, mumbled, “I’ll get the Captain-- come in or wait here.”   

“I’ll wait here, thank you.”  Xanthe wasn’t sure why the boy seemed so nervous, but it was making her a bit uneasy.  The boy ran off towards the house while Xanthe made her way into the stable.  She sat lightly on a large pile of hay, situating her green dress around her modestly.  The hay smelled pungent, and there was already a pronounced indentation in it, making it quite comfortable.  “Well I guess I have stumbled across his perch,” she said aloud, thinking that the indentation must be where the boy rested when he had nothing else to do. 

*          *          *

Gaviwyr was in the infirmary, arguing with the healer about what supplies they needed to take with them on their journey to Minas Tirith.  “We certainly don’t need to bring an entire bushel of grosli, the herb is only used for burns after all.”

The healer was looking very perturbed when he glanced out the door and saw Eomer approaching down the hallway.  “Why don’t we ask the King then,” he sneered as he turned to meet Eomer.  “My Liege,” he said with a slight bow, “Your Captain seems to think that wounds heal themselves, and he refuses to pack what is needed.”

Eomer smiled openly at Gaviwyr.  He heard an indignant sniff from behind and turned to face the healer.  “Puchen, I think Gav is just trying to lighten our load.  The trip will be long and tiresome.”

“The horses will be doing the carrying, am I right?  Since when could horses not bear the weight of herbs?”

Eomer was a bit annoyed now.  “We are taking no pack horses, only the stallion, and we will not have him on the way back.  Would you have us leave your precious herbs with the Elves?” 

Puchen’s face went red.  Eomer knew that he did not like elves.  “Your Highness, please forgive my bluntness,” Puchen was making a valiant effort to hide his obvious anger.  “I think you would do better to find yourself a healer who is comfortable with this new lifestyle that you have brought to Edoras.  I will stay only until you find a replacement.”

Eomer was shocked, though he did admire the healers’ courage.  “I will be sorry to see you go,” he fibbed.  “Be assured you will be taken care of for as long as you reside in Rohan.”

Puchen bowed, very low this time.  “Thank you Lord.”  He left quickly, leaving Gaviwyr and Eomer staring at each other, trying to stifle wondering looks, and incredulous chuckles.

Gaviwyr spoke first.  “Well, it looks like we need to find a new healer.  One who likes Elves and other sorts of riff-raff that you have brought upon us!”

Eomer burst out laughing, stopping only when he saw his stable hand poking his head around the corner.  “Larn, what is it lad?”

The boy entered and facing Gaviwyr whispered, “The stallion has been brought back sir.”

Gaviwyr looked at Eomer devilishly and then turned back to the boy.  He whispered, “That is wonderful, but why are we whispering?”          

The boy blushed and in a slightly louder voice he croaked, “It’s a girl!”

“What in Eru’s name are you talking about Larn?  What is a girl?  The horse?”

Larn looked flustered.  “No!  The rider.  Noradol has sent a girl with the horse.”

Eomer joined, “Funny, I don’t remember it being illegal for a girl to ride a horse; have I missed something?”

Larn looked truly frustrated now.  “No, but this one is, well…young, and I’ve never seen her.”

“Is she younger than you?” Eomer queried, trying to imagine a small girl atop the large stallion.

Ignoring the King, the boy turned to Gaviwyr and said, “Just come out-- please.  She is waiting for you.”  With than he turned and ran back to the stable.

Eomer looked sidelong at his friend.  Gaviwyr just smiled his cocky smile and said, “Would you like to come with me and see what is so fascinating about a girl riding a horse?”

Eomer shook his head.  “Little girls on horses don’t really interest me.”

Gaviwyr nodded but said poignantly, “It’s probably Noradol’s niece; you remember I told you he was having family stay with him?”

“Yes?” Eomer said expectantly.

“Well, I just think that it might be nice for you to introduce yourself-- they are after all new citizens here.”

“Of course,” Eomer said. 

*          *          *

Xanthe jumped when the boy reentered the stable.  When she didn’t see anyone with the boy, she turned to ask him what she was to do, but the boy had already climbed the ladder into the loft and was gone.  Xanthe rolled her eyes before she sat back in the hay and waited.  Soon enough she heard voices outside the stable.  She stood up and was brushing hay off of her skirt when two men entered.  “Hello,” she said nervously, still trying to smooth out her skirt.  “I…I brought you your horse.”  She wasn’t sure which man was the King and which was the Captain, so she looked at them both.  What she saw made her frown.

Both men were standing still, eyes wide and lips parted in half-expression.  The man on the right looked like he had just been hit with a tree-branch while the one on the left was grinning strangely.  Xanthe was uncomfortable and she showed it.  Glancing nervously from one to another she shifted her weight and started to take small steps backwards.

Gaviwyr realized that they were being rude and he stepped forward, trying to regain his wits.  “I am sorry m’lady.  It’s just that the boy said you were a little girl…I suppose that is what we were expecting.”  Gaviwyr glanced at Eomer and was shocked to see that his friend had not recovered so quickly.  “Eomer, er…Your Highness, are you quite alright?”

Eomer couldn’t speak.  He couldn’t even blink.  Standing in front of him was the girl from the river.  A wave of emotions overtook him- he felt guilty, curious, excited and scared all at once.  He cleared his throat and looked down at the dirt floor.  “Yes, sorry.  We were uh…expecting something else.”  He still did not look up into the girls’ eyes, but stared rather at the hem of her brilliant green dress.

Xanthe was not quite sure how she felt about these answers.  “A little girl?” she said softly, but with a kindly smile.  She addressed the King, though he seemed to be fascinated with something on the floor. 

Gaviwyr took a deep breath and said, “No matter.  You must be Noradol’s niece?”

Xanthe took a step forward holding out her hand, as was custom.  “Yes, I am…that is, my name is Xanthe.”  Gaviwyr took her hand and kissed it formally, turning to the King.

Eomer knew he could not continue avoiding the girls’ eyes, so he looked up, took her hand, kissed it quickly, and then said what he meant least in the world, “I’ve got much to do.  Gav, you’ll see to the horse, won’t you?”           

Gaviwyr nodded cautiously, “Of course.”

Eomer’s body and mind kept right on going while his heart froze in fear and confusion.  “It was a pleasure meeting you.”  He said this last bit, glancing up into her eyes with an intensity that all in the room noticed.

Xanthe felt her face growing warm and she glanced up into the loft, wishing she could be up there in the dark, even if she had to share it with a curt little boy.  “Likewise Your Majesty,” she nearly whispered.

Gaviwyr peered at his friend with his face screwed up into a look of utter disbelief.  What has gotten into him?  He had never seen Eomer act like this, and the King was a man of many strange dispositions.

Eomer left and Gaviwyr turned to Xanthe apologetically.  “He is a little bit overwhelmed right now.  We are planning for a trip and we just lost our healer, who was to go with us.”

Xanthe’s eyes lit up.  “I’m a healer!” She said excitedly, surprised at her own courage.  “That is, I spent a lot of time inside when I was younger, and I have learned everything there is to know.”

“Whom did you learn from?”

Xanthe wanted to tell him it was from her physician, but she hesitated, not wanting to come off as weak or sick.  “A friend of my family.  He would come and sit with me and teach me all he knew.  I suppose I was a bored little girl.”

Gaviwyr smiled.  This girl was refreshing.  She seemed innocent but full of life.  “Well, I am not the one who makes such decisions, the King is.  Why don’t I speak with him in the morning and than I will send word to you at your Uncle’s.  Is that acceptable?”

Xanthe was ecstatic.  “Yes!” she said eagerly.  “Thank you!”

“Surely,” Gaviwyr replied, trying not to let her enthusiasm affect him.  “Now, it is starting to grow dim outside.  Will you need an escort back to your Uncle’s?”

Xanthe glanced worriedly out the door.  Her mother would be expecting her any minute and it was still a twenty-minute gallop home.  “No, I’ll be fine, but I should be off.  Thank you again!”

Gaviwyr looked on as the girl gathered her skirt and rushed out.  She mounted the horse gracefully, riding straddle rather than side-saddle.  Looking back one more time, her dark green eyes sparkling, she rode off.