The sun was setting behind the Misty Mountains as Eorl arrived with his personal guard.  The mustering field was dotted with tents, one for each eored captain and a larger enclosure for the Marshall of the northeast lands.

Eorl gestured to the guard leader who busied the troops in setting up Eorl’s tent.  Aragost walked with him to the tent of the Marshall.

“Wulfgar served as Marshall to my father, Leod.  He commands more than a score of eoreds.”

“What will he think?”  Aragost replied

“First he must hear the facts.  And realize that such a mustering and journey has never taken place in all the time of my people here.  He is brusque but will speak his mind truly.  That is why I value him.”

Soon they approached a large circular tent.  Decorated in green and gold it had white stallions emblazoned on each side.  A guard with a spear stood next to the entrance.

“The guard is his son.  There is no threat here.  He insures his father is not disturbed for trivial matters.”

“He looks formidable enough for any task you might assign”, Aragost remarked

“He may have his chance.” Eorl replied, approaching the guard

The guard saluted, recognizing Eorl.

“We have been expecting you.  Come inside.”  The guard opened the tent and bade them in.

It was well appointed.  Banners hung depicting forests, hunting for deer, men on horseback.  A long table anchored the center of the room.  On it were spread maps and three mugs of ale.  Off to the side the Marshall’s own area, with bed, chair and personal items.

“My lord!” Wulfgar the Marshall stepped out from the table, clasped his fist to his chest.

Wulfgar was a stocky man, powerful built.  His mane of dark gold hair was beginning to grey. 

Eorl stepped forward and gave the man a large bear hug.  Wulfgar had been like an uncle to him growing up.  Upon his father Leod’s death, the young Eorl, barely 16 summers, was instantly supported by his father’s favorite Marshall to lead the realm.

“Wulfgar it is good to see you.”

“You bring a guest?” Wulfgar queried, looking past Eorl at Aragost, paused at the entryway into the tent.

“His name is Aragost.  He has come over the Misty Mountains from Eriador.”

Wulfgar walked up to Aragost taking in his lean visage, high forehead and dark hair flecked with grey.

“You had less grey whence I saw you last at Leod’s court ten years past.  Man of the Dunedain.  What brings you to our land this day?”

“To visit, share tidings as before.  Though tidings come not from Eriador.” Aragost glanced at Eorl.

“A rider has come from Gondor, two hundred leagues south.”  Eorl replied

Wulfgar raised his eyebrows. 

“He did not come to share tidings.”  Wulfgar said flatly, then paused, thinking.

Wulfgar resumed.

“No, he came on most urgent business, such a journey.  Gondor needs our aid.”

Eorl smiled.  The veteran horseman was as shrewd as he was skilled with a lance.

“It is true”, Eorl replied, “The Balchoth, at least twenty thousand strong will cross the Anduin at the Undeeps.  Gondor’s North Army brings ten thousand men.”

“They may not prevail.”  Wulfgar said grimly, shaking his head. 

“Or it may be such a win as to bleed out both sides, reducing the army to a shadow of itself.” Eorl replied

“Leaving Gondor victorious but vulnerable for many years while rebuilding its forces.” Wulfgar replied, folding his arms across his chest, head slightly bent as if anticipating what would come next.  A moment’s thought and then his face was settled, a trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Come, my lord, and guest, Aragost.  Let us continue in more comfort.”  Wulfgar gestured to an area in the tent with comfortable benches.  They each picked up a tankard of ale on the map table.  Wulfgar retrieved a scroll and spread it out on a low table in front of them as they sat down.  Eorl spoke first.

“We could choose to do nothing.  A matter beyond our concern.  An unnecessary risk.”

Wulfgar took a sip of ale, then pointed to the map on the low table in front of them.

“One hundred fifty leagues south.  They could well be overwhelmed and destroyed.  At best, they win but are sorely depleted, fatally vulnerable for years. If the Balchoth turn their eyes north it would be we alone who face their thousands”

“Or we could muster the eohere.  Seven thousand riders.  Even the odds.  The Easterners are on foot, rudely armed.” Eorl countered

“The Balchoth would be destroyed.  Wulfgar replied, “Trampled under hoof, hewed with swords and stuck with spears.  Gondor would be preserved and our realm safe.” 

Aragost remained silent.  It was not for him to decide. 

“It seems that the choice to remove doubt about the future lies in our hands,” Wulfgar continued.  “We must act”

Eorl smiled.  The old Marshall had come to the same conclusion as he had in conversation with Aragost the day before.  It was best this way.  As lord, he could have simply ordered the mustering and committed to the long journey south.  But having his Marshall come to the same conclusion not only confirmed his own thoughts but created an active supporter.

“Act we shall” Eorl replied, “Come, let us look at the map.  There is much to plan if we are to move such a host.”

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The next day Eorl stood in the mustering field on a bright fresh spring morning.  In front of him were assembled twenty-three eored Captains and their Marshall, Wulfgar. 

“Marshall Wulfgar.  Captains of the realm.  I come to you with news from the South.”

There was a murmuring among the Captains.  Wulfgar silenced them with a glower.

“A messenger has arrived from Gondor.  He has ridden more than two hundred leagues, survived attacks, arrived starved and weary.  Over twenty thousand Balchoth mass on their borders against Gondor’s army of barely ten thousand.  Gondor may not prevail, may be defeated and overrun.  They seek our aid.”

The murmuring resumed, swelling into conversation among the Captains.  Eorl motioned to Wulfgar that they should feel free to debate.

After a while their voices subsided.  Eorl continued.

“You might ask, what if we do not heed their call.  It is far away.  The Easterners invade Gondor, not the land of the Eotheod.  Why should we risk our full strength in a battle not our own.”

The murmuring renewed.  A few nodded their heads at his last words.

“Because, my Captains, if Gondor falls, we are left alone against the Balchoth and their dark allies.  Then we will the ones facing them with long odds.’

The murmuring stopped.  Eorl slowly paced back and forth in front of them, then continued.

“No, today we must heed their call.  With a full muster of the eohere we nearly match their numbers.  Our horses will trample them into the dust.  Our swords and spears will cut them to ribbons.  We will destroy them!  What say you1”

A split second passed.  Then the Captains erupted in a roar of approval.

Aragost watched it all play out from the side of the Marshall’s tent.  These men would follow Eorl to the ends of the earth if he so asked.  Now the Captains would report back to their villages, inform the men of their eored of their task and begin feverish preparations.