Like a Blade Forged in Fire

Chapter 12

Meduseld heaved a collective sigh of relief when Eradan was gone. Éomer saw to it that investigations into the matter of the blue horse were dropped quietly and any stained hands ignored. Yet the incident only cheered him briefly.

Once they settled back into their routine, he became increasingly dissatisfied. Lothíriel had stayed in the Mark for many weeks now, but he had made hardly any progress at all, except that he knew what exactly she thought of men who tried to take advantage of her gratitude. It was frustrating.

But perhaps they simply needed a change of scene. Many of the Rohirrim spent the summer in tents on the Emnets, the wide, grassy plains either side of the River Entwash, travelling with their horse herds. In happier times, Éomer's parents had done the same and taken their two children along. He remembered those days filled with racing their ponies, bathing in the many streams and sitting round the fires in the evening listening to stories as the last carefree time of his childhood.

When he proposed the idea of a trip to the Eastemnet, Tarcil was delighted with the idea, for he loved horses and spending all day outdoors. His mother readily agreed, and though Eanswith, heavily pregnant by now, opted to stay behind in Edoras, Lothíriel would have a companion in Leofrun.

Despite their initial disagreements, by now Leofrun's daughter Hildwyn and Tarcil were as thick as...horse painters. They had even begun to team up with Éothain's twins against the older children in Meduseld, some of whom as a result apparently felt hard done by.

One of the favourite pastimes of the older boys was to re-enact the battle of the Pelennor, and they had made Tarcil be the Haradrim king. But instead of accepting his fate and losing the fight gracefully, as would have been proper, he had made an ally of Hildwyn, who had the role of Éowyn, and turned the tables on them. Éothain had laughed tears when recounting how the boys had complained about being ambushed and beaten by a Haradrim shieldmaiden in the middle of the battle. Altogether it seemed wise to take these two along and keep an eye on them before they could get into any further mischief.

It would take a few days to get everything ready though. Éomer had a meeting with his marshals and captains coming up, but they would set out soon afterwards. The latest courier from Gondor had brought another batch of reports from Aragorn's scouts, and he wanted to go over them with his men first.

Erkenbrand and Elfhelm rode over from the Westfold and Aldburg respectively and with the rest of his captains they pored over the maps of Rohan in the library. Lothíriel had left them to it, going for a ride instead, but many of his men cast curious glances at her desk and the half finished painting lying there, a portrait of Hildwyn, meant as a gift for her mother.

The Dunlendings had been quiet ever since Saruman's defeat and the destruction of Isengard, so they decided to step up some of the patrols in the east instead. With their horse herds out on the Emnet in summer, it made sense to add more protection to that border. And with Éomer there, he could lend some of his own men to the task as well. If anything happened – not that he considered that likely, or he would never have thought to take Lothíriel with him – he would be closer to react.

At the end of the meeting, Elfhelm and the other men took their leave, but Erkenbrand stayed for a talk over a tankard of ale. The Westfold had been hit the worst by the war, and Éomer was keen to hear how things stood. They had lost many farms, and worse, many people, to Saruman's orcs, but Gondor had sent aid over the winter and the rebuilding was going well.

When Erkenbrand was ready to set out, Éomer walked with him as far as the courtyard below the hall. The afternoon was getting on, but Erkenbrand wanted to make a start on the journey to get home to his lady by the end of the next day.