The Life of a Stable Hand

The Battle of the Hornburg

A few short days passed, when suddenly a brown mare burst through the gates of Helm's Deep, bearing a somewhat ragged ranger. It was Aragorn.

"Brégo," Alana called, rushing out of the stables and to the mare, trying to calm the horse. "Good job, girl," she said quietly to the horse, noticing the wondering look the ranger gave her as he began to understand just where the horse had come from. Turning to look at Aragorn, she said, "Welcome to Helm's Deep, Master Aragorn."

He nodded his head at the girl in thanks, but they both secretly knew his thanks was more for sending the horse than the welcome. They were interupted, however, by Gimli's loud threats to kill the ranger for scaring him into thinking the man was dead.

"Bless you, laddie," Gimli said, hugging Aragorn when he finally got past the crowd.

"There is an elf inside that is eager to see you, Master Aragorn," Alana told the man. She knew Legolas would be very happy that he had returned. The elf had been quite depressed the past few days.

Aragorn nodded and went inside the busy fortress.

...

That afternoon, the women and children were sent deep into the stronghold, to the Glittering Caves beneath, to be kept safe during the oncoming battle. Every boy old enough to hold a weapon was sent to fight. Alana and Alena were helping the younger boys put on armor and pick out lightweight weaponry.

"You will need some armor, Haleth," Alana told the stubborn son of Sir Hama. "At least a chest plate."

"I said don't worry about me," Haleth scolded harshly. Seeing Alana's frown, he added, "Look, I'll put on a chest plate and guantlets, ok? Just worry about the younger boys. Not me."

Alana looked up at him and nodded before he turned to walk away. He was right. There were younger boys near her that had likely never seen a gauntlet before. She moved on to them, near Legolas and Aragorn,  who were wispering harshly in Elvish, a language she could not understand.

"Do you need some help?" she asked a small boy who looked to be about ten years old, holding a piece of a shoulder guard. The boy looked up nervously and nodded. She smiled gently at him and knelt down to help him put the armor on.

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn yelled suddenly. The entire room went silent as he stormed off.

Alana looked back to the boy, who was near tears. Legolas looked at him, too, sorrow in his eyes. Alana pulled the boy to her and wispered soothing words in his ear. Legolas, with his Elvish hearing, could just make out the words.

"Shhh," she wispered. "It will be alright. There is always hope, even when others do not seem to see it." The words struck Legolas in such a way that he could not bear to stand near these children. He was the one who did not see the hope.

The boy nodded and dried his tears. He looked in Alana's eyes and said, "I have a little sister. Freda is her name. Will you tell her I'm fighting for her and not to worry."

Alana nodded. "You are a very brave young man," she said. She knew he was just a boy, but his words were that of a man's, and she couldn't stand the thought of sending a boy to war, so she called all the boys she helped men, for their sake and hers.

...

Yelling and screaming. The beating of horses' hooves. Rain and thunderclaps. Occasional explosions.

The sounds of battle could be heard loud even in the deep caves that kept the women, girls, and younger boys caged in. At the very back was a path into the mountains, but how far could they go, really? These people were not runners. They were riders, but every horse was up in the stables available for the men who may need them. Even Myra. It was apparent to every one of them that this cage of protection could very well be the death of them all. If the Uruk-hai broke through, they would never make it out in time. Maybe a few, but not nearly all.

A young girl had crawled into Alana's lap what seemed like hours ago. It was Freda, the sister of the boy Alana had helped earlier. Alana had delivered his message to her as soon as she learned her name. Since then, the girl refused to leave her. Freda revealed her brother's name to be Eóthain. The girl layed against Alana's chest and squeezed her eyes shut. She covered her ears against the noise leaking in from the outside world. Alena sat beside Alana and hummed a simple, yet sad, tune their brother had taught them when they were small. Alana did her best to concentrate on her sister's humming as she rubbed soothing circles on Freda's back.

Another few hours passed and it seemed they had been there all night, when suddenly a thunderous roar could be heard. It sent vibrations through the ground and seemed to shake them to their very bones. It was the the sound of two thousand horses and their riders.

"What is that?" Freda asked fearfully.

"The Rohirrim," Alana answered, her voice full of hope.

The people near the twins caught Alana's words and a wisper went through the crowds, spreading the news of the Rohirrim's arrival.

"Really?" Freda questioned innocently.

"Yes," Alana replied. "I am a stable hand. I would know that sound anywhere."

"Is that why you wear that brooch?" Freda asked, obviously knowing the legend.

"So many questions," Alana chuckled, forcing her tears away. "Yes. It was my master's brooch. When he passed on, it was given to me. It is a symbol of the stables for us."

Freda smiled. "Did horses really come from dragons?"

"You know, I'm really not sure," Alana replied. "But some people say that horses used to have wings that resembled a dragon's wings. That horse was called a pegasus."

"Wow," Freda said. "You know a lot about horses."

"I do," Alana agreed. She began to tell the small child stories of great horses that had long been passed down in Rohan. Little did she know, their voices carried and brought hope to those who could hear them. Their words seemed to drown out the sounds of the battle, and the people were grateful.