The Abduction of Éomer, King of Rohan

Chapter 10

Nightfall found us a few miles north of Osgiliath. Fed by many small streams issuing from the slopes of the Ephel Dúath, the Anduin had widened out, flowing majestically through the open plains. In the distance, the snow covered peak of Mindolluin gleamed orange in the setting sun and I could almost imagine a white speck at its feet.

"I suppose I ought to give myself up, once we reach Minas Tirith," I said.

Léona leant on the oars. "A sensible decision. Your father must be worried about you."

I stared down at the waters, which had turned inky black. "Yes. And the Harlond is always busy. You can slip away there and go back to your king with nobody the wiser."

"If only it were that easy," he muttered.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Never mind. Let's find a place to camp for the night now."

I nodded. Perhaps we could have carried on in the dark and reached the Harlond later that night, but I for one had no desire to face my family any earlier than I had to. Tomorrow was soon enough. However, finding a suitable landing place turned out to be more difficult than I had thought. The riverbank was flat and sandy on both sides and far too open for Léona's taste.

"I have no desire to beat off every adventurer who thinks to investigate a campfire," he said, "better to hide from curious eyes."

In the end we found a sandbank that cut off a narrow channel of the river and had a thin covering of young birches growing on it, which would conceal us from passing boats. A long ago floodwater had washed up a whole tree trunk and the weather had scoured it to a silvery grey colour. Half buried in the sand, it provided an excellent backrest.

I sat down against it and investigated the bag of food that Léona had exchanged for my silver brooch. It looked like the merchant had thrown in a bit of everything he traded, from old, shrivelled parsnips to a cured ham. In the end I decided to make a stew in our newly acquired kettle, so while Léona collected wood to get a fire going, I borrowed a knife from him and cut the meat and vegetables into small chunks. I wasn't sure how it would end up tasting, but what else was there to do?

We settled to our tasks in companionable silence. Léona soon had a cheerful fire going and crouched down next to it, feeding it sticks, and once I had prepared the stew, he helped me place the heavy kettle amongst the coals.

I leant back against the tree trunk. "Now we just have to wait."

He smiled at me. "Not too long, I hope, for I'm hungry."

The light from the fire played across his face and I was struck by the thought of how relaxed he looked. The wary, knife wielding warrior had almost vanished – until something rustled in the undergrowth amongst the birches. But he relaxed again when it became clear that it was only some small animal, a mouse perhaps.

I picked up a stick and used it to stir my brew. The water was beginning to boil and the smell of cooking vegetables rose into the air. I sniffed appreciatively, for I was hungry myself. Then I suddenly realized that I had no bowls.

"How stupid of me!" I exclaimed.

"What is the matter?" Léona asked.

"We have nothing to eat from." I regarded the kettle dubiously. "I suppose we'll have to drink it straight from the pot."

Léona frowned in thought for a moment, before he rose to his feet. "I have an idea."

He disappeared amongst the undergrowth and came back a few minutes later with some pieces of bark. When he saw my mystified expression, he grinned. "Something every boy in the Mark knows how to make: birch bark cups."