Compos Mentis [Rávamë's Bane: Book 2]

Part I : Chapter 9 ~ Golden Halls & Silver Eyes

"Uruk-hai raiding packs," King Theoden repeated as if the words had knocked the wind out of him, and fell back against the seat of his throne. "Valar's mercy."

"They were unprepared, unarmed. They had no warning, and if these estimated numbers are even close to accurate, half the Westfold is probably in flames by now," Háma added, then winced at his own words, glancing at where Freda and Eothain were sat at the centre table just a few feet away.

Upon hearing Freda's tale of what had happened to their home village, Háma had wanted to take the two kids immediately up to the king to repeat their story. I had politely informed him that if he wanted to try and move either exhausted children before they'd had their wounds properly seen to, he'd have to incapacitate me first — with a sword. He'd been less than happy being spoken down to by a "wisp of a she-elf," but much to Freda's relief, Eothain had woken while I was tying off the last bandage. As soon as I was sure he was coherent enough to walk in a straight line, Háma and Gamling led us up to the much healthier looking throne room. Ilda had brought up some fresh food while they'd both relayed their story to the king, Gandalf, and the rest of us misfits, and the second the shell-shocked Theoden had heard their stomachs rumbling he'd bid them eat as much as they needed.

Kids after my own heart, they fell on the food like wolves on a carcass — but at Hama's words they both looked up with wide, shaken brown eyes.

"All of the Westfold?" Eothain choked, his sixteen-year-old voice still a bit croaky from his ordeal, and being about halfway through puberty. "They couldn't have really got that far, could they?"

"But Mama would have made it out in time, right?" Freda asked in a very small voice.

No one had the balls to answer her as she looked around from the king, to Gandalf, to the somber faces of Gimli, Legolas, Boromir and Aragorn further down the table, then finally to where I was sat helplessly opposite her at the table, unable to force my face to give her the lie she needed. She had told me and the king that they had seen what equated to a small army of Uruk-hai raiders swarming over the hills surrounding their village — and that as they'd fled on their father's horse, leaving their mother behind so they would ride faster, they'd passed the burned remains of at least a dozen other towns along the way.

Freda's face fell as she looked at me, and she stared back down at her food in utter defeat, her eyes turning misty again; never before had I wished to be good at lying so much in my life.

Eothain immediately reached across the table and grabbed his sister's hand.

"She'll be alright, Fre. She just sent us ahead on Garulf so we'd be safer. She'll be fine, she'll find us," he whispered, but the look on his face said he couldn't make himself believe those words either. No one mustered the nerve to say anything until Gimli cleared his throat.

"You listen to your brother, lass," he said, gently patting Freda's tiny shoulder with his battle-scarred hand, sitting down beside her. "Your Ma wanted to protect you two, and here you are. She'll be glad knowing you're safe now."

Freda nodded numbly, still not looking up, and seemed to instinctively curl up against Gimli's side without letting go of her brother's hand. Gimli looked a bit surprised at the gesture from the little girl, but gave her an affectionate ruffle of the hair and nudged her to keep eating her bowl of stew.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent, for he is driven now by fear of Sauron," Gandalf spoke quietly to the king but it was hardly difficult to hear him in the quiet throne room. He didn't sound angry as he gestured to the two distraught children, but he did sound firm. Theoden looked sideways at the wizard in unease, then rubbed his forehead as if trying to banish a migraine, his fingers brushing over the white left in his hair after Saruman's puppeteering.