On the Wings of the Storm

Chapter 23

A couple of paces from me, Éomer brought Firefoot to an abrupt halt. The stallion tried to rear, snorting and pulling on the bit, but Éomer checked him firmly.

"Lothíriel! What are you doing here?"

For a moment all I could do was to drink in the sight of him. Alive and well! And I had forgotten how handsome he was. The setting sun turned his blond hair to burnished gold and made his armour shine.

"I'm going home," I answered.

He gave a ferocious frown. "I wrote to Ceolwen that you were to stay at the Hornburg."

"I know. Please don't blame Ceolwen."

"My lady," he snapped, "I know exactly whom to blame."

"Oh, that's good then."

I smiled at him. My heart was singing inside, it was so wonderful to see him again. And for the briefest instant the corners of his mouth turned up and an answering spark flashed in his eyes, but then he suppressed it.

Instead he turned his scowl on my escort. "These are my own men! Godric, I take a very dim view of your going along with this scheme of the princess's without my permission."

Poor Godric looked alarmed. "But my Lord King," he stammered. "Captain Freotheric himself gave me my orders. The Princess had a letter from you that commanded him to provide her with an escort home."

"What?"

I squirmed in the saddle. This meeting was not going as I had planned. "I had to use a small subterfuge to secure their services. Please don't be angry. I'm only borrowing them."

"Borrowing them!" His tone made his displeasure plain.

"Just for a little while..."

Éomer's brows lowered in a frown. Somehow things were going from bad to worse! What had seemed such a reasonable course to take in Rohan now looked rash and childish in the face of his relentless disapproval. And I did not even have the subtle backing that a pretty gown gave.

"My lady," he said, "I thought I had made my orders clear: you were to stay at the Hornburg and wait for me!" Then he checked himself. "That is, wait for your brother."

Perhaps matters weren't completely hopeless! But he gave me no chance to exploit this slip of the tongue.

"I only had your safety in mind. As King of the Mark I expect my orders to be obeyed," he snapped.

I looked down. It would probably not go down well if I pointed out that I was a Gondorian princess on Gondorian soil and thus outside his dominion. Besides, he had his whole army to back him up - not that he needed it.

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

Firefoot chose that moment to try and sidle up to Nimphelos, and Éomer had to rein him in hard. Nimphelos, that tease, lowered her head to nibble at a blade of grass while the stallion chewed on his bit, foam flecking his neck.

"Stupid animal," Éomer growled, but not without affection. He fixed me with a stern glare. "Now what am I supposed to do with you?"

Remembering our leave taking, I had an idea, but thought it better not to voice the suggestion out loud. As his glance lingered on me, the expression on his face did make me wonder though if his thoughts might not run in the same direction.

"Lothíriel!" the shout made me look up.

Unnoticed by either of us, Éomer's companions had ridden up. One of them nudged his horse forward. Amrothos!