Journey’s End
Chapter 32
Marshalling at Dunharrow
“Falas!” I wailed, “Now is not the time for mischief making!”
I scowled at the horse that danced around in front of me, not allowing me to catch him and looking thoroughly pleased with himself. I lunged forward to catch his reins and he danced back a few steps. I had been doing this for at least fifteen minutes, for some reason, he had decided that it would be funny to not cooperate today. “We have to go! Get over here now!” I said in a stern tone. He didn’t move. I made a frustrated noise and tried to catch him again, but to no avail. Then an idea hit me. I turned away from him, looking the opposite direction. I could sense his confusion as he watched me, and I smirked as he took a curious step forward. Then another, and another, until I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. I smirked as he head-butted me lightly, seeming slightly annoyed that I was continuing to ignore him. I quickly turned and snatched his reins, laughing victoriously. “Now we’re probably late…” I muttered, swinging myself onto his back and nudging him forward, sensing he was grumpy that I had ended his game.
The sun was just beginning to rise, and we were to ride for Dunharrow as soon as possible. I spotted Legolas and Gimli astride Arod amongst the crowd of riders and made my way towards them.
“Horsemen! I wish I could muster an army of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy.” Gimli grumbled as I approached.
“Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war. I fear war already marches on their own lands.” Legolas murmured, before turning to me.
“Sorry I’m late…” I muttered. “Horse trouble.” We rode towards the head of the column of riders, and I spotted Aragorn near the front, alongside Eómer.
“Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan. Oaths you have taken. Now fulfil them all, to Lord and Land!” Eómer cried to the soldiers as we began to move out of the city. Théoden made his way to the front of the army and we galloped out of Edoras. I smiled as I passed Merry on a small pony, before urging Falas to move faster so I could catch up with Aragorn.
***
I rode at Aragorn’s side as we approached a large camp. We had reached Dunharrow.
We galloped down an aisle of white tents as men made way for us and cried out to Théoden.
“Make way for the King! Make way, the King is here!”
“My lord!”
“Hail to you sire!”
Théoden waved to his men and then called out to another soldier.
“Grimbold, how many?”
“I bring 500 men from the Westfold my lord.” He replied.
“We have 300 more from Fenmarch, Théoden King” Another man called out. I was feeling a little baffled by all the shouting going on.
“Where are the riders from Snowbourn?” Théoden asked.
“None have come my Lord.”
We galloped up a steep path, lined with crudely carved stone statues of men, hunched over, protecting the path, weathered by time.
The encampment of the King was high above the armies, on a ridge. I looked down in amazement at the hundreds of tents on the ground below us and the men and horses moving around them, there were so many, yet so few compared to the forces of Mordor.
I turned Falas and trotted towards a large area of grass at the foot of a cliff, where men were dismounting from their horses. As we moved under the shadow of the mountain, Falas stopped suddenly, and seemed unwilling to go any further. I urged him on, and he took one step forward, and about three back. Again I nudged him with my heels, and without warning he reared up in fear.
