Yours to Command

The Slayer of the Witch King

Darkness mastered, morning gained,
His vows fulfilled in honour bright.
Yet shadow fell on mighty king,
And bloodless foe a dart let fly.
Now heart lies broken, Snowmane slain.

(Anonymous ballad from Rohan)

***

The horse fidgeted under her and Lothíriel tightened her hold on Elphir. She felt impatient too, but refrained from saying anything. After last night's incident it seemed politic to avoid calling undue attention to herself. As a matter of fact, she considered herself lucky not to be confined to the town house for the rest of her stay in Minas Tirith. However, Lady Éowyn wished to see her, so here she was, about to pay a visit to the camp of the Rohirrim.

"Is everybody ready?" Elphir asked.

What had been planned as a simple morning ride with Amrothos had grown into a minor expedition. Lothíriel had the feeling that her father no longer considered her youngest brother a sufficiently steadying influence on her, which was why Elphir had been obliged to tag along. Then Alphros had insisted on coming as well, to have a look at what he still considered his pony. This had in turn caused Annarima to decide to accompany them, since she did not want to leave her precious son in the care of his unreliable aunt. At least her voice, icily polite the few times she addressed Lothíriel, seemed to imply as much.

Just as they had been about to leave, Annarima's mother and her younger sister, Lady Wilwarin, had arrived for an unannounced visit. Two young noblemen, obviously ardent admirers of the latter, accompanied them. The whole party had decided to join their outing as well, and it had taken a while to sort out guards to escort them. But now it finally looked as if they could get under way.

Riding through Minas Tirith always was a treat for Lothíriel. She just let the conversation wash over her and instead imagined the sights she knew would greet them at every corner. The glimpses into people's courtyards, the small, twisting side streets leading off from the main avenue and the little fountains tucked away into hidden corners. A whole network of paths led along the back of the houses, really meant for the use of servants, but very useful for children as well.

New sounds and smells assailed her ears and nose once they reached the fair. Mountebanks were noisily advertising their wares, each one trying to drown out all the others, and she roused herself to question Elphir as to what he saw. This was the advantage of riding with her eldest brother. Amrothos was witty and amusing, but he often did not have the patience to answer all her questions in as much detail as she liked. Kind Elphir answered untiringly, describing the stalls with colourful silks, precious spices and chased silver jewellery imported from the far south as well as the many vendors of foodstuffs. It was getting on for noon and Lothíriel's stomach growled at the delicious smells. Idly she wondered if they would be served any refreshment at the camp of the Rohirrim.

Not that she was entirely sure of her reception there. What had seemed such reasonable behaviour the night before looked a lot like recklessness this morning. Before leaving, her father had taken her aside for a few words, and although he hadn't said much - he never did - his displeasure at the way the King of Rohan had ended up with an admittedly not very useful additional packhorse, had been more than evident. She'd had to promise to be scrupulously polite, even if turned out that King Éomer had already got rid of poor Galador. That had actually been an easy promise to make. One thing she was sure of: he would always keep his word.

What still puzzled her was why he had come to her rescue the night before. She had not even known he was there until he had spoken up - being so intent on persuading her father to let her keep the pony. Somehow, the King of Rohan's reaction did not quite agree with the picture she had formed of him. All the stories she had heard described him as a mighty warrior and masterful leader of men. It had come as almost a shock to find that someone who had seemed like a hero out of an ancient tale had a human side as well. Now she felt curious as to what that even more legendary figure, the slayer of the Witch King, was like.