Yours to Command

Rescue

It was said of Ar-Pharazôn, the Golden, that he had a labyrinth built to guard his treasures. In it dwelt a fearsome beast, half man, half bull, and none who entered it ever escaped its confines again.

(Telemnar: Ancient tales of Númenor)

***

Éomer was getting annoyed with himself. He had nearly come full circle, and still he could not spot any sign of either Lothíriel or the group of young noblemen he had observed earlier. No doubt the princess had long since retired and he was making a complete fool of himself by looking for her in the Citadel gardens.

Ahead of him, he could already see the stone wall enclosing the old, disused maze with its central mount. Heavily overgrown with ivy and honeysuckle, it marked the end of the public part of the garden. Just about to turn back, he cast a last look around. Then he heard it: muffled laughter.

Éomer took the steps down from the wall two at a time, following the faint sounds of merriment. He had the keen night vision of the Rohirrim, but the wall to his right cut off most of the moonlight and he cursed when he stumbled in his haste. The laughter got louder and suddenly he could make out a break in the vegetation, a door set in the wall. At that moment it swung outward with a protesting creak and a group of young men spilled out, all but falling at his feet. They were panting and shaking with laughter, clearly much the worse for drink. Their clothes looked damp with water.

He took a threatening step forward. "What are you doing here?"

One of the young men looked up at him, blinking in confusion, and then scrambled to his feet when he recognized him. "King Éomer! We were only having some fun."

His patience snapped. "Fun? What kind of fun?"

The young man motioned behind him to the door. "We only wanted to have a look at the old maze."

Éomer knew that this area of the garden had been neglected under Denethor and now was locked up until it could be set to rights. "How did you get in?"

The noblemen exchanged a guilty look. Éomer's presence seemed to have a sobering effect on them. "We forced the door," one of them finally admitted.

"Got lost in there as well," another one said and gave a hiccough.

"Fortunately she told us the way out," his friend added.

Éomer pounced on that last statement. "She? Who is she?"

At the look on his face they moved closer together. "The princess..."

"I knew it," Éomer exclaimed. "What have you done to her? You will be sorry for this!"

They blanched and all tried to talk at the same time.

"Really, my Lord King, we didn't do anything!"

"On the contrary, she helped us!"

"We got lost and it's so dark in there!"

Éomer took a deep breath, tempted to simply take one of them by the scruff and shake some sense out of him. Instead he fixed the one who seemed to be their tentative leader with a stern eye. "You there. What exactly has happened here?"

One of the others chose this moment to hurriedly disappear behind some bushes. Presently, retching noises could be heard. Éomer rolled his eyes. Had he ever been that young?

"It was like this, my Lord King," the young man he had singled out began. "We only intended to go a little way into the maze, to have a look at it. But then Tarlang there," he motioned at the bushes, "got spooked by some noise and ran away. By the time we'd caught up with him, we'd lost our way."