'Where now the horse and the rider?'
Prequel to 'Rain on the Mountain'.
Before the storm clouds of war gathered.
Before the growing shadow in the East took form.
Before the Riddermark knew the choking hold of a wizard's malice.
Before the illegitim...
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Chapter 6
"Move your feet!"
"I am-"
Théadain's insistence was cut off by a grunt as her legs were swept from under her, a choked sound leaving her as she landed heavily on her back in the dust of the paddock near the stables.
"Not fast enough." A low chuckle accompanied the hand that swam into her line of vision, making her scowl with frustration as she gripped the calloused palm and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.
"Then I shall be faster." She smiled wryly at her mentor, bending to catch up the sword that had fallen from her grasp and squinting against the bright sun of the warm summer afternoon. She watched as Fenmer smiled and shook his sandy blond head fondly at her as she dusted off the seat of her breeches.
"You are not tired, my lady?" The older man teased, earning a good-natured thump to his shoulder.
"Of you? Never." She smiled, grateful as always that he had taken the time to spar with her. It had come as a surprise when her father had introduced her to the Third Marshal of Rohan over a year previously, when they had returned from the journey to Rivendell. She had known the man in passing but had never expect him to take her under his wing as a trainee, not when he had so many other duties to attend to. A few years younger than her father, Fenmer had swiftly become like family to her – just as protective of her as the King or Éomer, but more ready to joke with her than her father, and infinitely more ready to push her to train harder than those of her own blood might. Fenmer knew what it was to rise through the ranks as a rider, and to earn the respect of his men in a way that a King or his sons didn't have to, and that knowledge was as precious to the young Shieldmaiden as his guidance regarding her skill with a sword.
Scrubbing one hand over his cropped beard, Fenmer swept his sword through the air thoughtfully; "Have you sparred with the other trainees lately?"
"Not in some weeks, save for with Théoden and Éowyn." She confessed, pursing her lips as she rolled the shoulder she had landed on; "Éomer's friends are now a full head taller than me – I need to get stronger before I can take them on."
"Théa..." Fenmer's intelligent blue eyes met hers as he swiped out his sword, a smile quirking his lips as she blocked it with ease, used to his unexpected attacks by now; "You train yourself to the point of exhaustion-" He ducked to avoid her next strike as she hurried so move out of the way of whatever blow he would deal next; "You are strong enough."
"Éothain had me sprawled in the dirt the last time I faced him." She frowned at the memory of her elder cousin's friend smirking above her as he pinned her with a knee on her chest. She had put up a good fight, but try as she might she could not chase the sound of the boys' laughter from her head.
