The Abduction of Éomer, King of Rohan

Chapter 7

For a while I amused myself watching a pair of swallows dive and glide across the waters, catching insects. They had returned early from the south, a good omen for a fruitful year. However, soon I got restless. My companion showed no sign of waking up and I didn't want to disturb him. He had watched over my sleep in the morning, so he deserved the same courtesy from me. But I had done nothing all day except sit around and now I felt the need to stretch my legs.

Very slowly, so as not to disturb Léona, I rose to my feet and strolled down to the small strip of beach. Lizards flitted into cover at my coming and a wagtail shot away across the water. I walked to the end of the tiny bit of land, pebbles crunching under every step. How inviting the river looked, sparkling in the afternoon sun. I bit my lip. To wash off the accumulated sweat and dirt of two days' travelling... A quick glance over my shoulder showed Léona still lying in the shade of the trees, his slumber untroubled. The temptation got too strong.

I stepped out of my shoes and untied the laces of my tunic. Another look back: he hadn't stirred. Yet still I hesitated, for I didn't want to get my clothes wet, yet couldn't very well swim naked. What if Léona woke up unexpectedly! Then my eyes fell on his shirt drying on the prow of the boat. When I picked it up, I found it still damp. It should not matter if I got it wet again, hopefully it would be dry by the time he woke from his nap.

Quickly I slipped out of my clothes and pulled the shirt over my head. It was so large, it covered me down to my thighs and I had to turn up the cuffs. The material felt very fine though, linen of the best quality, and around the collar and down the neckline ran a complex pattern of embroidery that I had not noticed before. As I touched the neat stitches, I wondered whose work it was. His sister's?

But the river called me. Leaving my clothes in a heap on a stone, I waded into the water. So cold! I had forgotten that the Anduin carried melt water from the Misty Mountains. However, once I had overcome the initial shock it felt wonderfully refreshing. The water was smooth as silk against my skin and crystal clear. I dived down to the bottom, where small fingerlings darted away into hiding. Coming up for air again, I threw another look at our island. Nothing. Léona slept like a log.

With a happy sigh I flipped over onto my back and let the current caress me. Bliss! When the river had carried me downstream of our island, I just rolled back over and swam upstream again. To somebody who had grown up playing in the rough waves of the Bay of Belfalas, the gentle pull of the Anduin provided no difficulty. I did this several times, letting myself drift a little further with each go. How good it felt!

Suddenly a new sound broke the drowsy quiet of the afternoon: short, regular splashes. Rowing strokes? Treading water, I searched for the disturbance. A boat was heading upriver, carrying three men. They spotted me at the same time that I saw them, for one of them nudged the other two and said something to them. A moment later, the boat changed direction and aimed directly for me.

I did not like the look of this! Putting on a burst of speed, I dived under and swam back against the current. When I resurfaced, I heard one of the men shout out, but I paid no heed, instead concentrating on getting back to our island. How far away I had drifted!

"Léona!" I called.

I reached the shallows only a heartbeat ahead of the keel of the boat crunching into the gravel behind me. As I staggered out of the water, a strong hand seized me. Léona! He heaved me up so I could hold onto his arm.

"What is going on here?" he growled and pushed me behind his back.

The men hesitated at the threat in his tone, and as I caught my breath again, I got my first good look at them. I did not like what I saw: they were dirty, with matted hair and wearing clothes marked with old stains. One of them had a pale, bloated face, another an angry red scar across his cheek. The sour smell of unwashed man wafted over.