Sword Maiden of Rohan | Of Every Race Saga Book IV

Chapter 10: The Journey Back

Éomer slept deeply, yet his slumber was strewn with disturbing images, disturbing because he didn't understand them. A scene of dark rain, a river where bodies of men, orcs, and horses lay on the banks and in the river itself. Of him leading men out of Edoras while others hid their eyes from the sight, as if ashamed. The last troubled him most deeply, him leading the same men across the fields of Rohan, yet it seemed as if a heavy weight had wrapped itself around his heart and couldn't be loosened and he, in his dream, couldn't understand why he felt such pain.

Then the dark oblivion passed away and he heard, as if in a great distance, singing. The melody was unfamiliar, but at the same time he seemed to recognize some of the tune. The bittersweet melody rose and fell, sometime low and deep throated and at other times high, but yet silvery and not harsh. He tried to concentrate on the words, but discovered that he did not understand them. They didn't sound at all like the language spoken in Rohan, but not the Common Speech either. It reminded him of the time that envoys from Gondor visited Eodoras and at one point spoke to each other in their own language; these words sounded like it. Then the song finished on a mellow note and silence reigned for a few minutes.

Another song began, only in a different language that he could not recognize at all. The melody this time was mystical and soft. Éomer soon became aware of a flickering reddish yellow light, and he struggled to open his eyes. The smells of fresh, roasting meat, made him sit up and as he did so, his eyes opened. The song had faded away and he stared at the sight in front of him.

Déorhild stood bent over a small fire that flickered brightly in the dark twilight. She had just finished putting some more wood on the fire over which hang a make-shift spit on which a moderate portion of meat was roasting. Overhead, the stars glimmered coldly down from their lofty places in the night sky. Nearby, Éomer's horse was grazing while the saddle and a curious looking bundle lay near the fire.

Éomer sat up straighter and pushed away the blanket which he had been laying under since he went to sleep. At his sudden movement, Déorhild started and stood straight, looking at him. A chill wind raced across the plain and ruffled her long hair, which blew hard with the wind. She was clothed now in a simple dress that had short slits running up the sides allowing movement, very similiar to his sister's; she had obviously discarded her armour earlier as it lay with the bundle near the fire. Then she strode over to where he sat and knelt silently beside him, gently pulling off the bandage on his arm. Éomer stared at her, surprised at her silence. The only other sound being the wind and the crackle of the flames. The silence to him was eerie, but he didn't speak.

Déorhild finished binding the wound as she had begun; in silence. She turned back to the fire and carefully took off the meat that was on the spit and using her clean knife, cut it into two portions. She handed one to Éomer and they both ate. Surprisingly, it tasted much better than Éomer had anticipated. At last Éomer spoke. "Déorhild, where did you get this meat? For you know as well as I that no creatures, unless orcs count, roam these desolate lands. Do you mean to say that--?" he left his sentence unfinished, horrified at the idea that struck him.

Déorhild looked up at him, a shocked expression on her face which then turned into a wry smile. "No, of course not. Where did you get that insane idea?"

Éomer shrugged. "I was just trying to think of an explanation. Though I dare say," he added, "If this is orc, it tastes very good."

He heard Déorhild choke and he looked up at her. She sat, leaning her head on one of her hands, her shoulders shaking. She raised her head and he realized that she was laughing. He also realized that it was the first time he had heard her laugh and it was a beautiful sound. She kept on laughing while he stared at her in disbelief. When she recovered herself, she said,  "No, of course not." Then she sobered down a great deal and looked at him strangely, "I'll tell you when you've finished eating."