On the Wings of the Storm

Chapter 2

One of the servants woke me the next morning far too early. My own maid from Dol Amroth being too old to brave the long journey to Rohan, I had decided to do without one for the time being and instead one of Lord Éomer's servants attended me. I groaned when she pulled back the curtains of my bed and the sunlight hit my eyes.

"Your pardon, my lady," she said, "but Marshal Éomer sends his compliments and he wants to leave in half an hour."

"Well let him," I mumbled, trying to bury deeper under my sheets. Did the man expect a send-off?

"You are to accompany him to Edoras," the maid explained.

I sat up straight. "What?"

She motioned nervously to a tray. "I have brought you breakfast."

I opened my mouth to make a sharp rejoinder for being woken so rudely, only to close it again. She was not to blame for the message after all and I did not want these people to think me a spoilt Gondorian princess. Obviously the man wanted to provoke me. Well, I would not rise to the bait that easily.

"Thank you, Winflaed," I replied, remembering her name. "Tell the Marshal I will be ready."

It meant a hasty meal, only a quick wash and having to throw my belongings into my pack randomly, but I kept my word. Dirhael met me at the door to the courtyard and escorted me to where a stable lad stood holding my mare's reins. Nimphelos's dappled grey coat shone with health and when I mounted her she arched her neck and danced nervously to the side. Plenty of oats and more sleep than her mistress. I checked her gently and sat deeper in the saddle, letting her know I would not tolerate any tricks today. Not in front of a courtyard full of horselords. And especially not in front of the particular horselord who after a last consultation with one of his men swung into the saddle of his stallion and gave the sign to depart.

Unlike the previous days no mist wreathed the road. Instead the sun shone from a sky the deep blue of autumn, casting our shadows before us as we rode along under the eaves of the White Mountains. Beech trees covered their slopes and a slight breeze blew down their leaves like a rain of gold coins. A beautiful day – too beautiful to hold a grudge. Gradually I felt myself relax and when after an hour's ride Lord Éomer let himself drop back to my side I gave him a spontaneous smile.

He took off his helmet and smiled back. "My lady, my apologies for having to wake you up so early. But I got an urgent message this morning requiring me to attend my uncle, so I thought to offer you our escort."

Glad now that I had not caused a fuss, I inclined my head. "That's very kind of you."

"Not at all. We are in your debt." Yet a quiver in his voice made me think he knew only too well what my initial reaction had been. The cheek!

His stallion threw up his head and gave a deep-chested neigh. Showing off for Nimphelos's sake? With a grin Lord Éomer shortened his reins and reached forward to pat the stallion's neck.

"Do you like the lady, Firefoot?" he asked.

He did not look like a man who had been up most of the night after a hard fight. All traces of gore gone, his mail gleamed in the sunshine and his hair fell in a tawny curtain across his shoulders.

Remembering the ghastly scene in the hall made me shiver. "I noticed last night that most of the wounded were women and children rather than warriors. What happened?"

"Orcs raided one of our villages in the East Emnet." His expression turned grim. "But we interrupted their sport."

Their sport? Suddenly I remembered the pretty young woman with cuts all over her. Bile rose to my mouth.