On the Wings of the Storm

Chapter 8

I got the chance to wear my new cloak the very next day. Apparently tradition demanded that a Yule hunt be held, so Éowyn had organized an outing into the mountains. The whole court assembled outside the gates of Edoras just after sunrise, the horses' breath hanging in the cold air in big white clouds. Swathes of mist drifted past us, swallowing up the grey horses favoured by the Rohirrim, so only the jingle of tack and occasional creak of leather revealed their presence. It reminded me of that day three months ago that I had met the Marshal on the road to Aldburg. How threatening his men had seemed then. Now I found comfort in their presence, their manner and speech no longer strange.

A hunting horn interrupted my thoughts, the call taken up all around me, until the mist rang with the sound and our pack of hounds started howling and barking. Nimphelos threw her head up nervously, and I leaned forward to pat her. Suddenly Éowyn appeared out of the fog.

"Théodred's given the sign to depart!" she called. "This way."

I followed her towards the front of the column, but then hung back, not wanting to particularly meet the two men riding there. Prince Théodred and Marshal Éomer were deep in conversation, their kinship evident from their looks, with both of them tall, powerful men with the blond hair of the Rohirrim, although the prince's hair was darker than his cousin's. His party had arrived late in the afternoon the day before, and I had been introduced to him after the evening meal. Fortunately Lord Éomer had claimed his attention just that moment, enabling me to fade into the background and slip away to my room soon after. Now I let Éowyn ride ahead and pulled up next to a woman on a dark grey palfrey. I had met Lady Ceolwen the day before, though I had not expected to see her at the hunt, for she was visibly pregnant.

"Princess Lothíriel." She smiled a greeting at me. "That's a lovely cloak you're wearing."

"Thank you. I have found I need warm clothes in this northern climate." I did not elaborate on the provenance of my newest garment.

Ceolwen gave a sympathetic chuckle, her blue eyes twinkling at me. "I imagine so!"

Beside her, her husband Lord Erkenbrand leaned forward. "Ceolwen, love, are you warm enough?" I had heard him called the Bear of the West Mark and he dwarfed his delicate wife, but that moment he resembled nothing so much as an anxious mother hen. Turning my face away, I hid a smile.

Ceolwen patted his hand. "Don't worry about me." Leaning towards me conspiratorially, she explained. "You see, this is our first child."

As I congratulated her, he looked on proudly. Éowyn had told me he had full-grown twin daughters from a first marriage and idly I wondered what they made of their father doting on a woman half his age. Our road had started to climb the mountains behind Edoras by now and the rising sun turned the streamers of mist clinging to the trees pale gold. Somewhere in the forest a jay called out his warning and behind me a rider cursed the vigilant bird for alerting the other animals. For myself I did not mind. I might have brought my bow with me, but I did not intend to spill any blood on such a beautiful day.

Ceolwen went on to pepper me with questions about Gondor, and Dol Amroth in particular, showing an artless curiosity in foreign peoples and customs. Telling her about my father's Yule Ball I found myself suddenly longing for home. Not the great hall lit with thousands of candles and thronged with lords and ladies in their finery, but the quiet evenings spent reading in the library with my father sitting in his worn leather chair by the fire. And my brothers! Elphir, who had got me out of many a scrap, quiet and scholarly Erchirion and even the ever-teasing Amrothos. A pang of homesickness ran through me at the thought of spending Yule so far away from them. Were they thinking of me? Dirhael had been gone three weeks, he might well be home by now. I had received no news from Dol Amroth since I got here, but surely that just meant they were busy. I pushed the thought away from me that something might have happened to them in Gondor's many wars.