"Let's move, soldiers!" shouted Degarre. "Our General is over there!"
Hammon launched the attack. It was not easy.
To reach the esplanade where the battle was taking place, the horses had to gallop along a hill, covered with gravel.
Degarre was at the head of the legion.
After leaving Goneril in Fangorn Forest, days before, he was sure he would never see her again. The woman's absurd plan was to go to Isengard to face none other than Saruman the White, which meant condemning herself to certain death. When the other mysterious Sorcerer had commanded him, Hammon and Lassalle to return to the camp, Degarre had made up his own plan.
He knew where Goneril had hidden all their gold: dozens and dozens of chests, all placed in a cave near Rivendell, the small kingdom of Lord Elrond. No one would ever go there looking for the treasure: the Elves minded their own business, the Dwarves were too busy looking for diamonds in their caves and mountains, and the Orcs were afraid to enter Elrond's reign. Therefore, Rivendell was a sufficiently isolated and protected territory to hide a treasure.
He had the idea of going there with all his soldiers, take that gold and then break up the legion. Everyone would have continued in peace with their lives, after all there was enough money for each of those five hundred men to live happily until death.
It was a second meeting with Gandalf, in a valley of the Mark, to make him change perspective. The Istari was not looking for them. He was determined to find Éomer, nephew of Théoden, and his Rohirrim. Instead, he had come across the mercenary soldiers of the East, who, after vainly awaiting the return of Goneril, had restarted their march.
Degarre had imagined that their Generaless had been killed by the Orcs of Saruman. It could not be otherwise. And, in his heart, the thing did not displease him. That woman had been a cruel murderer and the world with her death had lost nothing. Indeed, with her disappearance, they were free.
Gandalf's words had been a kind of cold shower for him: he had informed him that not only Goneril was alive and well, but that she was at the court of Théoden, at that time. She had incomprehensibly chosen to help the people of Rohan. And she was not at all happy to have seen her legion disappear suddenly, leaving behind only dull embers and some food.
To be more precise, she was furious, the Wizard had added.
This was enough to make Degarre reflect: Goneril had a vindictive spirit. If he had seriously robbed her treasure, there could have been terrible consequences. She wouldn't have stopped until she would have found him one day, maybe many years later, when he would have been an elder placidly sitting in the garden of the beautiful house that he dreamed to build with that money; she would suddenly appear from behind and cut his throat like she had done with Mainard. Twenty years could pass, thirty ... but she would have found him sooner or later.
Degarre didn't want to risk that.
When Gandalf had told him that Goneril, Théoden and the people of Rohan had taken refuge at Helm's Deep, and that they desperately needed help, he had decided to intervene. If Goneril was still in that world, he had to continue to remain loyal to her.
"Kill them all!" Hammon screamed. That gigantic multitude of monsters looked like a black river, but the young captain noticed that they were quite uncoordinated. They had not been prepared to fight: Saruman had created a race of fierce and fully armed Orcs ... but they were not warriors. They had the instinct to kill, but they didn't know exactly how. Big, tall and stupid, his mother would have said.
Soon, even the Uruk-Hai's realized they were defeated. They were ten thousand, but they had to face a good number of archers and infantrymen of Rohan, the Rohirrim, five hundred mercenaries, and above all a Wizard.
It was indeed Gandalf the secret weapon. With his Light he was able to kick most of those beasts into the abyss.
When the sun rose completely, the battle was ending.
Goneril and Aldair were covered in blackish streaks, Orc's blood. Soon after the last Uruk was killed, the woman leaned forward on the saddle and rested her head on Aldair's neck. "It's over. We've made it again."
In a sort of tragic answer, the horse gave a brief neigh and then collapsed to the ground. Immediately Goneril stood up. "Aldair!!" she shouted.
The stallion had been hit. Blood gushed from the jugular.
"No! No! Aldair ..." screamed Goneril, desperate. But the stallion died.
She remained motionless, unable to react, in silent contemplation of the carcass. The warrior had never counted the battles she fought in, but there had been many, in ten, bloody years. She and Aldair had survived everything and everyone. And now it was gone too. For the umpteenth time in her life, she felt the unsettling feeling of being alone in the world. Aldair was a horse, an animal, but it was also the only being which remained close to her against all adversity.
"Goneril." said a masculine voice behind her.
The woman turned and saw her captain. Degarre approached, he was smiling. "It's over, Goneril. Théoden says the battle is won."
The girl didn't seem to react.
"Goneril ... General ... did you hear me?" Degarre repeated. "It's over. It's ..."
In a flash, the woman ran to him and started to hit him with a series of well-aimed slaps.
"Ugly traitor, worm...thief! ... where have you been so far!!" She screamed.
The other soldiers turned around, and, with Hammon, watched the situation, while Degarre tried to defend himself. ".... how did you all dare ?! How !!!" She shouted again.
Degarre grabbed her wrists. "Calm down, calm down now! We were going to Isengard." He lied. "... we were going there to look for you!"
"Liar!" she replied, breaking free from the soldier's grip. "You wanted to rob me, didn't you? Admit it!"
"No, Goneril!" Hammon intervened. "We ran here when the Wizard told us you were in danger. We would never betray you, you know it. Soldiers!"
he turned to the legionaries. Several had fallen during the battle. "... salute to the General!"
The mercenaries lined up in two rows and shouted the military salute. Goneril didn't care about them. She kept staring at Degarre. I don't buy that. I know what you wanted to do, thief. I read it in your eyes.
"We're here for you. Hammon says the truth. I would never betray you ..." Degarre added, in the most sincere tone he could find.
"Shut up." she hissed, closing his mouth with one hand. "You just have to shut up."
The surviving soldiers of Rohan watched the scene confused. Even King Théoden, happy for the unexpected triumph, looked at them. "We have won one of the most terrible battles I have ever seen. It is not time for resentment, now. Keep your skirmishes for later."
Goneril turned around.
"Yes, exactly, we won. And I remind you, Majesty, that we deserve a reward."
Théoden did not seem to understand. "Idis ... do you want ... money from me?"
The girl advanced a few steps. "My name is Goneril and I command an army of mercenaries, if you have not yet understood it. Our skirmishes do not concern you. What is important, now, is that we have defended your people and I only need to turn my gaze on my men to understand that some of them have lost their lives. I demand a payment. And it must be substantial, as your niece promised me. "
"My sister didn't promise you anything, neither did I, nor my uncle." Éomer snapped, in the meantime he had approached the King. "Therefore, stop with that arrogance. You and your soldiers fought with us, it's true. But my family owes you nothing."
"You have a short memory, Éomer. If I remember correctly, you had promised that you would have knelt before me if I had helped you in any way. Or am I wrong?" she asked. "Come on then, do it."
Éomer was about to grab her arm and throw that woman to the other side of the valley. He had enough of that witch and her wild cat grins.
"Enough!" the King ordered. "Forgive her for the moment, Éomer. I ask you to be patient with this girl." He looked at Goneril. "I promise you we will discuss your payment tomorrow night, if that is really what you want. Today we must count our dead and give them a proper burial. And by tonight our people must be brought back to Edoras. I hope you will help us in this, too."
"Sure. But the price gets higher, Majesty." she replied, ineffable.
Théoden did not answer and walked away.
Éomer said: "I don't know why our King shows you such generosity. But stay away from me, did you understand me?" He growled.
⚜️⚜️⚜️
"I talked to my uncle. He says you and your soldiers are welcome inside our Palace. We will not let you sleep in a camp in the cold." Éowyn told her.
All the people of Théoden, along with the soldiers of Goneril, had finally returned to Edoras.
In the meantime Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas had gone to Isengard, where another tremendous battle was said to have been fought, between the Ents, those tree-shaped Elves that protected the woods, and the Orcs. The three were worried about two Hobbits, Pippin and Merry, who probably had been involved in the matter.
"Your soldiers will have to sleep in three large dormitories. You will sleep in my room." Éowyn explained. "I had a bed added."
"I'll stay with my soldiers instead." retorted Goneril.
"On the wooden floor? We don't have enough beds, they'll have to sleep on the pavement." answered Éowyn. "But we'll make you a bed. You are a woman."
The two girls were crossing the corridors of the Palace. It was terribly cold even inside, despite the many candlesticks lit.
"I only ask you one thing: I need to wash myself. I am covered with mud." said Goneril, entering the princess's room. It was simple, tastefully decorated but not too pompous. Pretty, but cold ... just like Éowyn.
"Yes, me too. We are all exhausted. My uncle has decided that tomorrow night we will celebrate the victory here in the Palace, but if I have to tell you the truth, I am not in the mood. I have seen too much death in these hours." The girl sighed. "Too many of our subjects have not returned."
"Subjects." Goneril repeated, taking off her shoes and the armor. Her body was aching, all the muscles still stiffened by the tension of battle. "You like to use this word ... subjects. That is, people subjogated to the royal family."
"I would not put it in such raw terms. I love our people. And they love my uncle. I would not speak of submission." the princess retorted. "You don't accept the concept of aristocracy, I suppose."
"No. I hate it. I think Eru created us all equal, and I think this story of the blue blood is a lie. Your blood is as red as mine, Éowyn." answered Goneril.
"Well, I don't believe in blue blood, either. But in any case, you should have it, if you are who my uncle believes." the young woman said, pulling some towels out of the closet. "I also think that the task of kings and queens is to defend their peoples. For this they are invested with such power. Not to flaunt scepters and diadems."
"However, many do. Your uncle sleeps in a room like this, in a big and comfortable bed like yours, and also your brother. Your people, from what I have seen, must instead be content to live in houses made of wood with two rooms and one bed, if they're lucky." Goneril objected. Then she approached Éowyn. "You know, these are the damn privileges of the rich that I can't stand. I dream of a society in which everybody are equal, and there are no social injustices. Where wealth is for everyone and everyone must be able to enjoy it. No more power in the hands of few aristocrats...but to the people. "
Éowyn was puzzled. "There are no similar societies. Kings, Queens, Masters ... they have always existed. And they are necessary. And it seemed to me that your dream was to build your own kingdom ..."
"Necessary...no dear!" Goneril retorted. "And you say well: a society like the one I imagine does not exist ... I was just about to build it. Perhaps the word kingdom is not the best term to describe what I have in mind. You know, I really think I'll succeed in this, now that I still have my soldiers. Now that I know my funds are still there."
The Princess of Rohan did not know how to reply. Goneril's vision was something beyond her comprehension. She handed her the sheets. "Here. If you want to wash, there's a wooden tank in that room. I also have a few pieces of soap and a berry extract for the hair."
"Do you also have a servant who washes your back?" Goneril asked ironically. She thought of Lassalle. She wondered where that little mouse was gone...
Éowyn replied coldly: "No. I do not."
"What a strange princess you are ..." Goneril commented, with a smile. She looked into the closet and saw some clothes. "... look at this beautiful wardrobe ..."
"I will give you a dress if you wish. For tomorrow's feast, that is." Éowyn said. "You don't often dress like a lady, I guess."
Goneril laughed. "And you are wrong. I have much nicer clothes than these, if you want to know."
"Ah really, and where do you keep them?" Éowyn asked provocatively.
"In my personal baggage, that stupid Degarre threw everything away, thinking I was dead. He didn't tell me, but I know he did. He hoped he got rid of me, that poor idiot." She said.
"So you don't have clothes. That is why you have to accept my gift." Éowyn said. "Choose one of my gowns, if you want. Meanwhile, I look for food." and she left the room.
Why does that girl continue to be kind with me even if I treat her badly? Goneril wondered. If she doesn't stop, I'll have to start loving her.
Then she laughed again.