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Alatariel: Book Two - The King of Rohan
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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14
Chapter Fourteen

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Éomer had left them still sleeping in the Caves and, by the time the siblings themselves made their way to the fortress, he was already reviewing large numbers of Riders gathering in the grounds of the keep. Watching Éomer and his Éoreds depart from the outer walls of the Hornburg battlements Amrothos marvelled at the discipline of the Riders in their formation. He had commanded a force of the Swan Knights in defence of Minas Tirith within the city walls the day the Riders of Rohan had fought so valiantly on the Pelennor Fields and had not witnessed their feats of horsemanship. He was honoured to be riding to Edoras with Éowyn and proudly rode beside her in animated conversation of Rohirric training techniques, arriving in time to admire the hundreds of elite Riders as they set up camp on the plain below Edoras.

Éomer invited Amrothos to dine with him at the top table with his commanders. He found himself next to Delwine, one of the few fluent Sindarin speakers. ‘I hope you don’t mind my sitting next to you, Amrothos? Lothíriel insists I speak to her in Rohirric and apart from with Lady Morwyn in Aldburg, I do not get to practice Sindarin much otherwise,’ Delwine explained. ‘Lothíriel will return tonight, I hope. There is much I need to discuss with her before Éomer leaves the day after tomorrow.’

‘She went with Genting to visit his mother as it seems it was almost on the way back. She will return later, but we will be spending the day in Aldburg tomorrow. Please come with us if you may. Our business there should not take more than a few hours. I will ride straight to Dol Amroth by the new road, which is almost complete. However, Lothíriel will return here with Trondig, as she promised Éowyn to be with her when Éomer leaves for The Wold,’ Amrothos informed him.

‘This is most vexing,’ the older man continued. ‘Much as I would dearly like to come with you, I am needed here all day. I must inform Lothíriel of a sensitive issue and urgently, before the King departs,’ he said intriguingly. ‘How was the King with her last night, if I may make so bold as to ask?’ Delwine continued unexpectedly.

Amrothos was surprised. He knew Delwine to be a close confidante of both Lothíriel and the King and tempered his reply accordingly.

‘The King carries a heavy burden, my Lord Delwine. That he has sacrificed so much of his time for my sister is a debt I doubt my family can repay,’ he replied cautiously.

Delwine laughed, ‘I’m not sure that sacrifice is the right word and your family’s commitment in supplies to tide us through this first winter amply repays us, as you well know, my Lord Amrothos,’ he said his eyes twinkling, before becoming serious once more. ‘I need to tell her what happened yesterday. I will need to rely on you to tell her in the strictest confidence, if I cannot speak to her myself before she meets the King again... She needs to be more careful,’ he said in frustration. Amrothos was surprised at his evident emotion.

Delwine continued sharply, ‘She was greatly slandered towards the end of the meeting yesterday. We have our share of knaves and our share of the likes of Denethor in Rohan, bitter and twisted old men. And we were in the house of one such yesterday…’

‘Lord Erkenbrand? I do not believe it. I have found him to be a most decent and honourable man,’ exclaimed Amrothos, genuinely shocked but keeping his voice down.

‘And indeed he is, but he is not the heir to that great estate. While Erkenbrand is the successful commander and Marshal of the West-mark, it is his eldest brother, Galbrand, who is Lord of those lands, and Galbrand is the reluctant father of Gallend. Had Gallend not been protected by Théodred and Erkenbrand, he would have been lynched as a traitor many years ago, and by his own father...’

Amrothos looked at Delwine in disbelief and concern. He could see how Lothíriel’s interaction with Gallend might be wrongly construed. ‘It would help me understand better, if you are able to give me more background? Even I could see there was great enmity between Gallend and Éomer.’

‘Oh, it goes much deeper than you think. Gallend is Théodred’s cousin, their mothers were sisters, and he was his best friend since they were children. They were more like brothers. Éomer looked up to them both. But Gallend broke Théodred’s heart by taking a Dunlending woman to wife, one that had been hostage to Galbrand’s house since she was a child. His father disinherited him for it and banished him from his lands. He went to live with her in Dunland. Théodred felt betrayed that Gallend had chosen love over his duty to his country and Éomer too, seeing how hurt Théodred was, has distrusted him ever since.

Éomer replaced Gallend by Théodred’s side but it was said Théodred missed his friend to the end, suffering none to harm him, so for that end to have come at the hands of the Dunlendings… well, you saw the depth of Éomer’s dislike. We heard about Lothíriel’s escapade yesterday through the men Erkenbrand has following his nephew, to keep him out of trouble. There are many amongst the townsfolk who would only be too pleased to gut him if he gave them an excuse while drunk…’ Delwine was clearly not overly sympathetic towards Gallend.

‘Galbrand is not happy about the peace Éomer has concluded with the Dunlendings, he feels Éomer should have pressed his advantage and annexed some territory. He knows from Erkenbrand the part played by Lothíriel and Finglor and feels they have had a malign influence, especially in their use of spies. He objected to their protection of their sources. It’s a sensitive subject for the family as it is generally held that Gallend is a Dunlending spy.’

Amrothos looked confused. ‘What have Lothi and Finglor to do with Dunland? It came as a complete surprise to me yesterday that she even spoke the language. I didn’t understand what had been going on in the square because it was all in Rohirric, but Bothrond kindly explained broadly what had been said later, though none of the background to it.’

‘Ah, well, very few know that Aragorn has asked Lothíriel to understand what use the Kingdom can make of Isengard and since this part of Gondor is fully encircled by Rohan, Dunland and Fangorn, she had to understand all sides. Finglor is an expert on Dunland as he has been living for centuries on its northern border. She’s been learning the language from him since before the Coronation. They counselled Éomer on the peace negotiations and were present as witnesses to the initial agreement. Galbrand feels it is his exclusive right to counsel the King on all matters relating to Dunland. Worse still, if Éomer has no heirs, Galbrand’s family have one of the stronger claims to the Kingship, though all Rohan would favour Erkenbrand over his brother. He is a hateful and proud man. It is no wonder his son turned out the way he did.

But I digress, towards the end of the meeting, which had not gone Galbrand’s way as Erkenbrand backed Éomer on Dunland and Elfhelm felt that the deal was wise given this new threat to the East, Galbrand went after Éomer through Lothíriel. He asked Éomer what his plans were for a bride.’

Amrothos glanced sharply at Delwine, not sure what his reaction should be.

’Éomer told him that it was none of his business, politely at first. But Galbrand insisted that who became Queen of Rohan was of great importance to them all and asked if it was true that he was showing undue interest in a known murderess and one who cavorted with actors and other unsavoury characters, aptly demonstrated only today!’

‘Oh, by the Valar,’ Amrothos groaned putting his hands to his head.

Delwine continued, ‘I thought Éomer would have exploded. It’s how he usually reacts, he has a fearsome temper. What was terrifying was that he went ice cold and was absolutely calm. It was Erkenbrand who slammed his fist on the table and warned his brother not to speak of the lady in those terms.’ Amrothos glanced over to Erkenbrand in gratitude. ‘Galbrand retaliated by warning them all that Lothíriel is not of Rohirric blood and had shown a marked preference for their enemies, even protecting traitors, and then suggested to Éomer that he should find his bride amongst our people and not taint it with dark-haired whores….’

Amrothos gasped, staggered by Galbrand’s vulgarity. ‘Everyone went quiet as we were all so shocked. Even Erkenbrand just stood there gawping. Éomer… was silent. He walked over slowly to stand directly in front of Galbrand, looked down on him and told him that he had appeared to forget that his grandmother was a dark-haired lady from Gondor, and no one would have dared call Morwen Steelsheen a whore.

“Might I suggest that you do not repeat that slur in the presence of the lady”, he said, “nor her kin nor indeed any of her friends as these include all the Kings of the North, the King and Princes of the South, the major Lords of the Elves and Dwarves, four halflings, a wizard and most certainly the King of Rohan. Not that she would need any of them to defend her. I’ve seen the lady fight, even I would struggle to withstand her.” And he looked witheringly at Galbrand making it clear he would not stand a chance.’ Delwine hesitated a while before continuing, as though still digesting the import of what he had witnessed. ‘And then, he stunned us all. “Let us speak plainly,” he said, “we both descend from King Folcwine and I think we can all agree that my great-grandfather, Fengel, his only surviving son, was an unworthy successor of his great Kingship, but his son, Thengel and Thengel’s son, Theoden, more than matched Folcwine’s mighty deeds. I understand your grandmother’s hatred of her worthless brother, her resentment that her nephew married outside Rohan and was as happy with his wife as she was unhappy with your grandfather, but that is the past. And you would put your personal feud with my family and that you have with Dunland over what is best for Rohan. My Lords present here, will any of you,” he said looking coolly around those present, “any of you, wish to call Morwen Steelsheen a whore? Will any of you here disagree with the course of action I have commanded?” Well, of course, none did. He had the full backing of Erkenbrand and Elfhelm. But I tell you, he was towering in his control. Éomer has always been quick to anger, as one who suppresses much emotion often is, but not then. He was…’ Delwine reflected on his reaction to the scene he was presenting, ‘…he was magnificent. He then went on to say as for his choice of bride, he will choose, and he alone will choose whom he has as his wife, the mother of his children and our Queen. And at that he announced the meeting over, gave orders to those where relevant and as you know, you arrived back before we needed to send for you.

I tell you, Amrothos, if anyone had doubted his ability to be King, no one did after that. Even his uncle King Théoden had been wary of Galbrand, and Éomer faced him down as though he were an errant pup...’

‘Lothi needs to be made aware of this, Delwine. May I have your permission to tell her in detail?’ Amrothos asked. Delwine pondered a while. ‘Yes, I think she needs to know, although I feel it will have consequences I would not favour. My fear is that she concurs more with Galbrand than she does with Éomer on her worthiness to be our Queen. Tread carefully, Amrothos,’ he concluded.

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It seemed that the story of Éomer’s clash with Galbrand was already widely known as an unnatural hush descended in the Great Hall with many faces either looking intently down at their food or flitting between the face of their King and the tall figure approaching one of the tables at the back of the hall. Éomer had risen and indicated that the latecomer should come to join them at the head table.

It was Lothíriel, in the green dress Éowyn had given her, moving gracefully towards the table, but she did not move to sit. She went to speak with Éomer in front of the table. ‘I was hoping to join you, but I’ve just been asked to attend a badly broken leg in the town. I was about to plunder some food from the rear table and eat it on my way there.’

‘I need to speak with you,’ he said abruptly.

Lothíriel gave him an enquiring look but simply said, ‘I’m leaving for Aldburg before first light tomorrow for the day, but I will be back around this time tomorrow. I don’t know how long the leg will take me tonight….’

Éomer reluctantly nodded his understanding. ‘If I have retired by the time you return, I will wait until tomorrow,’ he said.

His intensity concerned her but before she could dwell further, Amrothos leapt up.

‘I will escort you into the town, Lothi. I think your usual escort has more important matters to attend to with so much going on. Let me get my cloak and I’ll meet you at the entrance hall,’ he suggested.

She went to change into a more practical dress and carrying her large surgical bag they were met at the entrance by a very worried adolescent who raced them down to where his father lay in agony.

Amrothos went in with her to see if he could help. He remembered only too well his own broken leg and gave words of optimism and encouragement to the man. He was impressed by Lothíriel’s competence and knowledge of healing, helping his sister by holding the man down while she set his leg to the best of her abilities. It became clear on closer inspection that the leg was going to take her some time to work through. The man had fallen through a rotten wooden floor and his skin, as well as deep in the wound, was full of splinters. When she realised she would not make it back to Éomer before he retired, she sent the boy back up to Meduseld to take the message to the King.

Late into the night, once the man had taken a strong sleeping draft and Lothíriel had given detailed instructions for his recovery, the siblings were able to wend their way back to the Golden Hall. Lothíriel stayed silent throughout Amrothos’s re-telling of Delwine’s warning, he ended by asking her bluntly, ‘Are you in love with him, Lothíriel?’

‘With Éomer?’ she asked startled by her brother’s sudden question.

‘Of course, Éomer, Lothíriel.’ She remained silent. ‘Lothi?’ he persisted.

‘When you can tell me what it is to be in love, Amrothos, perhaps I might be able to answer you…’ she replied evasively. She reflected on what she had just said and sighed despondently. ‘It doesn’t matter if I love him or not, I cannot be his Queen… I am barely a lady,’ she half-laughed. She became serious, ‘I have a duty to perform, Amrothos, as does he. I do not see these being compatible.’ She looked downcast as they entered the main courtyard outside the Hall. ‘Thank you for telling me. It has clarified a few things. Sleep well, beloved brother. I’d like us to leave shortly before dawn, so make sure you are up.’

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She sat up in her room, tears trickling down her cheeks. It was not just that Galbrand was right. She knew that she would be leaving Rohan soon and she might never be back. Even if she survived the task she must undertake, she might never be free of the doom that lay upon her. How long could she expect a man of Éomer’s position to wait for her? He needed to sire an heir for the Kingdom, the sooner the better for the stability of the realm; he would be married by the time she was free and when she thought of that scenario, she felt sick. Her body shuddered at the thought of her being in Rohan, the country to which she felt she belonged, watching him with someone else, with their children running around, with him laughing joyously at their antics, and not sharing that with him.

The tears flowed as she finally admitted to herself just how much she loved him and was in love with him. She took off the practical but ugly dress she had been wearing, thoroughly washed herself free of the blood and sweat of her patient and donned the grey Elven cloak Finglor had given her, which was both light and extremely warm, but most helpfully, it blended into all surroundings, especially at night, providing near invisibility to the wearer.

The guard outside his door was dozing as she drifted past him silently and entered the King’s quarters. The fire in his bedchamber was still glowing brightly. She judged that he had not long been asleep as she stared at his naked form, well defined under the thin sheet covering him. She walked forward quietly wondering how she was going to wake him. She let the grey cloak fall to the ground and stood naked before him. He must have sensed the presence of another in the room because without warning he sat upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to face her.

She smiled nervously at him to make him aware that she was conscious, putting her index finger to her lips briefly. He stared at her, his mouth slightly open and his eyes mesmerised by her beauty. He held out his hand to her to sit beside him. She knelt facing him on the bed, her eyes never wavering from his. ‘Why have you come?’ he whispered hoarsely.

‘I have to leave Rohan, Éomer, and I am not sure I will be coming back.’ His hand gripped hers more tightly. They looked at each other intently, both trying to search the other’s eyes for understanding. None came. ‘You asked me about duty. It is time I accepted mine.’ She still could see no answers in his eyes. She hesitated, breathing deeply now. ‘I do not want to face my fate, whatever it will be, only having been touched by… not knowing what…’ she broke off, finding her actions difficult to explain even to herself. ‘My desire for you is crippling me.’ She held up her hand and caressed the side of his face. He took it and held it close to his chest. ‘Show me what it is like,’ she pleaded.

‘I cannot, Lothíriel,’ he rasped, ‘I cannot take you without love, without marriage. Desire alone is not enough for me… I…’ She opened her eyes with a short, pained gasp and a look of comprehension. She forced a quivering smile and put her finger to his lips to stop him from continuing.

‘I understand,’ she interrupted, taking the hand that was still clasping hers and putting it to her lips for a loving kiss. ‘I understand,’ she repeated and moved to retrieve the cloak from the floor, gathering it around her.

‘Lothíriel,’ he said softly but intensely. This was not how he wanted to make a marriage proposal. If he asked her now and she accepted, he would not be able to stop himself from making love to her. Finglor’s warning reverberated in his head: to keep her, you must let her go. He would never be able to let her go once he had committed himself to her body and soul. ‘We must talk, just not like this,’ he rasped out, his desire for her constricting his voice. ‘This is wrong. Come and see me tomorrow as we discussed. Please. Promise me you will come back and dine with me in my quarters tomorrow.’

She looked at him shivering, accepting that he was not in love with her would be painful, but it would make the next few months easier, knowing that there was never a future with him, duty or no duty. She nodded and promised him she would return the next evening, and she left as silently as she had arrived.

He lay back on the bed with a pent-up groan, not knowing what to think, his body belatedly showing the signs of his desire through the thin sheet. He looked down almost in amusement. She understood. She understood what? That he could not make love to her unless she loved him back? She understood and since she did not love him, she respected his wishes and left? At least he knew now that she desired him, and not just because one of them had been driven by powerful potions, but did she love him? Did she even know how she felt herself? There is more to a marriage than what she had asked of him; he needed to know.

He was heading back into battle and he had to focus. He would ask her tomorrow if there was any hope for him to take her as his wife, and he would live with the consequences of her reply. At least he would have an answer. He forced himself to empty his head of unwanted thoughts. He had a plan, he needed sleep.

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