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The Saga of Erik of Rohan, Chapter One

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vison
Post subject: The Saga of Erik of Rohan, Chapter One
Posted: Thu 17 Mar , 2005 7:21 pm
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The Saga of Erik of Rohan….Chapter 1



It fell out that Theodred, son of Theoden King, rode to the fords of Isen in February, 3019, of the Third Age. He and his Eored broke their journey in a nameless hamlet along the road, halting one noon to bait their horses and refresh themselves.

The folk of the hamlet came out and stared at the horsemen. Here were men tall and bold, carrying long spears, clad in shining armour. Their horses stepped lightly on iron-shod hooves. One old man knew Theodred by the arms he bore, and he spoke out, saying, “My lord, how fares the King your father?”

The tall young man in the crested helmet turned to the old man. With grave courtesy he said, “The King my father is well, grandfather, but he grows weary of his years. He rides out no longer, but his ease takes in Meduseld.”

On hearing this the old man laughed and nodded. “I rode with your father, lord, when I was young. The years lie heavy on me, too, but it is not my fortune to sit at ease in the Golden Hall. Still he was a bold man, in his youth.”

It seemed that a shadow fell across the face of Theodred. “The cares of the King are many, old man, and the crown weighs heavy.”

The Smith, bowing low, spoke to Theodred. “What brings your lordship hither? We seldom see the King’s men here.”

A man beside Theodred spoke, saying, “We have news of the enemy at the fords of Isen. It suits my lord’s plans to come at them from a direction they do not expect. Has aught been seen of the enemy in this place?”

“This is a poor place,” the Smith said, bowing even lower. “There is no lord in these parts, there are no horses to fit to steal. Even for the Orcs of the White Hand there is no loot.”

Theodred spoke. “I would have a scout. Is there any man here who can take us quickly and silently away from the road?”

No one spoke. Moved by impulse, then stepped forward the boy Erik. “I can, my lord.”

The soldiers looked askance. “This is only a boy, lord,” the standard bearer muttered. “This place is mighty thin of men.”

Theodred said, “A boy like this might know the land right well. Coneys and partridges, such are the things that draw a lad like this to the hills. Think you your father can spare you for the space of a day or so?”

Then rose the hot blood to Erik’s face and his eyes fell. “I have no father, lord. I am only Erik.” As he spoke, the word “bastard” was heard behind him, and some of the folk laughed slyly.

Theodred frowned and said, “I am sorry, Erik, for I would touch no man’s honour lightly. If it be so, it is your misfortune not your shame, that you have no name. Be sure your sons will be proud to bear yours.” He gestured to one of his men. “Bring forward a spare horse.”

Brought forward then was a tall roan horse, not saddled. The boy Erik clambered up and took up the reins and, heart pounding, looked at the tall prince whose blond braids lay on his armoured breast, one gloved hand resting on the pommel.

“Can you manage, bantling?” Theodred asked of him.

“Yes,” Erik answered, and hoped he did not lie. The great horse sidled and snorted, with the untried boy on its back.

“Grip with your knees, boy,” the standard bearer said. “Be sure this horse knows his business better than you.”

Theodred raised his arm in salute and farewell and the Eored moved, riding to the West. Behind the prince and his standard bearer rode Erik, hands steady on the reins now, the power of the horse felt through his legs. Came a pause and he was called to the fore and now he rode a little ahead, taking them on a path he knew well, but that was away from the main traveled road.

Never did Erik forget that ride. Harness jingling, the hooves of horses on the winter earth, overhead the hawks wheeling in the blue sky. A man would say a word, no more. Not silent, but quiet enough. He began to feel like a horseman; he began to feel like a man, not a nameless boy. He straightened his thin shoulders, and he knew that he would someday have the sinews of a trooper. He knew that his hand was made to hold the smooth shaft of a long spear. On and up, until the sun set and the sky was darkening. He knew this place well, and drew rein.

“How far to the fords?” he was asked.

“An hour’s ride, no more. If we stop here, no one on the other side of the hill will see us,” he answered.

“Nonetheless,” Theodred said, “we will light no fire tonight.” He dismounted and handed off his horse to one of the men. “Come, Erik,” he said. “Let us see what we can see, over the hilltop.”

Dismay filled Erik’s heart, as he crept to the hilltop and looked down to the fords. Fires were numerous on the far side, surely the enemy was here in force? Theodred lay beside Erik, and it seemed he counted the fires. He put his hand on Erik’s shoulder and said, “They are only Orcs, lad. We are Rohirrim.”

But Erik was afraid. “They are not all Orcs, my lord. See? There are men there, too. I see horses, do not you?”

The prince shrugged. “Some. No doubt there are men, but what of it? Come, we will return to the Eored. I am hungry, and I wager you are, too.”

With the dark came the half moon, and the cold. Erik had only his thin jerkin to his back, and he shivered where he sat, leaning on a saddle. Someone dropped a cloak over him, and he looked up to see the standard bearer frowning down at him. But even with the cloak he was cold after a time and so he moved about the fireless camp, walking to warm himself.

He saw something on the ground and bending, picked it up. It was a glove. He stared at it in the moonlight and saw that it was embroidered with vines and leaves, and runes he could not read. But he did not need to know his letters to know whose glove it was, and he carried it to where Theodred sat, making his plans for the morrow.

The prince took the glove gratefully. “I thank you, Erik. I would grieve indeed to lose this, these gloves were a gift from my cousin Eowyn. Sewn by her own hand, and mayhap too fine for such use as I put them to.” He folded the glove with its mate and tucked them into his belt, and returned to his discussion………..

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vison
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Posted: Fri 18 Mar , 2005 6:33 pm
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Comments? Love to hear those comments................

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theduffster
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Posted: Tue 22 Mar , 2005 3:03 am
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I'm not a big fan of fanfic, vison. But I liked this. :)

More, please.

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Nin
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Posted: Thu 31 Mar , 2005 12:32 pm
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Vison, I owe you comments since a long time..... but I spent too much time reading. :oops:

Just this one so that you keep on posting ;)

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