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The Saga of Erik of Rohan, Chapter Seven: Erik goes Shopping

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Post subject: The Saga of Erik of Rohan, Chapter Seven: Erik goes Shopping
Posted: Fri 15 Apr , 2005 10:58 pm
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Erik of Rohan, Chapter 7: Erik goes Shopping.

Erik woke to the noise made by the boys whose quarters he shared. All had duties to do before breakfast, and he had Ruadh to see to so he followed them to the stable. The tall roan horse greeted Erik gladly. Erik mucked out his stall, saw to his feed and water and then went outdoors.

Here were troopers going about their morning duties. Erik saw Harald Haraldson and they had some speech together, then when Harald left him Erik wandered up the row to the mess. Inside was the din of many men eating and talking but Erik saw Olaf seated with some other men so he went in. They hailed him and soon he was sitting with them and eating his breakfast. They jested with him about the amount of food he had taken, but he knew them well enough now to return jest for jest, and besides he was hungry enough to eat without much talk anyway. He could not take in the fact that some of these men complained of the fare. Eggs and ham and cheese and good thick bread, porridge with honey and milk poured over, and pitchers of steaming tea. He cleaned his plate with a hunk of bread and Olaf said, “If you think you could swallow more, lad, go back for seconds.”

Erik did so, and while standing in line he was jostled by someone. Turning, he saw Leod and Folca grinning at him. Since Olaf had risen and gone out, Erik took his second plateful and sat with these boys. They, too, ate as if they were starving. Erik saw that they were washed and that their hair was neatly combed and tied back and that they had changed out of their stable clothes. He wished more than ever that he had some decent clothes to wear, and he hoped Olaf would remember that he was to take Erik to the shops.

Men came and went, going on duty or off. The courtyard was a constant stir and Erik and the two other boys stood in the porch for a time and watched the comings and goings. All were preparing for the weapontake. The boys knew many of the troopers by name, and all the Captains by repute. Grima Sigurdson they held in high esteem. “After all,” Leod said, “he rode second to Theodred the King’s son.”

Folca spoke up. “There was a Captain! All admired him, Second Marshall of the Mark. All looked to the day when he might be King.”

They looked at Erik questioningly. “We hear that you knew him,” Leod said.

“For a day,” Erik said shortly.

“How so, Erik?” Leod asked, somewhat shyly. “I have served in this barracks for two years and saw him ride in and out countless times, yet never did I have speech with him, or even think to.”

“It chanced that he came to the place I lived and that he needed a scout. Any man of the place could have served, but it happened to fall to me.” Erik shifted uncomfortably and turned the subject, saying, “There is Ulfwine the Fair. Did you hear the tale of his hand?”

Indeed this tale had gone abroad over the whole city in one night. The boys watched as the great Captain dismounted and went to the armourer. They wished they might hear what was said. They could see plain enough that he did not have a gold hand on the end of his right arm, but a bandage bound about.

Now came Olaf, wearing a loose robe belted over hose, and soft boots. “Well, Erik,” he said. “Shall we go into the town and see about spending that gold coin of yours?”

They walked up the steep street to the middle of the town. Erik tried not to stare about like a wild Wose from the woods, but he thought he could not take in the half of what he saw. Crowds of folk everywhere, and the noise of their voices, and the clatter of wheels and the iron shoes of horses and the squealing of pigs and the crowing of roosters, and piemen shouting and all the rest. Yet, Olaf said, the city was more than half empty, many had fled to the Hold at Dunharrow, and more were leaving with each hour.

Olaf spoke to one and another, and so they came to a shop where he said Erik might find some breeches and a shirt.

It was well that Erik had Olaf with him, for he was no hand himself at bargaining. Olaf and the shopkeeper seemed to make a game of it, and the upshot was that Erik’s gold coin bought more than he could have imagined and he got a handful of lesser coins in change.

A bootmaker was next, and here again was Erik glad to let Olaf do the dealing.

Nothing would do but he had to make a pair of boots for Erik, the man said.

Olaf snorted with disbelief. “Do you take me for a some simpleton of a rustic, standing about pulling the straw out of my hair? I know full well that you have a stock of good used boots behind that curtain, you old swindler!”

“Used boots? You would buy used boots for your son?” the man asked, with pretended disbelief.

“He is not my son, and if he was, I would still buy him used boots. His feet will grow for years yet, it would be foolish to waste coin on having boots made!” Olaf answered.

And so it proved. The curtain was drawn aside and there were pairs of boots in lines on shelves. As the man fumbled with them, Olaf leaned close to Erik and said, “You know how he comes by these boots, lad?”

Erik shook his head, no.

Olaf grimaced. “Well, he buys boots from widows, you see. Poor folk, who must turn a penny where they can. Do you care?”

Erik laughed. “I never had new boots,” he said. “And the pair I was wearing came off the feet of a dead man and what’s more, I knew him well.” He pulled on the boots the man offered and stood, pleased with their fit.

Then came again the haggling and bargaining and Erik stood trying not to laugh as Olaf and the bootmaker went at it, hammer and tong. At last they left the shop, Olaf in seeming anger, tossing the boots onto the floor. The man stood with folded arms, looking away as they walked out.

“Do not walk so fast, Erik,” Olaf said. “I do not wish to kill him of an apoplexy, chasing after us.”

Sure enough, scarce had they walked half the length of the alley when the bootmaker called to Olaf. “It must be as you wish,” he said, sighing. “My daughters may go hungry, but you may take the boots.” Then the bootmaker said to Olaf, “What think you, soldier? We are ordered to Harrowdale. Think you this is a necessity?”

Olaf answered, “Who knows what is to come? ‘Tis ever better to be safe than sorry, and that place is easier of defense than this town. There is great store there, long has it been prepared for a time such as this. Is not the Lady Eowyn returning there now, with more of the folk?”

Erik pulled the boots on again. A little demon of fun made him say, “Keep my old boots, master bootmaker. There will be some profit in that for you, will there not?”

The man scowled, then burst into laughter. “Profit! Aye, they will save me on firewood, for I will burn them, you may be sure! I tell you, youngling, this trooper here is a hard man. Do you see that you never go into a shop without him.”

“I will leave you here, Erik. Think you that you can find your way back?” Olaf asked. He gestured up the street. “See the roof of the Golden Hall? That is your landmark. Bear to the East and downhill, and you will come back to the barracks.”

Erik watched as Olaf turned away down another street, then he decided to go up and see the Golden Hall for himself. Higher climbed the cobbled road until he stood before the great building. Soldiers of the Mark stood guard at the bottom and the top of the broad stairs, and the sun glinted off the golden pillars and roof. A few men went in and out. Erik stood for some time, wondering what sights might be seen inside.

He thought it strange that only days ago he had never heard of Meduseld, did not even know the name of the King, and here he was, wearing new boots and wishing he could go up those stairs into the King’s own house. Just then some ladies came out. One among them caught his eye and he knew her for Eowyn Eomundsdattir, so like was she in woman’s form to her brother and cousin.

She ran lightly down the stairs. Her golden hair blew free. Now Erik could see she was wearing light mail over her gown, and that a sword hung at her side. A guard holding her horse handed her a helm. She donned it and swung easily into the saddle. Taking up the reins she lifted her hand in salute, and then was gone, she and her ladies and the guards who rode with them.

Long did Erik think of Eowyn Eomundsdattir. He returned to the barracks and attended to Ruadh, and went carefully over his tack and other gear, but as his hands were busy on these matters, his mind was full of the golden-haired woman he had seen at Meduseld.

Never before had he known that his heart could be so stirred by beauty. It was not so much that she was a woman and lovely, but that for the first time in his life Erik became aware of the longing for beauty that lives in all men. He saw now that the blue sky and the rolling grasslands under the sun, and the clean lines of a running horse and the sight of that slender maiden were all one, in some way.

That day and the next more folk left the city, following the Lady Eowyn to Dunharrow. Some soldiers rode with them, more to keep order than to defend them. At the barracks all was being made ready for the weapontake, and for the march that was sure to follow.

Harald Haraldson, who had been standard-bearer to Theodred, was given new duties, second to Grima Sigurdson. But Theodred’s Eored was no more, now all were blended into the charge of Eomer Eomundson. Some grumbling there was, but all knew that this was no time for resentment. Two great battles had been fought. Who knew what was to come next?

Of one thing was Erik certain, that he would ride with his friends. He stayed on the watch for Olaf or Rolf, or for any other that he knew. He listened to all, hearing rumour and fact intermingled, nearly sick with fear that he would take lies for truth and so be left behind. Long he sat in the porch of the stable that day, on the watch. The winter sun faded as heavy cloud rolled over the land. The sun set in dreariness, no red splendour lit the West.

The next day opened under the same cloud. Even at noon it was gloomy as the King rode from Dunharrow to the weapontake. Many riders were already with him, and the muster in Edoras was to be quick. The troopers were ready, and Erik fell in behind his friends. They were to set out that very hour.

To Mundberg, Rolf said, the great stone city to the East. Some message had come from the Lord there, that the enemy was assailing him in great force. Alliance of old was there between the Mark and this other realm. Days of hard riding lay before them before they could come there.

As the King’s troop passed down the cobbled road the troops at the barracks fell in behind him. Again Erik saw the white-haired King on his tall white horse. The King’s standard fluttered in the wind. Eomer Eomundson and other great captains rode beside Theoden. The folk that were left, not many, did not cheer the King’s passing, but stood silent and watched him ride by.

_________________

Living on Earth is expensive,
but it does include a free trip
around the sun every year.


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