***
It was almost sunset before Gamling finally caught up to the Rohirrim horde. He could have intercepted them by early mid-day, had he pressed, but he didn't want to over-tax Dréogan. Between racing through the Eastenment, riding out and back, plus servicing Aefre's...
***hothotdammitdammitwitchyfirecrazywoman***
...mare, well... Gamling's brain was exhausted just thinking about it. And rather than race to catch the …orlings, he kept a steady pace, eating dried venison strips and drinking water from his water skin. When the sun began to set, he saw the lingering dust, signaling that he was close. He rode into camp, nodding at the Riders, greeting those in his command. He found Théoden and Elfhelm, as well as …omer, quickly enough.
"Wondered where you had gotten to." …omer sat by a small campfire, a kettle of whatever the Riders had caught simmering. He dished up a bowl and handed it to the older Horse Lord.
"I'm fine." Gamling gratefully took the stew, which appeared to be mostly rabbit and other unidentifiable pieces.
"What was it that upset Dréogan so much?" Théoden asked quietly.
"Mare in season." Gamling sat down beside Théoden and stirred the greasy stew. He curled his lip in distaste. "This looks like some swill …owyn would concoct."
"Tastes as bad as well," …omer agreed. "I think the men will not ask the younger Riders to cook any more."
"So, did he service her?" Elfhelm asked nonchalantly.
"Yes."
"Took long enough."
"He was thorough."
…omer wiped his hands on his leggings. "I think I'll turn in. I want to get an early start and scout ahead." Nodding to his uncle and Gamling, he got up and ambled towards his bedroll.
"I think I'll turn in as well." Elfhelm bowed to Théoden and nodded to Gamling before heading off.
It was quiet for a few moments while Gamling attempted to eat. Finally giving up, he dumped the offensive offering into the fire and set the bowl aside.
"It was Aefre, wasn't it?"
"Aye."
Théoden disposed of his stew as well. "This stuff is wretched. If I didn't know better, I would swear …owyn made it. Bah!" He propped his elbows on his knees, and cupped his chin on the backs of his hands. "She tried to follow?"
"Aye. Adenydd was in season and Dréogan knew it." A young Rider brought caffe, heavy, thick and smelling slightly burnt, but hot. The two waited until he left before continuing.
"You took her back to Dunharrow?" Gamling nodded, sinking his nose into his tankard. "I imagine- BAH! This stuff is as obnoxious as well! Béma, soldiers on campaign must have better rations than this! - I imagine she was not happy about it."
"I dealt with her."
Théoden poured the caffe out on the ground. "Please tell me you didn't carry her back, face down over your lap."
"No." The third sip wasn't any better than the first and Gamling poured his out as well.
"Good. You would have spent weeks getting back into her good graces." Théoden shifted closer to the fire. "I made Elfhild angry once. Spent three days sleeping with Snowmane in the stable."
Gamling stifled a smile. "The stable is not so bad, sire."
Théoden snorted. "Somehow, I doubt you will ever want to sleep in the stable again!"
Gamling's smile finally cracked. "You have been ever wise, m'lord."
Théoden nailed the younger Horse Lord with a steely gaze. "You are mocking me."
Gamling swallowed the wrong way and proceeded to choke. "My lord... no... I..."
"You are." Théoden continued seriously. "You are mocking me."
" Sire, no... please..."
Théoden broke up laughing, and pounded Gamling on the back. "You are too serious!" As quickly as he had begun laughing, Théoden snapped his mouth shut. "Left shoulder, Rider coming up. He has stared at you since your return."
Sure enough, a highly decorated Rider of an age with Gamling, stepped boldly up to the small campsite. He dipped his head to Théoden and turned to the Marshal. "You are Lord Gamling?"
"Just Gamling."
The Rider nodded once. "I would speak to you in private, sir."
Théoden and Gamling exchanged glances. "The man sitting with me is your King, Rider. You may speak freely."
The man took a deep breath. Théoden had not moved. "Very well," he began slowly. "My name is Ceneden. I was Lufian of the Wold's first in command and I brought Lady Aefre to Edoras at the king's command. I wish to know what your intentions toward her are."
***
Aefre kept herself busy.
Edoras was huge.
When emptied of able-bodied men and Riders, it echoed strangely, was unusually quiet, women and children speaking in hushed, reverent tones. Nerves were on edge, everyone aware of the simmering pot each one sat on.
Aefre kept herself busy.
While Willan set Gamling and Aefre's bedding and furs to rights, Aefre oversaw the dismantling of the refugee camp. The elderly and infirm were brought into the Golden Hall, set up in group rooms that had once been set aside for the Riders and guests.
Aefre kept herself busy.
Women, children, Riders unable to make the march to Gondor, were assigned on rotation in the watchtowers. Teens, young women, took turns on horses, riding out to the far reaches of the horizon, keeping watch.
Aefre kept herself busy.
Every one took turns preparing the soil in the fields; planting was to commence within one week. The few Riders left behind drilled anyone able to lift a sword.
Aefre kept herself busy.
Young women set snares, tested arrows, brought in hart and conies. Along with the cook, Aefre took stock of the stores, the game, poultry, smoked beef, hanging in the cellars; she took note of the bins of vegetables, fruit, meticulously preserved.
Aefre kept herself busy.
Aefre, along with the cook, and her two aides, walked through the barnyard, counting...
"This clutch of hens, allow them to sit their eggs..."
Novices too young for the army sheared sheep, washed the wool and hung it to dry; set it aside to be spun, dyed and carded. Laughing children scraped and curried the horses' rough coats. Stalls were cleaned and freshly sawdusted and strewn with straw.
Aefre kept herself busy.
Wood was chopped, stockpiled for a winter that might not come.
Aefre kept herself busy.
She soothed angry feelings, hurt feelings, eased fears. She rocked a tired babe whose mother stood watch on the tower.
She had large fires lit out on the Mark in the night, lighting up the plains, she assigned young people to man them, promising and rewarding them with sweets and pies fresh from the kitchens.
She had not slept the night before, tossing and turning in her cold bed, its blissful comfort that it had given her in the past, now gone, ridden off, like the Horse Lord whose bed she had shared the night before.
She spent the day after in a haze, going through the motions of life, of living, worried for Rohan, worried for those left behind.
Worried for him.
She stayed busy. Kept herself busy.
Late in the afternoon, as the sun was shining its last rays, Willan found her, in *his* room, ostensibly to hang more tapestries on the walls, put more rugs on the floor. Willan stared wordlessly, dumbfounded, as she flitted from wall to wall.
"Don't' just stand there, you ninny!" She was unusually curt with the gentle giant. She dragged a chair to the bare wall, "Help me hang this!"
Bright blue eyes looked down at her, at the wall, the hanging - Rohan's black banner - - -
Aefre had one foot propped on the chair, stressed beyond even her means. Willan took the wall banner from her, laying it gently on the table, before pulling her into a tight, protective embrace. Aefre stood stiff for a moment before finally melting, clutching at the servant's tunic. "He's coming back!" He squeezed her tighter. "He has to come back!" Despite her refusal to allow it, tears began to flow. "We have unfinished business! We have... stud...fees... to discuss and hammer out. I... I..."
For several long minutes, Willan let her cry it out; let her sob her frustrations, her anger, her despondency into his massive chest. She hadn't intended to be left behind, hadn't planned to be here, while he was there, hadn't counted on not being able to guard and watch his back. As her outrage began to quiet, Willan reached around and plucked Gamling's discarded tunic from the chair. He stepped back and wiped her face with it, before shoving it at her and pointing towards the bed.
"Willan, there is still dinner to be served, the night's rounds-"
He shook his head emphatically and pointed again towards the bed.
"I need to hang the banner-"
Again, the accusatory finger.
"Willan! I am not sleeping in Gamling's bed! People will talk!"
A shrug. *Who cares?* He picked her up and plopped her onto the bed. With a quirked eyebrow, he bowed and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him. He left her sputtering in anger, her nose dripping, a rumpled tunic in her hands. She scooted to the edge of the huge bed - too big for her alone. She moved to rub her face again with the shirt.
- - - smelled like leather and horses and hay and a slight lingering sweat and earth and wind and-
- smelled like him.
"Béma!"
Aefre started to wad it up, put it in with the laundry, then decided to take it back to her chambers, before giving up, giving in and staying put in the Horse Lord's chamber. She stepped out of her work dress and shift, kicking them to the corner, before putting on the deep burgundy tunic. The hem fell to mid-calf, the shoulders falling off her; the sleeves were hanging past her fingertips. She giggled once, flapping her hands -
***much too big, hanging off me, I look like an enormous, freakish bird. Gamling, how would you laugh at silly Aefre - - -
- - - smells like wind and Gamling and leather and Gamling and Gamling and Gamling... ***
Aefre dropped the curtain at the window and crawled into the bed, under the furs. She fell into a long, deep, fitful sleep, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and of male scent and dreamt...
***Dreamt of a white city, its high towers and battlements and terraces under siege...
dreamt of a horde, an army on horseback taking the rise at sun up...
dreamt of crashing bodies and arrows and clubs...
dreamt of black shadowy winged things, with blood curdling screeches, dreamt of five legged animals, of enormous size, with long white fangs, that tossed horse and Rider into oblivion, like dust; of ghostly, spectral beings that swept the plains like silk over sand...
Of silence...
Horrible, deafening silence, and then, of weeping, a wail that rose over Rohan...
She dreamt of a child, blonde hair that shone red in the sun, on the back of a grey stallion...
Laughing...
Joyous...***
She awoke as the red sun rose.
And fell from the bed, prostrate.
Praying.
***
"Repeat yourself, Rider?" Théoden's voice was terse, clipped. Gamling's facial expression had not changed.
The Rider - Ceneden - sighed heavily. "I apologize, if I put that badly."
"If?"
Ceneden bowed to Théoden. "I apologize to you and your Captain." He nodded to Gamling. "I wish only to know the extent of your relationship with the Lady Aefre."
Gamling bristled. "I do not see where it would be of concern to you."
"But it IS of concern to me." He held up a hand warding the high ranked Horse Lord off. "Please, allow me to explain. I brought Lady Aefre to Edoras, for safekeeping. I was her husband Lufian's Captain and I and my men continue to be loyal to him and his wife." Théoden gestured, bidding him to sit down on the rock, so recently vacated by …omer. "I have known Lady Aefre for almost 25 years, since her teens, when she was betrothed to Lord Lufian."
"Wait," Théoden interrupted, "It was my understanding it was a love match."
"Oh, it was," Ceneden laughed. "I have never seen a man pursue such a spirited young one. Lady Aefre led him on quite the merry chase. No dainty miss was she." He smiled at that inward thought. "She made him spar with her in the yards, give her no quarter. You did not want to be on the wrong side of her in battle or when she was angry. And yet..." he inhaled, "yet, she could be as soft as... well, the two together were quite the spectacle. Lufian's death shook her, shook all of us to our very core. I do not know how she bore it." He nodded to the pot of caffe. "Fresh?"
"Swill."
"Oh." Ceneden shrugged and poured himself a mug anyway. "I have had swill. The reason why I asked your intent was..." He took a drink and made a wretched face before swallowing painfully. "Oh, that IS swill indeed. Not the worst, but close." He poured it out. "Lord Gifre-" he said the name with sarcasm and distaste, "caught us off guard, unawares; there were more of his men than there were of ours, and we were not given time to pack and leave properly. Lady Aefre had to leave with little more than her clothes and a few personal items." He picked up the mug and was fingering it nervously. "I'm telling you this, because if anything happens to me, I don't want it to come to pass that no one should know and Lady Aefre should be left homeless as well as bereft. We - Lufian's men - have kept our ears to the ground, listening, gathering evidence."
"What evidence would that be?" Gamling asked quietly.
The Rider from the Wold was quiet for a moment, gathering words, gathering thoughts. "We can't prove anything," he whispered. "Gifre knows, Eadlyn, Aefre's sister-in-law, knows that Lufian's and Aefre's household are loyal to them. They quieten around us, but we still hear-"
"Spit it out!" Théoden grew impatient.
"Gifre knew Eadlyn, and with possibly her aid, concocted a story about being related to Lufian. The day before the orders came for Riders to gather at Dunharrow, I received word that the only known relative to Lufian that I knew of, had been murdered a week before Gifre showed up on Aefre's doorstep." He leaned in closer to the two Riders. "Gifre is not what he claims to be. He is not related to Lufian's family. In fact, we think he was known to Aefre's brother's wife and as best as we can discern, he purposely took Lady Aefre's land and home with Eadlyn's blessing and aid. Why is anyone's guess. " The man's eyes were glittering in anger in the waning firelight. "Gifre and his men are not here. They went to ground when the orders came, but they knew. Cowards, the lot of them. Aefre would weep if she saw what they have done to her home. Please. I beg you," he beseeched, "if you care for her in the slightest, please make sure what is hers is returned." He grasped the Captain by the wrist, ignoring that the Horse Lord narrowed his eyes in consternation. "She would not give her body lightly. I suspect she gave you her heart as well. If *you* did not care, you would not have returned her to Dunharrow, removed her from the line, nor would you have waited until the line passed to admonish her. I watched," he confided. "As long as I could." The three sat quietly for several moments before Ceneden stood up. "Sire. I am sorry to intrude on you in this manner. I just wanted... someone to know."
"Now, someone does."
The King and the Captain watched as the Rider walked off, a shadow disappearing into the night. Théoden exhaled through his mouth. "You were looking for answers. There you have them."
"Aye." Gamling answered.
"More questions as well."
"Aye." Gamling continued to contemplate his tankard.
Théoden stood up, came around behind, and patted him on the shoulder. "Do not strain your eyes. She's safe; safe with …owyn. …owyn will take care of Edoras and Rohan and Aefre will advise her. Much as you advise me. Get some rest."
***
They rode throughout the day, taking a long break late in the afternoon, when …omer returned from meeting scouts sent ahead the night before.
"Minas Tirith is under siege; the Orcs are bringing heavy artillery and battering rams from Mordor. They will not last long," he confided to Théoden.
"Then it is settled. We ride through the night."
Over open plains, with only the light of the stars and moon to light their way, the Rohirrim rode. In the darkest deep of the night, before sunrise, they heard the noise, the swarm, could smell the fire, the sounds of war carrying on the night wind.
As the sun peered over the edge of the Ephel Duath - The Mountains of Shadow, smoke now visible over the plains before the White City, the Rohirrim crested the rise.
*****