The Dare

March 15
At some late hour, I laid down on a cot to sleep. My eyes opened to a beam of light from the window. My dress from the previous day was stiff and stained. I didn’t dare undo the braid my hair was in. My underclothes stuck to my skin and I wondered if I would ever feel clean again. Annith came in at that moment.
“Eolindë. You must come and see!”
“See what?” I asked sleepily. I heard a distant horn and shivered.
“Its, it’s… You must come.” She repeated tugging my arm. I stumbled out to the wall and looked out.
“Look.” She said pointing to the East. The black cloud that had covered the land had broken up along the horizon. I could see the rays of a rising sun. The beams glittered off spears. I heard the horn blow again. The light bounced off familiar armor. I struck dumb. I heard a chant of “Death”. My heart filled to bursting with pride in my people. The Rohirrim had come. In the distance, I could see a figure mounted on a white horse as he rode down the line. My king. I had heard rumors that he was in ill health but there was no evidence of that on this morning. And then the cry, “Forth Eorlingas!” was heard.

To the day of my passing, I will never forget the sight of my people charging the scum of Mordor. Mowing them down like harvesters in a hay field. And the singing terrible and fierce that echoed across the field.

My gaze traveled and I saw what they faced. Rank upon rank of orcs, trolls and other horrid creatures. I turned and returned the Houses. There would be more wounded soon and I had my part to play. A ray of hope was in my heart and pride stiffened my spine. I was a shieldmaiden and would not shrink from the task before me.

The Rohirrim began to come in. As I stitched, I heard my name.
“Eolindë! Eolindë, daughter of Telemnir!” I looked up from the man whose leg I was closing and saw my uncle.
“Uncle Léod! Wait I’ll be right there.” I hurriedly finished my work and rushed over to him. He was standing though he had arrow wounds in his shoulder, arm and leg. I quickly got him to a cot and began working on him.
“Uncle, is my father with you?” I asked.
“Aye, my girl. He rode with us as one of our own.” He grimaced as I poured wine into the wounds.
“And…”
“I fear he is dead, child. He went down at the same time I got these. I am sorry.” He said.
I smothered the desire to scream. My father who left Minas Tirith and made the plains of Rohan his home. Who told us tales of the White Tower and the Stewards. And sang songs in the lilting language of Numenor.
“Thank you, uncle for bringing me the news. Let me get you patched up.” I said steadily. I carefully cleaned and covered the wounds. He got up, gave me a hug, picked up his sword and headed out. I absently wondered how Dior and his father were faring. The rest of the day passed in a blur. As I moved from one patient to the next in the courtyard, I heard snatches of news. Black sails coming up the Anduin. The king’s standard shown. Isildur’s heir. The battle raged all day into the evening.

I was stitching the arm of a Rider when Faramir was brought in on a litter. He lay so still and a sob caught in my throat. Ioreth examined him. “He’s burning with a fever, fetch cool water.” she told Annith. Then others brought the Lady Eowyn in.
“My Lady!” I cried and rushed over to the litter as they lay her down. She was very pale. I laid my ear near her mouth and heard her shallow breathing. “What happened?” I asked as I checked her over. I noted the broken shield arm. Her sword arm was cold as mountain stream in winter. “She killed the Captain of the Nazgul. But in doing so, was badly hurt herself.” A man wearing the livery of Dol Amroth said. “The King of the Mark, Theoden is dead. We have brought his body to the Citadel.” He told the now assembled group. Mithrandir brought a halfling in soon after. He was dressed in the livery of the Mark. He was also pale and insensible. I saw the other halfling stand beside the cot tears in his eyes. “He also fought against the Witch King.” I heard Peregrine answer to someone’s question. I knew what ailed him and the Lady Eowyn. It was the Black Shadow. My brother was slipping away under its evil influence.

I made my way to the storeroom, hoping some answer would manifest itself. But all I saw were dwindling supplies.