Eomer's ward

Chapter 5 – For Lord and Land.


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“When you have finished that, there is mucking out to see to, and then the leather. Do not tarry young sir,” snapped the stable master as he moved swiftly past the boy, who was wearily filling a bucket from the water trough. Dan turned his head, eyeing the steaming pile of horse muck that lay waiting for his attention and sighed loudly. He banged the dripping bucket down on the stone floor, his hands numb with cold, and mumbled a string of curses.

“I doubt you learnt those Rohirric words from the tutor!” The stable master cautioned, raising an eyebrow in warning to the youth. The boy’s face flushed red, and he picked up the heavy bucket once more and returned, reluctantly, to his work.

Dan pouted, as he stood before the stinking mountain of muck and sneered at the task before him. He didn’t think his little short cut along the river bank warranted two weeks of extra stable duties, but the idea of protesting or arguing was not an option. Eomer had made his displeasure quite clear - the incident with the ‘boat house’ was still a sore subject within the House of Eorl!

Dan cursed again, only this time he was careful to do so quietly. He was quite proud of his mastery of Rohirric swear words, and he chuckled to himself when he thought of Faramir and his insistence that he ‘learn the language’ – what would the Steward say now if he could hear him, he mused. Sighing resignedly, he picked up the pitchfork and began to shovel the offending pile.


*************

The King had been in council all morning, and was eager to seek escape from the Hall at the first opportunity. Ending the session, he nodded in acknowledgement to his men before making his way to the sanctuary of his study at the back of the Hall. Eothain, his old friend, followed closely behind.

“If I have to listen to one more dispute, or make judgement on another land issue, I shall go mad,” the king carped, as he reached the privacy of the study. The Marshal, followed him into the room and closed the door firmly behind him, trying to give his liege a look of support.

“‘Twas a long session Sire, and there were many people to be heard; you did well.”
Eomer turned to look at Eothain, and scowled.

“Many people! It would seem half of Edoras and her surrounding villages have land issues! By the Valar, Eothain, I never thought the day would come when it would be me making all those decision! I was ever the soldier, not the politician.” The king sat down heavily in a chair and ran his hand through his long hair, his face pale and weary. It had been a long morning!

Eothain smiled broadly back at his old childhood friend, and sought an idea to cheer the man up.

“You make a fine King, Sire,” he boomed, slapping the weary monarch on the shoulder, “Come, the weather is dry, let us ride out to the East Fields, as we did when we were young. We have a few hours of light left yet”.

Eomer narrowed his eyes, turning the appealing idea over in his head.

“I have work I should attend to here, Eowyn would have me check over the trading accounts with her and then …” he stopped mid-sentence, a look of boyhood mischief glinting in his eyes. “The East Fields--that is a good gallop.”

“Aye, and if you remember, the tavern in the hamlet there serves a good cider my lord,” added Eothain, winking cheekily. “Ledger and book can wait. You are the King now, you may do as you wish.”

“Aye, one would think so, but my sister would not thank you for saying it. She will be in a strop if I neglect her this afternoon,” replied Eomer seriously.

“Sire, are you saying you are afraid of Lady Eowyn?” teased Eothain.

“Are you saying you are not?” challenged the king, looking directly at his Marshal.

Eothain put his hands up in the air and laughed loudly.

“Indeed I am wary of her my lord, I have suffered at the end of your sister’s tongue lashings on many occasions, as you well know! I still don’t think she has ever forgiven me for pushing her into the brook all those years ago.”

“Aye, well, the mud did not come out of her hair for days, you are lucky you only got an ear bashing from her. She had a mighty kick when she was younger, and did not spare me that knowledge,” joked Eomer.

“Aye, perhaps, but then she did tell my father!” replied Eothain, raising his eyebrows and wincing animatedly. “Shall I have the horses saddled my lord?”

*******************

The sky was clear as the two friends rode out through the gates, Eomer’s spirits lifted already by the freedom of the illicit afternoon. It was fine weather for a ride, cool and dry, the horse’s feet surefooted on the firm ground. Picking up speed as they went, Eomer pushed his horse into a gallop at the first opportunity, urging the great beast on and on, his heart singing with the sensation of freedom and speed. Firefoot did not disappoint and galloped eagerly across the fields, the horse himself glad to be reunited with his carefree master of old. Eventually, the riders slowed their horses to a walk and made their way through the fields to the little tavern that had been a favourite of their youth.

“My lord, you do not regret your decision then?” gasped Eothain, pulling his horse up next to the king’s. “You rode like the wind, I could not hope to keep up with you.”

Eomer laughed and slapped his horse affectionately on the shoulder.

“Eothain, I regret nothing! I know Firefoot was eager for it too and I could not hold him back. This was indeed a good idea, my friend.”

“Let us hope your sister shares your views when we return my lord.”

Eomer roared laughing and shook his head.

“You were ever the optimist Eothain,” Eomer shouted, as he once again trotted off ahead at the welcoming sight of the inn. The two friends soon found themselves inside the cosy hostelry, and were served and seated in a quiet corner without too much fuss, enjoying one another’s simple company, their silent thoughts filling their heads. Eventually, Eomer spoke.

“You are to take a wife I hear? Mairen?”

“Aye, my lord,” beamed Eothain, his happiness clear for all to see.

You have spoken with her father then?”

“Yes, he has granted his permission, and we are to wed next month.”

“I am pleased for you, though how you persuaded Skeld to give his eldest daughter to you is beyond me!” teased Eomer. “The girl is too much of a high prize for a reprobate such as you.”

“Perhaps my promotion to Marshal may have influenced him a little, Sire, in addition to the king’s generous offer of a house,” grinned Eothain, signalling with his hand for the barman to bring them more ale.

“Mairen is a fine maiden, she will make you a good wife Eothain. You are a lucky man.”

“Aye, I know. I will make her a good husband, she will want for nothing, … after all, she will share my bed,” replied Eothain, a glint of humour lighting up his dark brown eyes.

Eomer shook his head and laughed, taking another sip of his beer.

“You will be a father before the next harvest is brought in, I will wager.”

“Perhaps, my lord. We have a long winter ahead of us, and a cold bed is no company for man, or king.” Eothain looked mischievously at his old friend before adding, “Although I hear tell you intend to fill your bed with a long time acquaintance. Is it true what they say, that you will make her your wife and queen?” Eothain smirked cruelly (?) at the young king.

Eomer shot his friend a look and growled.

“You may find this amusing Eothain, but I do not! And neither did my sister! I had to suffer her teasing for days afterwards. That boy has a lot to answer for.”

Eothain chuckled, as he remembered the night of the feast, and the embarrassment of his friend.

“He meant no harm, Sire, I am sure. He is only young and obviously still an innocent. Have you spoken with him about … Well, you know, men’s needs and…women… like Bryn. Does he understand? ” Eothain asked, dropping his voice to a low whisper. Eomer took a deep breath and nodded to his friend.

“Aye, he does now. I told him exactly what Theodred told me at his age and I never had a problem understanding after that. In fact the knowledge served me very well in later years, if you remember?” Eomer mouth broke into a smile as the two men recalled days gone by and their youthful exploits with the opposite sex! Eventually, they ceased their hearty laughing and drained their tankards of cider.

“I see you still have the poor lad on stable duties?” Eothain said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I do, and there he will stay until he learns his lesson,” replied Eomer, his face serious once more.

“He did not look very happy this morning when I went to fetch the horses. Mind you, he was cleaning away a heap of horse shit! I did not envy him the task,” Eothain, added cruelly.

Eomer smirked.

“Where is the lad’s family? Does he have no one that they would send him here?” enquired the Marshal seriously.

“Apparently not. His father was a cousin of the late Steward. I am told he died before the lad was born and his mother died a few years ago. Lord Faramir’s father took him into his household to live under his care, and made him his ward, though why is a mystery to all. The Lord Denethor was not a man of kindly gestures from all accounts. Faramir has inherited the responsibility for him, and I suspect he is equally at ill at ease with what to do with the lad as the rest of us.”

“Tis a sad tale, a boy needs a father,” said Eothain seriously.

Eomer reflected on his friend’s comment. He had never given thought to this fact before, and remembering how much he had missed his own father when he died, his heart began to soften towards the boy. When his own parents had died, Eomer and his sister had not suffered one night of doubt as to who would care for them; King Theoden had opened up his heart and his home and had gladly taken them in. But Eomer had to acknowledge that the boy was no fool and knew he was at best an ‘inconvenience’, and at worst entirely unwanted by the young Steward. Turning over these thoughts in his head, Eomer accepted that perhaps he was a bit too harsh with the lad sometimes, but then the boy was arrogant, he reasoned, and disobedient! Yet, for all that, Eomer found himself growing to like the lad. He had spent a lot of time with him these last few months teaching him to ride and was quite proud of his pupil’s progress. Perhaps two weeks of extra stable duties was punishment enough, he conceded. Yes, he would tell the boy tonight.

Bidding the people farewell, the king and his Marshall made for home. The weather was still dry, but the afternoon sun had dropped low and the chill of night was settling in the valleys. Eomer pushed his horse hard, savouring the final few miles of his afternoon adventure. He would do this again he decided. It felt good to be free of the trappings of his office, and pretend, if only for a few hours, that he was once again, the young carefree Third Marshall of the Riddermark.

By the time they reached Edoras, the light was fading fast. Torches had been lit on the gate towers, illuminating their path home. The king dismounted and led his horse into the quiet stable, brushing away offers of help from one of the young stable lads. He pulled the saddle off Firefoot and threw it over the pommel stand. Leading the horse into its stall, he observed the clean fresh straw that was strewn about the floor, and the fresh hay and clean water that was neatly laid out for his return. Eomer knew this was Danimir’s work, for he had given him that responsibility himself all those months ago, and the lad had worked hard to please. He closed the door to the stall and left the horse in the care of the waiting lad.

************

When he went to his chamber to change, Eomer was surprised to see the door of the schoolroom ajar and candle light spilling out. Curious as to who was in there, Eomer popped his head around the door to see the boy sitting at his desk, a book propped open before him.

“What have we here, a secret scholar?” teased the king, pushing the door open wider, to reveal the tutor, also at his desk. Both tutor and boy stood up respectfully and bowed before Eomer, surprised by his arrival.

“My lord,” the tutor said respectfully, motioning for the boy to sit down again and continue his task. “I regret that I have cause to keep Master Danimir late at his work.” Eomer looked over at the boy who blushed and dropped his head down in shame. “The boy is lazy and has failed to finish the work I set him, and I have regrettably had to punish him,” explained the old tutor, tapping the long thin switch against his leg. “He will finish the piece of writing before he is excused for the night.”

Eomer looked over at his ward and sighed angrily, his jaw tight with anger. The boy was a picture of misery, and shifted uncomfortably on the chair, his head low, avoiding the king’s eye. Eomer could see the sad eyes and the slump of the shoulders to know well enough that Danimir was exhausted and stood little chance of finishing any scholarly pursuits this night

Striding into the room, Eomer marched up to the boy and towering over him, pulled the young lad up by his arm, and pushed him towards the door. Dan let out a gasp, afraid of what the king would do to him, conscious of his lord’s stern face.

“Sir, this boy’s lessons have ended for the day!” Eomer roared angrily. “He is thirteen years old for pity’s sake, can you not see he is tired and obviously in no state to learn anything at this late an hour!” Eomer, glared fiercely at the old tutor, his demeanour obvious he would brook no argument over this. Dan looked at the king, shocked by his unexpected defence of him, and then at the tutor, who wore a similar look of shock to Dan.

“But my Lord, Danimir has not completed…” the tutor began to protest, but seeing the look of anger on Eomer’s face, let his words fall silent.

“Lord Danimir has been hard at work since before you even stirred from your bed, I’ll wager,” seethed Eomer, giving the tutor a look to silence him immediately, “ There will be NO more lessons this day!

Dan’s heart sang when he heard the King call him Lord Danimir, he never addressed him by his title, usually it was just ‘boy’. He looked over at the tutor, whose face had turned scarlet at the dressing down from the king, and he wanted to smirk, but thought better of it, and satisfied himself with just watching the man’s obvious embarrassment.

“As you wish my lord,” the tutor said, bowing before the king.

Eomer nodded curtly, and then turned, pushing the boy out of the room and along the corridor. He watched the boy walk stiffly along, obviously sore from his encounter with the switch! Eomer smiled as he caught sight of the lad trying to rub away some of the sting as they went.

“Will you be able to sit down at table?” teased Eomer, raising his eyebrow.

Dan felt his cheeks blush and he pouted sullenly, “Yes sir.”

Eomer put his arm around the lad affectionately and laughed. “Good! For I may well be in need of you defending me tonight, little one.”

Dan looked up at the king and frowned, unsure of what he meant.

“My lord? How could I defend you sir, you are the king… you are not afraid of anyone?”

Eomer stared down at the young boy and chuckled, then leaning down to reach Dan’s height he whispered quietly,

“There is one who even I am afraid to cross, Master Danimir,” began Eomer, as he turned the boy around to see Eowyn entering the room, her face obviously displaying her displeasure at her brother’s missed appointment. “If the lady Eowyn can bring a king to heel, then your kinsman, the Steward of Gondor, will fare no better, I fear,” said Eomer in jest, patting the boy on the shoulder. Eomer pulled himself up to full height and took a deep breath, giving the young lad a wink. “Come, let us face this like true Rohirrim… For Lord and Land, Danimir,” said Eomer, pushing the boy into the room BEFORE him!