The Family Line Part 16 – The Hunters Three

Part 16 – The Hunters Three

Theomin, Keymel, and Eashae reached the gate of Helm’s Dike. As they approached it they could already see the deep black smoke of the razed town of Marton. The ominous look was more frightening than Theomin had remembered. It was not but one day he passed safely around the ruined town and there he was, riding with all speed toward it again.

He had not but the clues the poor man gave him about where he lost his wife. He had nothing else to go by. The only clues he had were the locations they passed on their way to Helm’s Deep. The father said not much else but Marton, the fords from Brockbridge to Gapholt, and the path from Brockbridge. If he could retrace the group’s steps, he knew he would find at least some hint of the little girl’s mother. Theomin did not want to disappoint the little girl. Her little face was so much like his little sister’s face. Her little eyes had the look of innocence stolen from her. He wanted to gain back that innocence that was taken from her. To let her know there still is good.

The three hunters passed the gate of Helm’s Dike as guards yelled at them to return. “Hey! Come back!” They yelled out more but it was incomprehensible with the loud pounding of the horse’s hooves and the wind in his ears. Whatever they were saying, Theomin knew it was nothing he did not know already, venturing out into the open planes of Rohan. On his travels in the western reaches of Rohan, Theomin avoided the open planes of his country best he could. That proved to his advantage as he skimmed along the dark forest of Fanghorn and the great Misty Mountains.

At last, after fording the small river, they reached Marton. The dark ruined city’s black smoke from its burning buildings were choking the three hunters as they searched the charred remains of the city. There was not but dead, dismembered bodies lying about the bleak charred ground. Warg riders were patrolling the area of their plunder as they yelled out with victory with their evil laughs and their snarls. Disgusting were their yells it made Theomin sick to his stomach.

“This must be one of the people from Brockbridge.” Keymel pointed out toward a severed arm. The shield upon which the arm was underneath was the shield of Brockbridge. A single red bridge in front of a yellow background. The path they were on must have been the correct one.

“Let us leave this place. There is an air of evil about it that sickens me.” Eashae said with disgust in her face.

Theomin agreed as he was too sick with revulsion at the death the White Hand had brought upon the terrible city. “We will head east across the river.”

The three hunters headed eastward, fording a river and headed north from there, toward Brockbridge. As the day wore on the three were becoming tired and weary of their travel. The late morning was turning to afternoon. The wind, which seemed like it was their constant companion on their journey from Marton, had stopped. The midafternoon sun was beating on the three hunters fiercely as they trotted through the grassy open planes of the Westfold.

Eashae wiped her brow with her gloved hand. “I am dying here. Is there a place we can rest that is not out in the open?”

“There is an outpost not far from here. It is small but you will find a little rest there before we continue on. Is that fine with you, Theomin?” Keymel asked.

“I am most fine with it. I need a little rest and drink. The sun here is too brutal for me anyway.” Theomin admitted. Only during the summer months in the Wold were there uncomfortable times of heat. Not like it was in the Westfold. It was the humidity that bothered Theomin more than anything else. The sweat poured from his head into his eyes and he too had to wipe his brow with his hands constantly.

Finally, in the distance they saw a structure. It was not what they were expecting, though, as it too had been ruined. “No.” Keymel said with a distressed grunting whisper. He kicked his horse faster toward the ruined outpost. Dead bodies were laid about that outpost as well. Theomin and Eashae both kicked their horses to follow close behind Keymel who was just about to enter the poor outpost.

He dismounted first and then the two others. He rubbed his hand on the long burnt tower, looking at it with sorrow. He then ran his head on the ruined tower. Again, he whispered, “No.”

“Are you alright?” Theomin asked, already knowing the answer.

Keymel kept his head on tower. “I am not the only rider who was removed from service of Eomir.” He looked at Theomin and Eashae. “My brother.” He looked around at the outpost. “He was removed from service of Eomir. He was reassigned to an outpost in the middle of nowhere, Flodgheld.” Keymel looked at his companions. “When we parted in Edoras, we meant to meet again in two months. In no more than five days we were to meet for an ale.”

“I am so sorry for your loss.” Theomin finally said after a long pause of silence.

“I suppose,” Keymel gave a painful smile, “I suppose knowing this is better than waiting and not knowing. I suppose I was supposed to come here and find out myself.”

“You have no need to continue helping. For your own sake, you can stay and grieve for your brother.” Theomin assured Keymel.

“No.” Keymel said with surety. “I now have more reason than anything to find that man’s wife. If not for anything, then just for vengeance for my brother.”

Eashae stepped up to Keymel and put out her hand, “Then you are with us.”

With more resolve then before he said, “You are bloody right I am.”

“Then we shall go.” Theomin said, mounting his horse. The other two mounted theirs and headed north toward the ford.

They looked around for signs of the dead laying around. Not one sign was visible in the tall grass. They continued to search around but found not but one sign. They continued on northeast toward Brockbridge. All three fanned out, looking about all over the tall grass of the Stonedeans. Not one sign was visible. No bodies, no swords, no ruined clothes. Nothing.

“Anything?” Theomin yelled out to the others.

Eashae shook her head, “No!”

Keymel looked over to Theomin, “Nothing!”

They headed eastward, toward and looked. Again, nothing. No signs were visible. No signs nor tracks. They traveled back toward the ford. No signs of footprints in the wet mud. Theomin headed across the ford. No footprints or anything was visible there. They traveled southward along the river to see if there were bodies in the river. There were none.

“This is awfully peculiar.” Theomin announced to his two companions.

Eashae looked at her companions, “Do they eat people?”

Theomin looked at Keymel. “Orcs do become cannibalistic if they are deprived of food for a period of time. Believe me it does not take long before they tear into each other. But especially here in the Stonedeans and the Westfold, there is plenty of game. They can survive months out here before they start eating people.”

Theomin looked around. “Well, there is only one area we have not checked. That is east of here.” The three hunters trotted east. Not much time had passed before, in the near distance, atop a small hill, a large encampment was visible. The ground was burnt, crude towers and palisades were erected. The encampment was not unlike the one Theomin had seen in the distance in the Norcrofts just before Eaworth was besieged. It was larger though. Much larger and much more ominous.

With a terrible sigh, Theomin looked at the horrible encampment of orcs. He looked left at Eashae and right at Keymel. Then back at the encampment. “We have not checked there.”

Special thanks to Balcome of Rangers of the West and Shae of Exiles of Valinor on the Gladden server.