The Family Line Part 20 – A Gap on Watch

Part 20 – A Gap on Watch

Loud noises woke Theomin. It was dawn of the next day. The bed he was sleeping in was just as comfortable as last he slept in Helm’s Deep. Comfortable enough that he had a wakeless sleep for the entire night, not remembering the past two days. As he felt refreshed, he jumped out of the bed, stepped outside and looked out from the battlements. It was a gloomy day with lingering clouds hovering above. The air was moist and muggy. Soldiers were preparing the battlements, loading rock falls and the catapults above. The sounds that woke Theomin were the soldiers loading the rock falls just outside the sleeping chambers.

Theomin left the battlements and headed down for a final meal in the Helm’s Deep dining area. He could hear ill tidings from the soldiers about, talking of signs of war and crabain spying. “Ill omens are about.” one said. “An evil malice watches over us” another said. Theomin’s stomach turned. He did not know the reasons for all the unrest in the fortress but he heard enough.

Before moving on to eat a swift meal, he stopped by Bragga, who was calmly eating carrots the stable hand provided her. He patted her mane and readied her straps for the ride out. He then opened her packs on the back and searched inside for a cloth to bring rations. The only one he found was the seven sided star cloth he had previously wrapped his bread in while in Garsfeld. He took it and headed over to the dining area at the rear of the Hornburg.

The meal he had was small as nerves stole his hunger. A loaf of bread and a cup of water were all he wanted to sustain himself for the journey west. He gathered the rest in his cloth as he had not a clue when or where his next meal was going to be. As soon as he wrapped the loaves of bread in the cloth of his, he finally headed back to the stables. His only two thoughts for the day were what he would expect in the land of Dunland and where he was to sleep. Neither question was going to be answered if he delayed much longer for the ill tidings of war seemed to loom upon the fortress of Helm’s Deep.

As Theomin walked with all speed down the busy way back to Bragga, he heard a voice from behind, “Ho, Theomin!” He turned around to see Kemel and Eashae approaching him. “Headed out so soon?”

Theomin answered, “Yes, I am. Headed west, through the Gap.”

Another soldier, whom was preparing a horse, walked over to Theomin. “Headed to the gap are you?” The soldier asked.

Theomin looked to the soldier. “Yes I am. What is it to you?”

The soldier handed Thomin a scroll with the seal of the king stamped on it in red. “I was tasked with delivering this to Grimbold, whom is encamped in the Gap of Rohan.” Theomin took the scroll. “Seeing as how you are headed that way and they need every abled body here, you should take it. It is very important he receives that scroll no later than sun down.”

With a deep breath, “It shall be delivered.”

“Thank you, and may you find luck where ever you are headed.” The soldier left just as quickly as he came.

He looked to his two former companions. “I hear ill tidings around this place. Are you sure you want to stay?”

Kemel spoke first, “They are no more ill than heading out into Dunland alone, I fear.”

“Our home,” Eashae then spoke, “is here. Our land needs to be defended from the enemy. There are good people here. You proved that to me. I am broken from my bond and serve no one. Now, I serve whom I want. Rohan. She’s in desperate need. We can use your help, if the battle is brought here.”

Theomin sighed. He did not want to be delayed any longer from his task but he knew they needed any abled body to help in defending Rohan. He knew that if the fortress of Helm’s Deep fell, the rest of Rohan would surely fall soon after. The little girl and her family would surely parish. His family, back in the Wold, would either be slain or serve as slaves for some dark lords.

He looked around, contemplating staying and saw Helm’s Deep less like a city, but more like a fortress. The high walls and the men that defend it could not be matched by any foes that faced it. If there were more brave soldiers like Keymel, Kemel, and Eashae, the fortress would remain standing long after the battle.

Theomin looked at Eashae, “You will stay and defend the fortress. That is your task. My task is before me…out there.”

There was a slight pause. “Then here.” Kemel said, unsheathing his sword and handing it to Theomin. “You have not a sword and the skill you have is great, but it draws too much attention. Take this as you will need it more than I will.”

Theomin took it, reluctantly. Having this sword meant that he had a greater chance to continue killing yet again, a feeling that made him feel most uncomfortable. Especially if it were men he was killing. “Thank you for this.” Was all he said.

“Now get along.” Kemel patted Theomin on the back. “It is heading toward noon and you have only a few hours of daylight.”

“Thank you for everything.” Theomin said to Kemel and Eashae as he mounted his horse.

“Theomin,” Kemel said, “It is you we must thank. You saved us from our bondage. We, Eashae and I, will always remember you.”

“Thank you both. You will not be forgotten.” Theomin said before kicking his horse and riding out the gate house and down the causeway and out of Helm’s Deep. He stopped and looked back at the flags and banners flying in the wind. The sky was cloudy and cold. Crows flew around the fortress, perhaps a prelude to war. The flags and banners, though, flew high and proud. A symbol of a fortress and a people who will not be broken.

It was a very cloudy day. The clouds hung low in the deeping-coomb. The feel of impending battle continued to run through Theomin’s veins as he rode forth past Helm’s Dike and on toward Marton. Theomin approached the ruined town of Marton and headed west toward the gap. Though Marton was devastated, it looked as though the gap stayed mostly intact. As he headed through the pass that accessed the gap he looked back on his homeland. Rohan was behind and the west was ahead. An uneasy feeling of the unknown poured though him as he turned and rode the rest of the way into the Gap of Rohan.

The clouds soon broke as soon as he entered the gap, as if it was not natural weather of the world but some powerful force that harnessed the clouds for their own doing. The clearing revealed a Rohirrim encampment atop a small hill just on the bank on the other end of a river. It was separated by an eeyot where Rohirrim archers and swordsmen were using every ounce of time to prepare for battle.

As Theomin passed the soldiers practicing on the eeyot, a man called out for him. “Hail traveler! Have you word from the Westfold?”

Theomin looked startled. “I am sorry, but the Westfold has been taken. Helm’s Deep still stands but Marton has been destroyed.”

The man’s shoulders dropped. He was older than the other soldiers on the eeyot. His hair was gray and his face had seen many years. He, never the less, looked strong and confident, much like some of the Rohirrim thanes he had come across. His head looked heavy with grief looming. He regained his composure. “Thank you, good traveler. I appreciate the news.” Before Theomin could ask, the man continued, “A sizable number of Uruk-hai snuck past us not but a few nights past and breached the western gate of the Westfold. We had not had word of how the Westfold fares until now. We had to triple our watch and be thankful that no forces have breached the gate since. We are also thankful that no forces have been strong enough to overpower us. With each passing day, Saruman’s army grows. It has been quiet for a day, but I fear his army only grows.”

“I am sorry to bring you the news of the Westfold.” He looked at the man with sorrowful eyes.

“Any word,” the man continued, “from Kynad? Has she made it out with my children?”

The family he was referring to was his. Though, somehow, he recognized the woman’s name, with a heavy heart, Theomin answered, “I found none alive.” He looked up at the man, “but that does not mean they did not make it to safety.”

“They know of one safe place they could hide but if they could escape to there it is beyond our control.” He looked up north, “I just hope those who are responsible pay for their crimes.” With that, the man drew his sword and threw it at one of the test dummies scattered across the eeyot. It struck with such a force it forced it down to the ground. The others looked at him with surprise and puzzlement. “You may take your leave now.”

Theomin left the man to his enraged grief and continued toward the encampment west of the eeyot. He scaled the hill that led toward the entrance. The guards did not care about Theomin. They were concentrating on anything else that moved. He continued up the hill and asked one of the men where Grimbold was.

“Up the hill, beyond the second gate. You cannot miss him.”

Theomin continued up the hill and through the second gate. To the left, a man was speaking with advisors. He was dressed differently than the others. His garb was blood crimson and his cloak was of black cloth. A single faded yellow sun ordained his crimson armor. He had a stern look with a short dark beard and long flowing blonde hair. He looked like a man of importance, much like Eomir. Theomin approached him.

“Are you Grimbold?” He asked quickly.

The man looked at Theomin with judging eyes. “I have no time for games.” He was very stern and brash with Theomin. “We are beset on all sides by the enemy, can you not see that? And Theoden’s mind has been so lost that we are exposed with no help from Rohan.” Theomin handed Grimbold the scroll. “What is this?”

“A soldier from Helm’s Deep asked me to deliver it to you.” He said, “I know not the content.”

Grimbold broke the seal and opened the scroll. It only took moments to read the scroll. “Bah!” He said with anger. “They want us to pack and leave. This is not unexpected. This is the third note. Who are they sending next?” With stern resolve, Grimbold announced, “We will not leave our post to some white-hand filth! We will stand our ground, TO THE LAST MAN!”

The others stopped what they were doing and praised and repeated after him, “TO THE LAST MAN!”

Theomin was baffled. “That is madness!” He said, not believing the misplaced pride. “If those in Helm’s Deep want you to leave, you should leave.”

“What do you know of battle? Nothing? I have seen terror and I have seen hopelessness and in the midst of it all we SNACHED victory from the sharp jaws of defeat!” His resolve was stronger than ever. “We will stand here and defend the ford or we will die trying.”

Theomin shook his head. “I wish you luck.” He turned and walked away.

From a distance he heard, “We need no luck. Strength and skill will win the day!”

He felt the man was delusional. With such devastation, how could he not see beyond his own desire for honor and victory? Though, he is not the only one to be tainted by such tempting waters of victory. He just hoped that in the coming days, Grimbold would see beyond himself and retreat to Helm’s Deep.

With his task complete, Theomin had another task he wanted to see to. His thoughts were racing about what Eomir said about the White Wizard. Did he truly turn his allegiance against Rohan? He wanted to journey to Isengard to find out for himself. He left the Rohirrim encampment and headed north, toward the Vale of Isengard.

He remembered reading about Isengard and the tower of Orthanc. In his texts, it was a great ringed wall of dark rock surrounding a single black tower in the center. The tower itself was a single pillar of dark stone that bore spikes at the peak. Surrounding the entire gorge where Isengard stood were ancient trees, grown in the elder days and spanning through the mountains to the east and on through Fangorn Forest. A single river flowed down through Isengard and out to the River Isen. In his recollection, it was a wondrous and beautiful sight to behold.

It took not but a half hour to ride the winding road to Isengard. Theomin had anticipation for the lore of such a wondrous place alone was enough for any scholar to dream of visiting such an important place. When he arrived at the field of Isengard, though, what Theomin saw shocked him beyond belief. It was devoid of any sort of ancient trees. The tall tower of Orthanc rose like a pillar of evil, alone amongst the backdrop of the southern tip of the Misty Mountains. A filthy troll’s severed hand sat atop a stone pillar. Its decaying fingers were pointing toward Isengard as if beckoning all evil creatures to the evil tower against the free peoples to join in battle.

Theomin had enough. He could not stand the putrid smell of decaying trees and the rank smell of rotting flesh. Saruman’s lust for victory, Theomin hoped, would be his downfall. He only hoped nature would restore the balance that Saruman stripped away from the land.

He left the pitiful area and none too soon. A band of Uruk-hai were once again fording the river, on their way south toward the river crossing. Theomin road fast south toward Grimbold’s encampment. He then saw how they were getting through into Rohan. They had a secret path through the hills.

Theomin rode his horse with all speed back to Grimbold. By then it was late afternoon. Grimbold was getting his men ready for battle. “What is happening here?” Theomin asked one of the soldiers.

“We are preparing for battle. Get out of my way!” The soldier rudely yelled and pushed Theomin out of his way.

He moved and let the soldier through along with a few of the other ones. Thoemin knew that he had to retreat from any sort of battle as he knew he would either be in their way or get killed trying to help. He rode to the nearest hill and overlooked the small skirmish. Though the Rohirrim were outnumbered, their strategies and strength took care of the uruks with only a couple of losses. They soon ran back to defensive positions and waited for another as assault that did not come. Theomin was impressed not seeing such valiant work done by a small contingent of men. He knew Rohan was in good hands if these soldiers were to guard the gap like that. He rode westward, continuing his quest to find his family.