Rangers of the North (Aragorn)

Chapter Sixteen: Horse-Lords

The next morning, the four hunters woke early to continue on their way. Averael's body was stiff and sore from running, but she kept moving, still tracking the hobbits. Legolas paused and looked up at the red sky as the sun rose.

"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilt this night." He said. Averael deeply hoped it hadn't been the hobbits' blood. Pushing the thought away, she continued. 

A little later, the hunters saw a group of men on horses in the distance. Not knowing if they were enemies or friends, Aragorn directed them all to hide behind a boulder. Averael crouched down. She felt a hand grab hers, and looked back to see Aragorn. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. She looked ahead again, watching the riders approach. 

They watched the group ride past, and Aragorn stepped out.

"Riders of Rohan! What news from the mark?" He shouted. The group made a wide arc and turned, heading back to where the shout had come from. Averael stood up straight and walked out next to Aragorn, followed by Legolas and Gimli. The riders circled around them, growing tighter and tighter. The men stopped their horses when the four were confined adequately, back to back.

"What buisness does an Elf, a man, a Dwarf, and a woman have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!" The lead man spoke out, his eyes glancing at Averael for a moment longer, with a look of slight confusion. He had blue eyes and long hair that was halfway pulled back under his helmet. 

"Give me your name, Horsemaster, and I shall give you mine." Gimli said. The man handed his spear to another man, and dismounted his horse. Aragorn put a defensive hand on Gimli's shoulder.

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." The man said. Legolas pointed an arrow in Eomer's face in a lightning fast move.

"You would die before your stroke fell." He said. Spears were pointed at them from all directions. Averael's hand went to the hilt of her sword instinctively, and she took a small step backwards. Aragorn lowered Legolas' bow, and spoke up to the man, ignoring the spears. 

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, this is Averael of the Dunedain, Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of the Woodland Realm. We are friends of Rohan and of Theoden, your king." Aragorn said. The spears were withdrawn at a signal from the lead Rohirrim. 

"Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe." He took off his helmet. "Not even his own kin. I am Eomer, son of Eomund, nephew of King Theoden. Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets." Eomer said, suspicious off the odd group. 

"We are not spies. We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They've taken two of our friends captive." Aragorn explained.

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night." Eomer said dismissively. 

"There were hobbits. Did you see two hobbits with them?" Gimli pressed. Eomer shook his head.

"They would be small- only children to your eyes." Averael spoke up, her heart racing. 

"We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." Eomer pointed to a smoking pile in the distance. Averael stared at him in disbelief, then dropped her gaze to the ground. 

"Dead?" Gimli asked.

"I am sorry." Eomer nodded. He turned and whistled. Averael put a hand to her mouth and lowered it to her chest, grief stricken. She felt a comforting arm around her for a moment, and didn't need to turn to know it was Aragorn. 

"Hasufel! Arod! Ramir!" Eomer called three horses to him. Three horses approached. "May these horses bid you better fortune than their former masters." He said, handing the reins to them.

He mounted his horse and replaced his helmet on his head. "Farewell. Look for your friends. But do no trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands." He turned his horse. "To the north!" He commanded, and they rode off. Averael watched as the horses departed, then mounted the dark brown horse named Ramir. She rode towards the smoke alongside Aragorn who was riding Hasufel, and Legolas and Gimli, on Arod. Though hope had forsaken the land, she hoped with all her heart Merry and Pippin were not dead.