REVISED CHAPTER!

Disclaimer – I own nothing of Tolkiens! Anything you recognized from his work belongs to him.
 
A/N – This is a story I wrote for an ‘assignment’ for the Rohan Cavalry Training on the LOTR Fanatics Plaza. The assignment was – You’re riding around the Western borders of the kingdom with a contingent numbering 35 when you are suddenly ambushed by an unseen force, using arrows for the most part. How will you arrange your defense and overcome the obviously larger number attacking you?
So, enjoy the story! And by the way, modigfæmne is Old English for ‘courageous maiden’.

 
Modigfæmne
 
The day was dawning as the camp began to stir, the Sperewigends beginning their assigned duties. Some were cooking the morning meal, others packing up as the sun’s first light peeked over the horizon. Since I was the only female Sperewigend, and since everybody assumes that women are the best chefs, yours truly was in charge of the meal. Fortunately, for the camp, they assumed right in my case. I can cook, but I hate cooking for thirty-five. Looking up from the porridge I was stirring, my gaze fell on the command tent, which would be the last thing to be packed up. The Pæthfindians had just come in to report from their morning rounds, so all the commanders were gathered there. I felt a chill go down my spine as I watched them . . . something was going to happen. I could feel it.

It was several hours later, and we were riding alongside the Isen river. We could see Isengard far off in the distance, and I wondered if the rumors of Uruk-Hai still wandering the plains and hills were true. I hoped not. I looked up as the Marshal brought the group to a halt. Turning to face us, he told us the news the Pæthfindians had brought that morning – some small bands of Uruk-Hai had been spotted in the Gap of Rohan, riding towards Isengard. My worst fears had just been confirmed. We were going to try to find them – hopefully without them finding us.

We had been riding again for a few more hours, when we drew near to a group of trees. The horses began to act nervous, and I felt another chill go down my spine. Encouraging the horses, we moved forward. I thought I saw a movement in the trees, but after I looked closer, I thought I was mistaken. After what happened next, though, I realized I should have trusted my first instinct. Something flew past my ear, and I jerked my head away as I heard a moan behind me. Turning, I saw that a friend had been hit in the shoulder by a black arrow. It looked like the Uruk-Hai had found us. Responding to the commands the Marshal shouted out, we drew back out of range, and then gathered as the leaders discussed what would happen next. Finally, after a long discussion, they turned to face us again. “Who can swim?” was the first question the Marshal asked. There were many surprised faces. As I looked around, I saw no one else was going to answer. So, timidly, I raised my hand. “Come here,” the Marshal said. When I drew close, the Marshal asked me if I could shoot a bow and arrow. As I nodded my head, he told me the plan.

My breath left me quickly as I slipped into the Isen. With winter drawing near, the water had begun to have a bite to it. I had removed my armour, and was wearing a simple tunic and breeches, with a bow and quiver strapped to my back. We had had to unstring the bow for the swim, and the bowstring was in a waterproof pouch hung around my neck. Taking a deep breath, I went under the water, and began swimming upstream. The current wasn’t too strong, the river having dried up some from the summer. Coming up every little while for air, I listened for sounds that told me I was drawing near to the Uruks. There! I heard their hard breathing. Taking a quiet breath, I went back under the water, and swam as far as I could. When I was sure I was past the Uruk-Hai, I crawled up the bank and into the trees. Working as quickly as I could with chilled fingers, I restrung the bow, then strapped it to my back again. My fingers were no longer cold by the time I completed that job.

Going back the way I had come, I listened again for the sounds of the Uruks. When I could hear their breathing again, I climbed up into a tree as high as I could. “Find their archers, there shouldn’t be very many, and kill them off,” the Marshal had told me, “Then kill of their commander.” I knew I was going into possible death, and the Marshal had given me the choice of backing out, but I knew, deep down, that I had to go through with it.

Looking down, I saw that the Uruk-Hai had gathered in a clearing among the trees. Their archers were set further away though, to keep my people back. As I counted them, I knew I had just enough arrows to get them and their commander . . . there was no room for mistakes. I would also have to shoot fast, so they wouldn’t be able to find me. Drawing my first arrow from the quiver, I aimed carefully, and then shot. Perfect! They didn’t notice the first few archers, as I had chosen the ones set further out first, but as I drew nearer their gathering, I realized I would have to work even faster. There were only three archers left now, half of the original six. But as I killed the second one, they began to notice that something was wrong. The last archer moved just as I had my arrow aimed, and I had to wait until I could see him again. Unfortunately, he had moved into the clearing. Before I shot, I looked around for the commander, figuring his location. I let the arrow fly, and the last archer dropped dead. Drawing my last arrow quickly, I aimed and let it fly, just as the commander reached the body of the last archer. It hit him.

I watched as the Uruk-Hai went into frenzy, and poured out of the trees towards the Rohirrim, seeking revenge. From my vantage point, I could see the fighting going on, and watched as the Uruks were defeated, but with the cost of some of the lives of my friends. When I saw the last Uruk killed, I climbed down from the tree and hurried back. The Marshal saw me leave the trees and draw near. He met me halfway – his gaze clouded with tears for his fallen soldiers, and filled with pride for me. I blushed. Holding out his hand in gratitude, he said to me, “Well done.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. He started to turn away then, but I asked quickly, “Who did we lose?” Eadfrid turned back to me, his jaw clenched. “Alduini, Berðun, Gærswyrt, Aldwulf, Osred, Hengist,” he said. Tears rushed into my eyes. “Six . . .” I breathed. I knew them all, but not very well. My eyes slid shut, trying to keep the tears from falling. “Bredwyn,” I heard Eadfrid say to me at the same moment I felt his fingers lift my chin up. Opening my eyes, the tears still threatening to fall, I looked in the Marshal’s face. “Many are wounded,” he stated quietly, “Some will not live.” Confusion showed on my face. I knew that. The battle had been fierce. I didn’t understand why he was telling me the obvious until I saw the guarded look in his steel gray eyes. The tears fell. “Éomund?” I asked, but it was really more of a statement than a question. He nodded, looking away as a single tear fell down his face.

Turning away from him then, I headed back to the camp.