Rholarowyn’s feet traveled the well known path, yet when she came to the lone pine she paused. Thoughts in her mind were racing, looping back on themselves, replaying her past. Gondor, her father’s murder, the East, Boromir, Rohan, Culinar, sword fighting, traitors, capture, torment…then Gondor and it all would start over again. Quickly she turned down the other path, away from Joham’s house. A half mile away she finally came to the spot, her spot, isolated and near the snow fed creek. Once there she began climbing the boulder and sat down upon the cool granite surface. It was there under the clear night time sky dotted with millions of little lights the shieldmaiden pondered, evaluated, the significant choices she’d made during her life all bringing her to this moment.
Each one made sense at the time, yet here with only the rocks, trees, and stars as her witnesses she confessed how her heart was still filled with such anger, hatred, regret, anxiety, resentment, and bitterness. In the past it was easy, perhaps too easy, to know the enemy. Good was the right side and bad or evil was the side to be defeated. “When did the lines get blurred?” she asked aloud. “How did I become the enemy of my own people?” she cried out to no one.
Would others ever understand? Could she make them comprehend the extent of the horror of the East? Would they ever believe that there were some of the dark skinned race who were just as horrified by the behaviors and actions of their own race and they sought out change, no they sought out a revolution to ensure change. Lying back, she now looked up into the faces of the stars, closed her eyes, and deepened her breathing. Slowing each breath down until her body complied and began to relax. Relaxation soon gave into exhaustion and Rholarowyn felt the fatigue limping through out her entire body. She was so worn-out of fighting the external battles, but also drained of fighting the internals ones as well. Life in these lands would never be the same for her, the days would never be like those of her past. He must have known that when he sent her back with their son…
’ ”Rholarowyn, you have been true and have held my heart for all these years but now I must send you and Nayaran away, you must return to your homeland. It is no longer safe here with my people, not now, my time, it has come. Promise me you will do this.” He had placed his weak hand gently upon her face to comfort her. By the glow of the small warming fire she could see his pain growing and his spirit fading in his eyes. “Take my amulet.” He then whispered. “Please.” Never was a leader’s amulet to be removed by a woman, never was she to keep it in her possession; however, he too had been a man of vision and change for his people. Slowly, gently, she reached around his neck and removed the sacred item. “Please, wear it until Nayaran reaches his 12th year, then give it to him.” The shieldmaiden placed it gingerly in his bloodied hand and she gently clasped her hands around his. There the two remained until the last few breaths were becoming more shallow. Rholarowyn leaned forward and kissed him tenderly upon his cooling lips, knowing it would be their last.’
In the distance a lone wolf cried out, it was a warning cry that brought the woman back to the present evening. The cool dampness of the boulder had infused her, shivering, she quickly stood up and reached for the small lump still hanging from her neck. Leaving her private space by the brooke, it took a brisk walk back to towards the town to get her blood flowing again.
There was a gentle glow flickering through the window as the shieldmaiden approached Joham’s house. Carefully she pushed open the wooden door with her left shoulder lessening the slight groan that normally announced someone’s entrance. Once inside the town baker, who was studiously writing by lantern light, looked up to see a damp mess of a woman.
“What, happened to you?”
“Nothing.” Rholarowyn answered slower than normal as she propped her sword in the nearby corner and then removed her outer tunic. Moving towards the small fire she asked. “Where is Nayaran?”
His eyes continued to examine the woman. “Nayaran is with his friend in the back house, I thought it better they sleep here tonight.”
“Good!” she replied and then took a deep breath.
The man persisted. “Are you going to tell me?”
“I took a walk down near the creek. I got cold that is all.” She answered looking down upon the print neatly written upon the cream colored parchment. Joham strategically shifted some empty papers to cover up the last page. The woman moved away as Joham continued, “Malmiuta had some of the tea she made sent over. I was told it will help you to sleep.”
The woman turned toward the open chair and wearily she plunked herself down onto its hard surface. Reaching out for a mug and the clay pot she filled her cup to the top and faded back into the chair, “I need this.”
“Is THAT blood!” Joham quickly rose up to his feet and reached for her left arm. There mingled with the black fabric of her long sleeve under tunic was the clotting texture of drying blood next to a neatly sliced tear. “Rholarowyn were you attacked?”
“No Joham, I wasn’t attacked!” she wearily shot back. “Well not officially.”
His concern grew as the man quickly rolled up her sleeve exposing a three inch slash on the top of her upper forearm.
“Not officially?” Joham slowed, he did not like the look in her eyes. “If not officially then what!” Rholarowyn lowered her eyes not wanting to endure yet another battle. “Wait here!” The man finally commanded.
With her left arm now propped up upon the rustic eating table, Rholarowyn drank. The tea was cooler now and the taste was more pleasant than some of the other herb mixtures the wise women had made in the past. She easily drained the first cup and poured herself another. Just as she downed the second his voice called out again.
“Go slow with the tea, I was also told the dosage has been doubled,” Joham’s voice caution from the other room. Just as the woman placed the empty cup upon the table the man reentered.
“How many was that?”
She held up two fingers.
“Wonderful, you will sleep through to midday tomorrow.” Joham stated sarcastically but accurately. “Leave your arm there.” Rholarowyn complied and as he diligently cleaned out the wound with warm water and herbs. The tension between the two only grew until Rholarowyn finally confessed.
“I challenged Lienoril to a duel.”
“What?” The man’s eyes shot up from her arm. “Why? Where!?!”
“By the north end of the barn.” She answered with a mater of fact reply.
“Did you leave him there? Was he standing?”
“Yes Joham, he was standing. I did not kill the man.”
He starred at the shieldmaiden suppressing his disapproval. “Rholarowyn is there any particular reason you decided to challenge the man charged to your protection?”
“Because my test wasn’t finished and because was there.” She answered bluntly.
“He was there…” The man repeated dumbfounded, “...and where exactly was there, by the barn?”
“No Joham “there” was in his bed.”
“YOU were in the man’s bed!?!”
"No..." her voice grew wearier as she spoke. "I snuck into his room, THEN went to his bed. I pressed the tip of my blade up to his neck, and demanded that he finish my test!”
The baker continued to stare. “Rholarowyn you can’t…you shouldn’t be…” then he stopped noting her exhaustion and looked down flabbergasted. “You are going to need stitches.” Shaking his head he rose again. “Press on it with this.” There was a long pause before she heard his voice from the other room.
“Woman WHAT were you thinking?”
“It wasn’t that bad.” She attempted to yell back. “He’s a clean fighter and he didn’t pierce me with his sword when he clearly could have….well not intentionally.” After a quick self-examination of the angry wound she pressed the sterile fabric upon her lower arm. Odd that she didn’t feel the pain of it. It was several minutes before Joham returned armed with new supplies. He was as diligent as master craftsman working the skin gently, closing the wound, all the while muttering under his breath.
Once the wound was tightly closed he carefully washed the rest of her arm, wiped it with a healing salve, and covered it with a protective wrap. “That is all I can do for you tonight.” He looked toward the woman and saw the tea was taking affect. “Rholarowyn, go to bed.” The shieldmaiden stood up and wobbled slightly. There was a slight sorrow in her voice, “Thank you Joham…for everything,”
Not dismissing his frustration he waived her off knowing she’d sleep well into the day. When she had left Joham regrouped. Tucking the letter away in a safe place, he picked up the lantern and quietly headed out in search of Lienoril AND Earendil.
.