Anglachel dismounted and, thrusting his long knife into the earth, knelt next to the body of Hading. Finding the great sword of Hading in the grass nearby, he wiped it clean before carefully placing back into the warrior’s grasp. He then folded his arms onto his chest in the traditional manner for one who has fallen in battle.
Bowing his head while still on one knee, Anglachel contemplated the appropriate words for such a bleak occasion. After a few moments, he composed one or two lines in his mind that sounded fitting for a soldier of Rohan.
“Though we have lost a valiant member of our company,” spoke Anglachel slowly yet clearly so that everyone could hear, “we should not mourn for him beyond this moment that we now share, for a warrior that dies in battle has fulfilled his duty. Needless is not the death that comes from sacrifice and courage. The bravery of Hading has allowed those of us who remain to continue our quest. We must not linger overly long in sadness when our goal is yet unachieved. Hading now rides in the sunny fields amongst his ancestors, so mourn no longer, his worries are forever gone.”
After a few moments of silence, he rose and sheathed his long knife. Following a quick survey of the damage and loss, he spoke briefly with the others to arrange a burial for Hading and hasty retrieval of whatever goods they could gather in a short time. The thieves were increasing the distance between them every minute they delayed. Time was not on their side.
Anglachel looked around at the faces of the other riders expecting to see despair, yet all that he could read in the eyes of his colleagues was resolve. This group has a strong will, he thought to himself, these few do much to inspire hope. He allowed this thought to linger for a moment before turning to the task of laying Hading to rest.
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