Girth & Hamrod
The stakes fell with that familiar clattering. Hamrod stood standing with open mouth.
“We’re what?” He asked in disbelief.
“You heard me.” Girth responded crossly. He had just come back from the hall with news of where to build the pig sty. However, there would be no pig sty.
“The lord says we’re to go back with the soldier’s to keep his house in Edoras with other servants.” Girth seated himself falling squarely on his bottom and threw his hat in frustration. Hamrod looked as if he was going to cry.
“Now don’t start bawling! This was too good to be true anyways.”
“But I made the stakes for the fence and everything. I was even getting friendly with some of the locals; they are not such bad people.”
Hamrod moaned and sat down next to Girth in the mud. The dog noticed something was wrong and started to whine, placed one paw on Hamrod’s chest and tried to give him a wet kiss. Things were beginning to look better after the travesty of the night before. Now this news destroyed everything. Hamrod buried his face in Dog’s neck.
“Did he give a reason?”
“Something about a military expedition and not wanting ‘peasants’ to get hurt. From what I can tell, the lord does not want us getting in his way. Understandable, we are expendable after all. Lord can always find new help here.”
“But why bring us all that way? I was beginning to like it here. Why tell us now?”
“Cause, that’s why! Because he can!” said Girth angrily. Hamrod started crying now and held Dog tighter.
When Girth saw Hamrod crying he regretted speaking so bitterly. Hamrod might be a simpleton sometimes but he was the only man that Girth could call a friend.
“Don’t cry lad.” Girth said as he put his arm around the boys shoulder. “At least we are going back together. Athanar could have split us up, did you ever think of that?”
“No.” Hamrod wiped his nose and rubbed his eyes.
“Well then, we have something to be thankful for.”
The two pig farmers sat gazing up at the sky for a long while. Hamrod broke the silence.
“Do you think we’ll ever be free, Girth?”
“How mean you?”
“You know, it’s what our parents dreamed about, and their parents and their parents.” Hamrod’s eyes went misty. “Think about it Girth: no lord to order you around as if you were his cattle. Maybe even a place of your own.”
“Sounds all good in words, but a free life is harder than a servant’s life and that’s the truth.”
“Aye, but you’d be your own master and that’s worth everything. Oh promise me one thing Girth!”
“What’s that?”
“Before ten years is out, we pinch and save enough money to buy both our services from lord Athanar and if he refuses us, we run away.”
“What?” Girth yelled in surprise. “But where would go? How would we eat? We’ll be hunted you know. Athanar will cut out our bowels while we are still breathing.”
“Is life so dear with your lord that you would purchase it at the price of your freedom?”
The question rocked Girth for a moment. He paused to think before answering.
“No, I guess not.”
“Give me your word, Girth! In ten years time freedom will be ours.”
“I’m with you Hamrod. You have my word. And if Dog is still kicking we’ll take him with us!”
Dog barked and leapt back when he saw Girth laugh and through him a stick. Both friends stayed awake long after midnight discussing on how the money would be raised, where they would live, how they would live, and what the best escape route would be if Athanar refused them. Ten years later, Girth and Hamrod got their freedom; though, nobody knows whether Athanar consented or not. Eager with their new freedom or anxious to escape before anything was suspected, Girth and Hamrod disappeared from Edoras one night and were never heard of again. I suspect that they are probably still living, on the borders of a wood next to a smooth running river—Girth always said those were the best places for raising a pig.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erbrand & Lithor
Nobody called him to work on the hall and Erbrand was glad of it. Athanar was probably still getting adjusted in his new home and would not be situated until the marrow. The hall was almost done. Stigend needed to be on hand of course to make sure things went properly and Erbrand had not seen him all day. Maybe Athanar is discussing with him on how he wants the hall built. Doesn’t matter, there was enough work of his own that needed finishing.
With his thoughts turning away from his work at the hall and back to his present task, Erbrand tossed another animal hide into the boiling cauldron and pushed it under with a pole. Grease splattered his grimy apron, but not enough to burn him badly. Another hide was tossed into a pit filled with water and pushed under the sludgy surface. More hides were hammered down with stakes to dry and stretch in the sun. The whole area stunk. People always complained about how badly he smelled, but he was just doing his job.
Erbrand did not mind the stink, he grew up with it. Dead things stink! It is the will of Eru, and tanners make good money. Erbrand did not mind the work: digging the pits, grinding the oak bark, smearing the hides with dung. All of this was not done in Scarburg itself, next to his hut; rather, down by the marsh where the ground was solid yet wet enough for the earth to yield water when a pit was dug.
Back in Aldeburg, Erbrand and his father would be laughed at for smelling so bad, but they were not scorned. There were many craftsmen in the city and all found someone to their liking. Tanners and leather craftsmen were well respected people and very rich. They were rich because they worked hard and their items were needed for every aspect of day to day life. Even though Erbrand and his father were rich, they did not show it. Father always said that flaunting wealth on comfortable living and extravagant clothes could ruin a man and destroy his respect from the other craftsmen. Erbrand could still remember those witty tavern songs about city life. Suddenly he began to sing:
“Father is the miller
as was his father of old,
and I shall be the miller
when my father’s flesh is cold
“I know the family business,
it’s been drummed into my head
How to cheat the wealthy customer,
and earn my daily bread
“Ohhhh the sky makes the water,
and the water makes the river,
and the river turns the mill wheel,
and the wheel goes on forever
“Every man’s a cheater,
and so every man is fed,
for we feed upon each other,
and seek our daily bread
“My father is a hard man, muscular and stout
He swings a heavy cudgel whenever he walks out
My grandfather was like him, a man of gain and sin
They find him in the mill pond with his skull bashed in
“Ohhhh the sky makes the water,
and the water makes the river,
and the river turns the mill wheel,
and the wheel goes on forever
“I used to wonder why the peasants hated us so strong,
they think we pick their pockets, and they’re not far wrong
Flour in the flour sack, vermin in the flour,
peasants waiting at the mill hour after hour
“They curse us as they stand in line,
enjoy their little talk
One by one my father grinds their flour,
and replaces all with chalk
“Ohhhh the sky makes the water,
and the water makes the river,
and the river turns the mill wheel,
and the wheel goes on forever
“When you think about the matter,
it’s as good as any sermon,
for the vermin feeds the miller,
and the miller feeds the vermin
“When I was only four years old,
still babyish and unsteady,
I tried to play with common folk,
they hated me already
“I am my father’s son,
my father serves the lord,
one day I’ll show them
hating me is a thing they can’t afford
“Ohhhh the sky makes the water,
and the water makes the river,
and the river turns the mill wheel,
and the wheel goes on forever
“There’s no use in looking back,
for here’s the truth I found:
it’s hunger, want, and wickedness,
these make the world go round
“For every man is a sinner
and he wants his neighbor’s grain,
the peasant moves the boundary stone
and steals the lord’s domain
“The miller steals the flower,
and the baker steals the bread,
we are hypocrites and liars
and we all get fed
“And half the world’s thieving
and the other half’s yearning,
there is no way to retrace our steps
the mill wheel keeps on turning
“For the sky makes the water,
and the water makes the river,
and the river turns the mill wheel,
and the wheel goes on forever
Work is work. I like bread in my belly and ale in my cup and I work harder than many to get it. I do mind the sneering of the soldier’s. Sometimes their tongues could scrape the hair off a hide. And I mind the women nattering on; saying that I fowl the waters. Egads! Do they think I can make leather without filth? Lime, cow dung, oak gall, urine, ash, tallow, and stale beer, these are the tools of my trade.
Erbrand noticed some ladies fetching water from the stream that flowed into the marsh. The women were upstream and there was no worry about Erbrand polluting anything other than swamp water; however, it did not take long for Erbrand to find out their opinions of his revolting work. They sniffed the air and covered their noses. He could hear them exchanging some remarks and one of them was laughing. Erbrand could not stand being scorned at and his work being so unappreciated. In a rage he threw down his pole and angrily marched to where they were gathering water. They were not alone—there was a man with them. The two women were Ginna and Frodides and the man was a soldier, apparently ordered to help the two ladies and not enjoying his job.
The soldier looked up, grimaced and gave a snort. “Phhew! I came for drinking water, but looks like you came for a bath. ” Erbrand felt his rage rekindled.
“And who in tarnation are you to scorn me?” Erbrand bellowed. “Would you warm your hands in leather gloves? Saddle or bridle your horse? Do you dance to the sound of the drum or lace the chords of your armor? What about the bellows that heats the forge? It’s leather! Stinking leather. Do you want good shoes or do you not? Shall I create padding for the lord’s chairs? I hunt and trap for animals and I feed Scarburg with their meat and give people tools that make it possible for them to do their jobs. Why then do you scorn me?”
The soldier simply stared at him. Frodides and Ginna were doing the same although they were a bit more surprised at the outburst. Erbrand let out a long breath before finishing in a calmer yet sill annoyed voice.
“Now, let me get on with my scraper and dung, you hold your nostrils and hold your tongues.” Erbrand turned to leave when a pebble hit him in the back.
“Hey, tanner, watch your tongue.”
“I’m not in the mood today, soldier.” Erbrand said with particular emphasized scorn on the word soldier.
“Name’s Scyrr. And looks like you need to be taught some manners for your betters.”
That was all the provocation Erbrand needed. He spun round and with a mighty yell ran at the Scyrr. The soldier, however, expected this struck a sidelong blow sending Erbrand spinning but not falling. Frodides and Ginna yelled at the two to stop. Blood was spilt, it was too late as Erbrand made apparent as he untied his leather apron and tossed it aside. There was a wild gleam in Erbrand’s eyes as he rushed again. He leaped, hoping to tackle Scyrr, but the swarthy soldier stepped aside. Scyrr laughed as Erbrand spat tufts of mossy grass from his mouth.
"Hope you learnt your lesson, tanner."
Another exclamation of rage escaped Erbrand’s lips. Again and again Erbrand was struck down until his nose was bleeding and his gums were cut. For the fifth time Erbrand arose, sagging, bleeding and weary. Scyrr had been unhurt, keeping Erbrand at bay with ease.
“Do you still wish to continue?” Scyrr asked, smiling.
Again Erbrand rushed at him in rage. Again the soldier stepped aside, tripping Erbrand.
“Enough! Stop this nonsense!” Frodides exclaimed.
The soldier regarded the woman and turned back to Erbrand giving him a kick on the calf. It was not hard, nor was it gentle, but it was enough to excite an anger that surpassed any that Erbrand had known up to that time. Such was the treatment one gave a disobedient dog.
“I’m done - for today”, Scyrr said.
Whether Scyrr said this to frighten Erbrand or whether he said it because it was true, Erbrand never found out. In a fight anger is as good as courage. With fingers extended like talons, Erbrand’s hands seized Scyrr’s left leg with an iron grip and twisted it. The soldier gave a howl and collapsed next to Erbrand (who lost no time in returning Scyrr’s punishment blow for blow). This time Ginna took up the chorus with Frodides.
“Stop it! Fools. Before somebody gets hurt badly!”
The cry was not heeded. A knife flashed in the sunlight, it was Scyrr’s.
"Get off my leg or I'll sting you with this!" the soldier growled.
Erbrand struck relentlessly and hard. Soon he found his fingers around Scyrr’s neck, pressing harder and tighter.
“I am not some dog you can kick. I am a man! I am a man!”
Soft small hands grasped his and beat his strong shoulders. Erbrand let go of Scyrr’s throat. Ginna and Frodides knelt beside the Scyrr. He was not moving.
“Fools!” Frodides cursed.
Ginna's face was pale when she tried to find his pulse. “If he's dead ... Erbrand, if he's dead, you will hang for this.”
Fear took hold were anger had once been. Erbrand fled back to the camp faster than any stag. He flung the door of his hut open and began digging. The fear had taken hold of his mind. Erbrand was digging for his saddle bag that he had brought with him all the way from Aldeburg. It contained all of his life’s wealth, modest for city life but wealthy for Scarburg. Tanners made good money. A heavy jingle met his ears as he shook the bag and a fleeting smile quickly passed his lips. Then he went for his bow, his arrows, cowl, hood, knife, hatchet—all the necessary items he needed and fled as fast as he could to the stables. Soldiers were everywhere meeting Erbrand’s gaze, turning to peer at his fear stricken face as he paced. They were leading their horses for the drills. Erbrand felt his heart sink there was no way he could hide his secret. Did they know? No, he had been too fast—Erbrand had always been fast. There was his horse, Traveler, the great beast bigger than the other horses: white, young, and eager for a trot. Thank goodness Leof the stable boy had not taken the horses out. Traveler would need the energy.
“Erbrand?” came a familiar voice. It was Lithor. The greybeard was leading his horse last in line. The soldier’s face showed concern.
“Is everything alright?” he asked again.
“Leave me quickly.” Erbrand said. His eyes were wide his mouth was open and releasing quick shaky breaths.
“Your face tells me to do the exact opposite. What happened to it” Lithor slung the reigns of his horse over a paddock and came closer.
“Don’t touch me! I said leave.”
“You are not well Erbrand.”
“I am damned!”
“What mean you by this? What fear prompts such speech?”
“You don’t understand.” Erbrand threw a blanket on Traveler’s back and reached for the saddle.
Lithor put up a hand and motioned for Erbrand to calm himself. “Erbrand, tell me…”
“I have killed Athanar’s guard!” Erbrand shrieked in desperation to get rid of Lithor.
Lithor stared wide eyed and open mouthed. The silence hung heavy in the air. Lithor frantically looked around to see if anyone was in ear shot—nobody was.
“How did this happen? When, where?” Lithor asked.
“I did not mean to hurt him so bad.” Erbrand sounded as if he was going to cry. The realization of his terrible deed rocked him. “I did not kill him, only hurt him. He was still breathing. You see we…I mean I was working and, well…it all happened so fast. He scorned, then I rebuked him, stones thrown, I swung. He kicked me like a dog. I got carried away and nearly choked him to death. I think I sprained his leg badly, maybe even broke it.” The tears now flowed, but Erbrand did not weep.
“I was wrong, Lithor. Athanar will not hesitate to flog or hang me.”
Erbrand crashed to the ground. Lithor kneeled and gently lifted Erbrand back up. The old man’s eyes were patient and friendly.
“It was a foolish act.” Lithor said. “I have seen you start fights for less. Yet, I have never seen you start a fight where both parties did not deserve a good beating.” Lithor calmly looked at Traveler and back at Erbrand.
“Where would you head? You can’t go back to your home of Aldeburg. That will be the first place that Athanar will search for you.”
“Then I must leave Rohan,” Erbrand was now composed. His voice was both somber and thoughtful. “Not to the south. Saeryn’s brother Degas has lands there and Athanar ask him to search for me. It will have to be to the north, out of Rohan where no one will search for me. Arnor.” The words escaped Erbrand’s lips as if the name was deserving of reverence.
“It will be a new land and culture to be sure, but getting there is the problem. I’ll probably be hunted down and killed long before I cross the Isen.”
“Have you thought about facing Athanar and accepting the consequences?” Lithor asked.
“There was a time I could do it,” Erbrand said thoughtfully, “when Eodwine ruled. I would not run if Saeryn or Thornden ruled, they are just, but I will not accept punishment from a tyrant. I will not be wronged again.”
“Again?” Lithor asked surprised.
“I spent two years in the gaols of Aldeburg for no other reason than the will of men such as Athanar: impatient and arrogant for their will to be carried out. I will not accept his judgment.” Erbrand was resolute in his speech and his eyes reflected hardness in his heart.
“Then, this is goodbye, my young friend.” Lithor voice was hopeful, but Erbrand felt like crying again.
“I will miss you, dear friend. You have taught me much and have been my closest mentor. Would it be that you could come with me.” Erbrand bowed his head in sorrow. “But I know you cannot: your duties lie here.”
There was nothing left to be said. They clasped each other in a hug of memories and quickly left. Lithor led his horse outside to the drilling grounds and Erbrand raced to the Great Hall—there were still goodbyes to be said. Erbrand dashed into the kitchen nobody was there but Kara. She noticed him and gave a surprised yelp when she saw his face. She hastened to him.
“Erbrand what happened to you?”
“Oh my love!” Erbrand said almost in joy. Kara was startled, he had never called her that before.
Erbrand quickly retold his story to her and of his intention to ride north.
“Oh Erbrand!” Kara said. “Can’t it wait? Can’t you stay to think it over?”
“If I stay, I die. I must flee. I have come to ask if you will come.” His eyes were hopeful and he held her hand when he said this. There was a short pause.
“Oh Erbrand.” Her voice was sad and tears welled up in her eyes. “You came to Scarburg of your own free will and are therefore free to leave at your will. I am bound to the house of Eodwine. I must stay and serve him and his lady.”
“I love you, Kara. You will never have to serve anyone again while you live with me. We will start a new life, a fresh life together.”
“I will not abandon Saeryn, especially when she has a child on the way.”
Kara was not looking at Erbrand anymore. Her eyes were focused in her lap. Erbrand could hear the drip of the tears hitting her dress. He could not say anything to refuter her. It was painful and against both their wills that they should be separated, but their destinies did not go down the same road. Erbrand grasped her in a longing embrace. Both sobbed—Erbrand had never sobbed in his life. The tears flowed in streams and the sobs rocked his body.
“I am weeping.” Erbrand cried. “I could not weep until now. ‘I love you more than life itself’ isn’t that what I said to you the night of Eodwine’s wedding.”
“Yes, yes.” Kara had not yet finished crying.
“Well now at last it’s true. I will stay and face Athanar’s judgment.”
“No!” Kara looked at him frightened. “You must not stay for my sake. What comfort would it be for me to see you beaten when your reason for staying is because of me? My comfort will be in the memories of us.” Again they embraced each other.
“One more day, one more day with you and I would be satisfied.”
“Yes my love, but I know what it would do,” Erbrand held her hands tightly. “Leave me wishing still for one more day, always one more day. There is something I need to give you before I go. Do you remember this? It is the ring that the hermit gave to us on Eodwine’s wedding night. He said I would need it. All I am, all I’ll be, everything in this world is in your eyes. When you smile I can feel all my passions unfolding. Kara, for the rest of my life I will cherish you. I have waited so long to say this to you—if you wonder if I love you this much,” Erbrand slipped the ring on Kara’s index finger, “I do.”
“Stop it!” Kara slapped him. She began crying again. “You are making this difficult. You must go.” Kara composed herself and looked Erbrand in the eye. Erbrand still had to finish his thought.
“Kara, if it is your wish that I should leave…”
“You know the reason why I wish it, Erbrand.”
“Then I shall go, but before I do hear me out. In my world before you I lived outside my emotions, not knowing where I was going until that day I found you. Oh! how you opened my life to a new paradise. Will all my heart until my dying day, I will cherish you and never marry.”
Erbrand kissed her and then tore himself away to her pleas of “I will never forget you. Go, go, quickly!” That parting was the hardest. Erbrand still felt the urge to stay, and would have if Kara had wished it. On his way out, he passed Harreld, Javan, Crabannan, Dan, and lady Saeryn. All these were his friends, but the last two he stopped to say goodbye to. They were confused and questioned him about it, but he did not stay to answer them. When Erbrand exited the hall, he saw Ginna and Frodides helping Scyld back they had just entered camp and people were coming to see what happened. Erbrand ran to the stables where he had left Traveler and his belongings. When he entered, Traveler was standing out of his stall with a blanket over his back and Erbrand’s belongings tightly wrapped in a bedroll that one could sling over one’s shoulder. Lithor was removing the saddle from his horse.
“Lithor, the soldier’s are still drilling outside. You’d better get to them, quick.” Erbrand rushed in and swung the bedroll with his belongings and saddle bag (which contained his money) across his chest.
“Unfortunately my horse has a limp and cannot ride.” Lithor responded in a cool unconcerned manner, paying no head to Erbrand’s urgentness. Erbrand grabbed his saddle and was about to throw it onTraveler when Lithor stopped him.
“If chase if given, you will need to ride light.”
There was a tone in Lithor’s voice that made Erbrand wonder. Then Lithor gave that familiar smile and Erbrand knew.
“You are coming with me.” Erbrand said with joy.
“I am too old to be a soldier, Athanar proved that for me. There is nothing to keep me here; I would be much happier with you in Arnor, my friend.” With that said Lithor sprang onto his horse with all the spryness of an elf.
“What of your horse’s limp?” Erbrand asked.
Lithor laughed and held up a small pebble. “I placed this in his hoof so I could bring my horse to the stables without being noticed. Now," Lithor grabbed the reigns and held them tightly. "We must ride hard all day and well into the night if we are to be safe from a chase. The soldiers will be still drilling so there will be some confusion if they are to give chase. After you good, Erbrand, let's ride! For the the north."
Erbrand mounted Traveler and both men sped out of the stables. As they left, Lithor paused for a moment to see the soldier’s in drill. Erbrand looked back and saw that Thornden was looking at Lithor. The old man looked sad, but only for a moment. Lithor drew himself up in the saddle and saluted his commander for the last time; then, he drew his sword and tossed it to the ground—Lithor would have no more use for it. With light hearts, the riders sped across the scar and into the open plain, heading north with all possible speed. Who can say what sudden impulse got into their hearts. What adventures that await them none can say, nor can it be said that they even lived to see their desired destination. My guess is that they did succeed in reaching the far north; though, I cannot say for certain, for I know nothing of their actions after their leaving of Scarburg. But theirs were souls that thrived on adventure and sought strength from each other and such men find ways when all paths seemed blocked. However, if they did make it to Arnor, I suspect that you will find them roaming about the shores of Midgewater, living contently among the Breelanders. Who knows, perhaps they might pay a call on onetime residence of Scarburg, Falco Boffin. Both will probably spend much time over the ale cup with him.
Of Scarburg and its inhabitants I can speak no more of. I suspect, however, that life continued much as it had before with its unexpected revelries and gaiety, troubles and predicaments. Those days will forever be a source of blissful memories for the two friends. For all who lived there, one can only hope that Lithor and Erbrand will be remembered. Their part in this tale is finished.