The Daystar was setting in the West when Coleman finally crested the last hill separating him from Aldburg. The lay of the land had tricked him. When he’d glimpsed the town through the morning mist he’d though that it would take him no more than a couple of hours to reach it. Instead, he had spent the entire day following the meandering path as it winded through the countryside. Cole wasn’t surprised at this point - it was yet another stark reminder that he was way in over his head. [i]You’ve gone and done it now, Cole![/i] - he could almost hear his mother’s words and, for once, he was in complete agreement. The time for turning back had long since past, however. 

He dismounted from the chestnut mare with a wince and took the reins in hand, leading it towards the gates looming before him. Like most untrained riders, Cole had assumed that spending days in the saddle couldn’t possibly be [i]that[/i] hard. The harsh truth had been revealed to him the very next morning after he had acquired the horse. His thighs has been throbbing so much that he could barley muster the strength to stand up and relieve himself. Cole was never a man to shy away from adversity and so over these past few weeks he had willed himself to get in that saddle no matter how much it hurt. He’d made progress and could now direct the beast in a given direction successfully most of the time, the fear of falling off had also faded. [i]Wish I could say the same thing about this damned pain…[/i]

A feathered bed was the only image occupying Cole’s mind as he made the last few strides towards the wooden palisade circling Aldburg. Well, that and a growing sense of disappointment, which he tried to suppress. The lands of the horse-lords were all that he had imagined and more, true enough, especially the horses! He’d always thought that old Ferny had a huge number of them in his farm north of Bree, but this…this was something else entirely. For days now he’d seen thousands of the animals grazing in the lush fields and was starting to suspect that there more horses in these lands than there were people. 

Despite all that he had hoped that Aldburg would be somewhat more majestic, like those cities in the tales. Its walls seemed strong and the growing number of lights illuminating the darkening town pointed at a large number of inhabitants, but when all was said and done, a town like this would not appear out of place in Bree-land. Bree had a lot more stone houses for one and he was starting to doubt that the local taverns would be able to rival the hospitality of the Prancing Pony. 

Cole drew up to a pair of guards, who moved to block his way. Now, these men were not something he would see in the land of his birth. They were armed with spears and had swords at their hips, their bodies were covered in chain and shields were slung across their backs. Fair eyes and hair were half-hidden beneath their helms, but all it took was a glance to notice their grim, hard features. [i]Real warriors[/i], not like Captain Thistlewool with his beer-gut back home. Tall and proud they stood, towering over Cole.

“What brings you here, stranger?” one of them asked in a mangled form of the Common Speech. 

“A letter” Cole took the parchment from a pocket and lifted it up before the guard. 

The guard, an older man, took the letter from Cole with his rough hands and examined it. Cole suspected that the man couldn’t read, especially since it was written in Westron, but he made a valiant effort. Eventually he returned it and narrowed his eyes at Cole. 

“And where do you hail from?” he asked “You do not strike me as a son of Gondor and speak like no man I’ve ever met.” 

“From the north,” Cole told them, “I received the King’s message and travelled south by the Greenway, before passing through the land of hills and valleys, which you call Dunland.” 

The older guard nodded at his companion. 

“Take him to Leofric.” 

Cole followed the younger man into the city without uttering a word. Sometimes it was better to keep one’s mouth shut. As they walked up the dirt road leading to the castle on the hill Cole’s eyes darted back and forth, taking in all that they could. From what he’d heard and seen, it became apparent that Rohan was a young kingdom and so was Aldburg. The simple houses of the locals were recently built and the smell of freshly-cut wood was prevalent everywhere. People, tall and blonde-haired like the guards, went about their chores and paid him little heed. All around them he could hear the sounds of life – a child’s laughter, a woman arguing with her husband, the smith’s measured strikes and the ever-present neighing of horses. Aldburg seemed a vibrant town, something which Bree could never boast of being. 

It didn’t take them long to reach an imposing gatehouse, manned by gold-haired warriors with polished helms and stony eyes. They passed under the gates and into the courtyard of the King’s hall where another man stood waiting. Like the rest of the soldiers, he had an imposing figure and scars hiding under his greying beard. Cole’s eyes were drawn to white horse that adorned his green surcoat, a mark which was worn by the rest of the guards here he now realised. These were no doubt the King’s Men, he thought, suppressing a shiver. And the old fellow was no doubt a [i]noble[/i]. Cole had never seen a man of such high lineage in all his life! 

“So you are the ranger that the Lord of the Éothéod summoned?” the man’s low voice pulled him back to the present.

“Aye, that I am.” 

It was an outright lie, but he hoped it didn’t show on his face.  

“I find that strange,” the noble responded slowly. Compared to the other guards his words were almost comprehensible “for we were told to await the coming of a grey-eyed man, tall of stature and with black hair.” 

Cole did his best to keep his mouth from dropping. That was the exact description of the dead man he had come across a day’s travel south of Bree! How could they have known? He was certain that whoever had sent the message was not familiar with the man’s features.  

“I have the letter, here…” Cole began, trying to keep his voice from falling,

Leofric snatched the paper and gave it a quick glance, as if he knew what was written there. Come to think of it, it was very likely that he did – another thing which Cole had managed to overlook. 

“Yes, I know of this letter and that is what concerns me.” In a few quick strides he got close to Cole, his voice taking on a threatening edge “How did a vagabond like you come across it?” 

Suddenly a pair of guards moved up behind him and caught him by the arms. One of them kicked the legs from under him and they pushed him towards the dusty ground. 

“Th-they sent me!” he tried to explain “The Rangers couldn’t spare the men, so they sent me instead! I-“ he broke off as one of the men forcefully twisted his shoulder, producing a sharp cry, followed by a sullen silence. 

The captain of these men, for that is what he must have been, paced quietly, moving up to inspect Cole’s mare. 

“Béma!” he exclaimed “What have you done to this animal? Have your kin no knowledge of how to treat a horse?!” 

“I…found her on the road. I am no rider…” another lie, well at least the part about not being a rider was true. 

“We see” one of the guards managed to say in Westron, struggling to form the words correctly. A roar of laughter followed, before their leader silenced them. 

“Perhaps what you say is true,” the greying man spoke after a while, “Perhaps it is not. Eorl has strange guests of late and I fear that not all of you are to be trusted. Either way, it is not for me to decide.” 

He then said something to his men in the stern language of the horse-lords. They hoisted Cole like a sack and began half-dragging, half-pulling him towards the stone keep. As he expected, they brought him to the dungeons and not the comfortable room he had been imagining less than an hour ago. Nothing had gone as planned and this was the greatest setback he had suffered so far. On the bright side, at least he had finally arrived. 

Cole tried to exchange words with his two captors, but apart from a curt reply in Rohirric he received nothing else. A strange language these people had, the scholar in Cole noted, some of the sounds were so familiar, but they were arranged in such a way that made no sense to his mind.  Not long after he found himself shoved into a cell and had to surrender his equipment, namely his weapons, though they allowed him to keep his clothes at least.  

One of the guards returned after some time with a bowl of soup, yesterday’s bread and a battered wooden cup filled with water. He threw Cole a blanket afterwards, then told him to await the coming of dawn when he would meet the King. Cole heard the distant sound of a closing door and was left in the silence of the darkened dungeon. There didn’t seem to be any other prisoners from what he could see, though he couldn’t see much admittedly - the only illumination came in the form of a thin shaft of moonlight shining from a window high on the wall of his cell. 

[i]Come on, Cole…it’s not that bad. You have a bed and food, and they even threw in some water![/i] 

Eating his food in silence, he charted the long journey which had taken him here. Many long weeks had been spent on the road and his secret constantly weighed him down. Now the very first men he met had revealed that secret in a manner of moments. It made him feel both humiliated and angry at the same time! Why had he spent so many hours and sleepless nights worrying over it? 

When he was done with his meagre supper Cole made himself comfortable on the cot located next to the cold wall. The blanket had the distinctive smell of horse, which was present everywhere in Aldburg, but it was warm and would do for the night. The cot itself was quite comfy as well. After what seemed like an Age spent sleeping under the stars it felt better than his bed at home.

Exhaustion set in almost instantly and before long any thoughts of Eorl or his mysterious summons were cast aside and replaced by the calmness of sleep.