Save the Past. Chapter Seven of Many.. - Can Tari prevent what happened in the past to save her future?
Eärédien had just finished saddling her horse when she heard the Hobbits walk over to her. "Good, all four of you are here. Let's go. We do not have much time to waste,"
She quickly helped them into the saddles and gave the reins to Frodo as Sam wrapped his arms around him. Eärédien quickly made sure that Merry and Pippin were on the back of their mount and told them to head towards the gate; she'll be right back.
She rushed to where the stable hand was and spoke with him. Pippin had looked back to see her speaking with the stable hand before placing a small bag in his hand and then leaping upon the back of her horse and galloped towards them. They went through the gate and headed down the path.
"Eärédien, how long do we take this path till we go off it?" asked Frodo.
"Not too long, Frodo," Eärédien stated, as they went a few miles away from Bree and went into the wilds where the horses quickly started to get faster with their pace.
They threaded their way through the Midgewater Marshes, a few places Eärédien and the others stopped several times to get one of the horses unstuck; the sun was now low in the sky when they finally emerged onto solid ground. The horses moved into a gallop over the grassy plains as if glad to be free of the festering swamp.
The horses started to fly over the green grass of the plains. Eärédien halted them as she listened to the wind; she turned in her saddle and waved them over. "Look," she whispered, as she pointed towards many beasts on the plains.
"What are they?" whispered Merry.
"They are the wild horses of Rohan. These herds of horses roam freely over all the plain land and there are times when some have found them in the mountain region. The horse lords of Rohan corral them once every three spring to collect the yearlings to become the mounts of the riders of Rohan. Occasionally, they will release their best stallions and allow them to breed with the mares to get a better foal out of them. They, then catch the foal after the mare has weaned the foal. Quite remarkable that the herds do not fear them and flee when they come." Eärédien stated, as they watched the herds gallop around the area before going over the far hill.
They started to gallop over where the horses were once grazing at. It was nearly dark when they neared a place where they were going to stop for the night. Away in the distance eastward they could now see a line of hills. The highest of them was at the right of the line and a little separated from the others. It had a conical top, slightly flattened at the summit. Frodo knew where they were as they neared Weathertop, where he was stabbed at by the witch king of the Nazgul. His hand went to his wound instinctively as he closed his eyes.
"Frodo, are you well? Should we stop here?" asked a voice from his left.
Frodo opened his eyes and looked up to see Eärédien staring at him. "No, I am fine. I was stabbed there." He pointed towards Weathertop.
"Then we shall not linger here," Eärédien said. "Let us continue on so that by nightfall we are as far from here as possible." They urged their horses into a faster pace.