Part 16

“So he’s the Reeve of Newhome now, is he?” said Ma Everill, disparagingly. “I knew Baranor son of Barathor when he was nowt but a snotty-nosed toddler in torn britches. He didn’t have the balls for a scrap then and he doesn’t now.”

“But his men do,” said Eowyn, glancing at Belecthor. “Let us at least take Arador out to the Forest Road, so that the Reeve can see that his son is unharmed.”

“Why’re you so worried about me and my boys, sweetheart?”

Eowyn hesitated. “I am worried about Arador,” she admitted. “My husband and I were responsible for his safety...”

“Ahhh.”

“But, now that I have met you,” Eowyn continued, “I do not believe you intend to harm him, so—”

“First impressions can be deceptive,” said Ma, with a hint of steel in her voice that took Eowyn by surprise—and left her wrong-footed a second time.

“I do not understand you,” she confessed. “And I have no idea what you are doing. Out there, I mean...” She waved a hand to indicate the mine and all the work taking place in the valley.

“No, well, I can’t say I’m surprised at that,” said Ma. “It’s obvious that you’ve never washed your own smalls.”

“Never washed... My shift?” Eowyn was more baffled than ever. “What is it that you are making out there? Why is it killing the forest? And why did you take Arador? If it was for ransom, why did you send no demand to his father?”

“Ransom?” said Ma, laughing.

“Then you only took him to keep your secret safe?” Eowyn probed.

“Look, sweetheart—”

The door flew open. “Ma,” cried one of her sons, “soldiers are coming!”

...

Ma crossed the yard like a ship in full sail, her head held high. Eowyn and Belecthor followed anxiously.

“Where is Arador?” asked Eowyn.

“The boy’s safe,” said Ma.

Eowyn looked around, hoping to spot Legolas, but could see no sign of him. Her hand moved to her sword, and she sensed that Belecthor was trying to decide whether—when it came to a fight—he should stay at her side, or should join his comrades; she felt sorry for him.

They reached the mouth of the road just as the Reeve came into view, running at the head of his men. His sword was drawn, and his men were chanting, and Eowyn had to admit that it was a stirring sight.

But Ma simply planted her plump hands on her broad hips and, as unperturbed as a rocky headland facing a stormy sea, she roared, “Baranor son of Barathor, stop this nonsense!”