"Humans, eh? Think they're lords of creation.
Not like us cats. We know we are.
Ever see a cat feed a human? Case proven."

― Terry Pratchett, The Amazing Maurice
and His Educated Rodents

25. To Helm's Deep

Great food, thought the tomcat. Nice elf. I'll follow you everywhere, and bring you little gifts. I shall call you Blondy, and you shall be mine.

Kat frowned at Legolas, who was generously sharing the contents of his plate. I told you, you shouldn't feed strays. We'll never get rid of that mangy beast now!

Really, Kat, are you jealous of a cat?

I'm not jealous of that horny imbecil!

"Poor little Tommy, is Kitty calling you names?" Legolas stroked its black fur. "Who's a good boy, then?"

I love you, Blondy.

"Aww, the wee cat's been hurt." Gimli had joined them. "Look at his nose. All scarred." He gave the tom a chicken leg.

'Wee'?! It's a huge, cat shaped monster!

Nice dwarf. The cat rubbed his face against Gimli's boot and hungrily devoured the chicken. I shall call you Hairy, and you shall be mine.

/\_,,_,.  /\_,,_/\
( ಠ_ಠ ) ( ᵔ ᴥ ᵔ ) 

The meal did not last long; soon servants came from the king's armory with equipment for the guests. Legolas and Aragorn received helmets, shields and chainmail shirts, while Gimli, who already wore a dwarfish breastplate, seemed happy with just a small shield and an iron cap. Théoden said he had worn the cap when he was a boy, and hoped it would serve the dwarf well. Turning to Gandalf, he continued: "Unfortunately, I have no armor for your cat companions."

It's cat 'companion', in singular form. We are not bringing the tom!

"I am sure they will manage," said Gandalf. For his own part, he had no need for armor either, but was promised another fine gift: the horse Shadowfax.

With all that settled, it was time for a last ceremony; a parting drink of wine for good health and success in battle. Éowyn gave the goblet to her uncle first, and then brought it to each of the guests in turn.

You gonna drink from that, with all the others' spit in it? Gross.

Legolas blanched. Why did you have to mention that? I cannot refuse; it is impolite.

Oops, sorry. But the alcohol has killed all the germs, I'm sure. You'll be fine.

Germs? What are– Nay. Don't tell me. Don't ever tell me! With a pained face he accepted the cup, discreetly wiped it on his sleeve and took a very small sip.

Aragorn was next, and Kat noticed Éowyn's fingers touching his when she offered the wine. "Hail Aragorn, son of Arathorn." Her eyes were large and bright.

Aragorn looked uncomfortable. "Hail Lady of Rohan." He quickly passed the goblet back.

Ouch. She's got it so bad. Who'll break the bad news to her?

We are leaving soon; they shall probably never meet again.

Let's hope you're right... I hate love triangles.

When everyone had drunk the parting cup, King Théoden solemnly announced that, should he not survive the war, his nephew Éomer would be his heir. "And if neither of us return, then choose a new lord as you will," he added gravely.

Kat swallowed hard. That sounded far too ominous for her liking.

Since Éomer was going with Théoden to the upcoming battle, someone else had to rule Edoras in his absence. After a short exchange with Háma, the king appointed Lady Éowyn for that task.

A female ruler; that must be unusual, Kat remarked, trying to shake off her sense of dread at all this talk of death.

For humans, maybe; not for elves. Think of Galadriel.

True. That's one of the things I like about you people.

To Kat's surprise, Legolas did not respond with a teasing remark about other elvish things she may like – such as his good looks. It was unlike him to pass over such an opportunity.

Trying to catch his gaze, she noticed how tense he was. She buffed his arm with her head, which proved rather painful when he wore chainmail. Anything the matter?

Nay, he replied curtly; an obvious lie. Kat could feel his unease clearly, a restless nervousness, and guessed the upcoming battle was what had set him on edge.

She sighed. Why must there be so much fighting on this quest?

The king had finished his affairs and was ready to leave. They followed him out to the city gate, where the meadows now were swarming with riders, a thousand or more. To Kat's eyes many of them looked way too young for this, but she knew the times were different; here girls probably married and had babies long before eighteen, and going to war at sixteen was apparently not a big deal.

Gimli and Éomer settled their earlier dispute without fuss, and after the Rohirrim had promised never to speak ill of Lady Galadriel again, the dwarf agreed to share a saddle with him – if Legolas could ride beside them.

"Legolas on my left and Aragorn on my right, and none will dare stand before us!" exclaimed Éomer. The young warrior seemed very eager to be on his way, and swiftly helped Gimli sit behind him.

Kat jumped up on Legolas' horse as usual, giving the tomcat a warning hiss when he tried to follow.

Go home! You can't come.

I'm gonna follow Blondy and Hairy everywhere. And you, my lover.

I'm not your lover!

Gandalf whistled and Shadowfax galloped up to him. When the wizard had mounted, his clothes and the Meara's coat blended together in radiant whiteness.

"Behold the White Rider!" yelled Aragorn.

"Our king and the White Rider!" cried the warriors. And then: "Forth Eorlingas!"

Trumpets sounded and weapons were struck against shields with ringing clashes, and when the king raised his hand the whole company set off in a thunder of hooves.

Lady Éowyn stayed behind with the trumpetists, standing slim and straight in her silver chainmail as she watched all her loved ones ride away into the sunset, perhaps never to return.

Unbeknownst to her, one of the town's alley cats speedily trotted away in the riders' wake.

/\_,,_,.   /\_,,_/\
( o _ o )  ( * ᴥ * ) 

They rode at a great speed for several hours, with the sun annoyingly blazing in their eyes until it finally set completely. They were headed to Isen, a river where Saruman's army had attacked Rohan, and where the king's son Théodred had been killed recently. Théoden hoped the rest of his men were still holding the enemy back at the Ford of Isen, but was in a great hurry to assist them in their plight.

When they at last had to stop for the night, the company lit no fires in case enemies were near, and the king assigned many guards.

Kat was too worried to sleep, and Legolas seemed to feel the same. He lay on his back, eyes open, wide awake. Kat did not roll up on his stomach as usual, because his mailshirt was too hard and cold. Instead she sat on the grass between him and a gently snoring Gimli, trying to relax and find comfort in their presence.

It did not work. With every tiny move, Legolas' chainmail jingled and clinked, reminding her that an actual war was about to happen. She ought not to think about it, but her thoughts did not obey.

War. Death. Blood. Gruesome wounds and cut-off limbs.

How had she gotten herself into this mess? She was a Swede, and Swedes don't do war, for crying out loud! War happened to other people, and to other countries, usually somewhere remote so you did not have to think about it very much. You could write #prayfor[insert remote country] on social media and then go on with your life.

But here, war was real, and it happened to people whether they wanted it or not. In Middle-earth you could not claim neutrality and tell Saruman and Sauron they weren't allowed to attack you. And you could not remind them of the Geneva convention, for there was no law of war. If a Dark Lord wanted to capture you and torture you, he could, and he would.

Legolas' chainmail clinked again as he changed position on his blanket, and the sound sent tendrils of chill through Kat. Very soon Legolas could be fighting an army. A real battle, for the first time on this quest – and in his life, she suspected. But it would be no ordinary fight (which was bad enough), because this host was led by a mighty wizard; one who had been powerful enough to send a snowstorm and a pack of firework-smelling fantom wargs on them earlier in their journey, and who appeared to have an endless supply of bloodthirsty orcs.

Here a thousand riders were on their way to meet this force. How many would return? How many of these young boys would never grow up to be men and fathers? Which of Kat's friends would still be alive the day after tomorrow? Would she live to see that day?

There you are, finally! I need food, and then we can mate.

Oh no! The darn tom followed us! She tried to sound annoyed, but was secretly relieved at the distraction. Worrying over an obnoxious cat was much better than her previous dark thoughts.

"Aww, Tommy. Good boy. You should not have come – but in a way, I am glad of your company."

Traitor. You already have a cat.

"Nay, Adanig nín." You are my little human. He gave her a tense smile.

His agitated look and affectionate words easily melted away Kat's pretended jealousy. In that case, you may get as many cats as you need.

When the tom was fed, he was thankfully too tired to think about mating and instantly went to sleep on Legolas' blanket. Kat lay beside him, glad for his warmth in the chill night, and felt herself doze off at last.

Perhaps a cat companion wasn't so bad after all.

/\_,,_,.  /\_,,_/\
( v _ v ) ( v _ v ) 

Tommy's lustful meows woke Kat up a few hours later. A well-aimed paw, claws out, effectively stopped his attempt at mating with her, but she could not quiet his incessant wailing.

Still think it was a good idea to feed him?

Legolas had pulled the hood of his cloak up in an attempt to mute the sound. I am beginning to regret that, aye. But he seemed so starved, and I could not resist.

You're such a big softie. Kat buffed his hand.

The riders were ready shortly after sunrise, and soon the whole company was on the move again. To Kat's dismay, Legolas insisted on carrying the tomcat on the horse, for, as he said, 'the poor thing will ruin his paws if he must run any longer.' Grudgingly Kat had to share her space, and Tommy's continuous talk about what he wanted to do with her grated on her nerves. Though, she had to admit, cat sex talk was better than thoughts about war and death.

It was an uneventful day, but when the sun set on a cloudy sky, a lone rider approached them from the direction of Isen. The man looked terrible; dirty and smeared in blood, with a broken shield and no sword. He spoke at length in Rohirric with the king and his men.

Suddenly Gandalf exclaimed something in the same language, and promptly galloped away on Shadowfax, fast as an arrow. In no time, he was gone from their sight.

Where's he going? I'm supposed to follow him! Gandalf! Come baaaack!

He must have forgotten. Legolas sounded troubled. This does not bode well. Not at all.

Aragorn cantered over to them. "Bad news," he barked. "Saruman's army has crossed the river and pushed the Rohirrim back. The leader of the defenders, Erkenbrand, has an old fortress in the mountains called Helm's Deep, and they are trying to retreat there now. We are going there also."

"Where did Gandalf go?" asked Legolas.

"He did not say. Only that he will meet us at Helm's Gate shortly."

It will probably be alright then, Kat, he will not be gone long.

I hope you're right. Kat tried to suppress her dismay.

The company began to move again, turning away from the western road onto a narrow, southward path between rolling hills, alongside a creek called the Deeping-stream.

After a while, there was a noise ahead; shouting men and blasting horns. Aragorn rode forward to ask what had happened, and soon returned with more bad news. Théoden's scouts had spotted a large host of warg riders and men loyal to Saruman, all of them hurrying towards Helm's Deep. They had also found a few of the fleeing Rohirrim defenders, who said their company had been scattered and their leader gone missing.

"Hopefully Erkenbrand is safe at Helm's Deep, and the bulk of his men there with him – for if we must defend it by ourselves, we are too few, I think." Aragorn looked grim. "The enemy host is close on our heels, and it's huge. Saruman must have emptied Isengard almost completely."

Just as he said that, Kat heard something in the distance, a chanting of many voices.

"I see orcs with torches and fires," hissed Legolas. "They are burning trees! Trees and human houses."

"My poor people," sighed Éomer, who still rode with Gimli. "So many farmers lived there."

"How many orcs can you see, Legolas?" asked Gimli.

"They are countless."

"I wish I would not have to run away from them like a coward," Aragorn muttered.

"We will not run much longer," soothed Éomer. "Soon we shall arrive at Helm's Dike." He explained that the Dike was a long moat with an earthen wall behind it. It had an opening where they could turn and face the enemy.

Théoden was just coming by on his big warhorse, and heard his nephew's words. "We are too few to defend the Dike," he stated grimly.

The ride continued, ever more slowly. The horses stumbled on the uneven ground at the foot of the mountains, and the sky was very dark and cloudy, with neither moon, nor stars.

Behind them, the orcs had no such problems. They were creatures of the night, and their wargs were sure-footed. The chanting voices, myriad of torches and blazing fires of the pursuers crept closer, and the sense of urgency increased among the Rohirrim with each slow minute.

Kat's heart thrummed almost painfully in her chest, and even Tommy seemed aware of the threat. His black fur was bristling and his claws dug deep into Legolas' mailed arm.

Then at last Kat saw the Dike among the shadows ahead; a high wall towered over her, and in front of it the moat glittered faintly. She heard relieved murmurs and sighs as the men spotted it too, and soon the company had galloped through the opening.

At the other side they were met by a few guards, led by an old man called Gamling. He gave them the first good news in a long time: there were another thousand men already here to guard Helm's Deep, though many were very old, or very young. But with the addition of Théoden's riders they could hopefully hold the fortress for a good while. Even a siege of many days would not be a problem; a great storage of food was kept in a system of caves behind the fort, and they had fresh water from the Deeping-stream to drink.

But of course there was bad news as well. Erkenbrand had not come yet, and most of his men were missing too. Only if they had survived and came here, could Théoden hope to defeat the enemy, for he would run out of food eventually – even if the walls withstood Saruman's onslaught.

Led by Gamling, the army now continued to the inner part of Helm's Deep. In the darkness only the cats could see much of the surroundings, but Éomer told Gimli and Legolas what they saw. They were walking through a deep cleft in the mountains, where sheer cliff walls came together into a rough arrowhead shape as seen from above. At its base in the south was Helm's Dike which they had already passed through, and at the pointed end in the north was the entrance to the Glittering Caves where the food was stored. In addition, the women, children and cattle from all the farmsteads had taken refuge there.

The Deeping Wall, a tall and smooth stone barricade, spanned from one mountainside to the other and cut off access to the caves like the crossbar of an A. The Deeping-stream poured out of the caves and through a culvert in the wall, and continued to fill the moat of the Dike.

The only way into the fortress was through Helm's Gate at the right side of the Wall. A ramp led up to the gate, so narrow that the men had to walk in a single file and lead their horses along it. This was a protection; it made it much harder for foes to come close enough to break the gate.

Behind the gate was a castle-like building; the Hornburg. Éomer said it was called that because when a horn was blown from its roof, the sound echoed and rang between the cliffs so that it seemed like a thousand warriors hid among them. It could give hope to the defenders, and sometimes scare off enemies too.

Kat looked eagerly around her when she entered the gate. This is Helm's Gate, right? But where is Gandalf?

Maybe he was delayed. He said he would come, and I trust him. Legolas probably tried to sound reassuring, but he could not hide the worry emanating from him.

If I botch my quest now, I'll blame him! Kat in turn tried to sound annoyed, but fared no better than Legolas at hiding her unease.

I don't like this place, thought Tommy forlornly.

When the whole company had come inside, the gates were shut and bolted. The king and a few of his men continued into the Hornburg, while Éomer took most of the army out on top of the Deeping Wall where they spread out evenly along the parapet.

Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn went with him, with Kat and Tommy on their heels.

"You should not bring the animals here." Éomer frowned. "They will be in the way."

"If I may, my lord, I have a suggestion," said Gamling. "An important task, very suitable for cats. You see, our food stores are infested with rats, but I'm sure such fine hunters could easily get rid of the vermin for us."

Kat stared at him. Rats? You gotta be kidding me.

A/N:

In Swedish Gamling means 'old man', in a not very nice way. It always cracked me up that Tolkien would name a warrior so. :D

Thanks a lot for all comments and votes! You are such great and supportive readers. *Hugs!*