Post by ladyeowynn on May 5, 2008 10:07:01 GMT -7
“But Father! I don’t want to go!” Eowynn screamed, as her farther picked her up and put her in the wagon next to her older brothers, Gwadren and Elstrond. Their mother was hurrying alongside and carrying the baby sister, Marenda.
“But you must, Eowynn. I do not know if we can withstand them this time. Their numbers are many and we are few. We know some tricks though. Now be a good little girl for your mother and I’ll be fine.” He kissed her on the forehead and paused. Grabbing her tightly, he hugged her like there would be no tomorrow. Eowynn tried jumping out of the wagon, but her brother’s arm’s had a good grip on her tiny elven form. She tried twisting, jumping, clawing, biting; anything that might allow her to go to Papa. But it was no use. Their muscles had been strengthened by the long, hard work of the training elven boys endure growing up. Archery practice, endurance training, sparring with each other and their father. She was as good as bolted to the wagon.
“But Father, I can help! I’ve been practicing!” She whimpered. The look on her father’s face instantly told her it had been a mistake to reveal that information.
“Eowynn! You disobey me at every turn with training. That is for men only! Women should not be doing battle. They are the lifeblood of our people. Risking that in battle is unwise. And even if you were my son you are still too young. Gwadren and Elstrond are also going with you, and they are older than you, so this discussion is over, you understand me, young lady?”
“But Father…” she began.
“Enough! Not another word or you shall be…” He let his voice trail off as he heard the cries of the battle horns call out. His eyes misted over, and he kissed her again, hugged the boys and said, “I love you all. Take care of your mother. I have to go.”
He then walked up to the front and kissed his wife the Kiss of Forever and helped her up to the wagon seat. When she was seated, he smacked the borrowed horse on the rump and the wagon lurched forward. But to where? Safety? Hopefully, but there was no guarantee of that, the people of Shadrom could sense that much. Her father was right, this time felt different.
The marauders from the Northlands had hit our village many, many times over the centuries, and the Elves of Shadrom had always turned them back. Shadrom’s defenses had been vastly superior to the attacks of heathens from the Northlands. We preferred elegant weapons such as the bow, over the heathen’s blades and clumsy staffs. Defense from a distance was a great strength and we used it well. We understood the weaknesses of that defense and used them to our advantage. Our cities were well defended with high walls and few entrances. From the time Elven boys could walk, archery was taught. Toy bows were the first line of instruction and once a boy could send the family pet running, he was enrolled in the Archer’s Academy. There his eyesight was tested. If he scored Normal or higher he was instructed in all of the different bows; cross, long and short. Below Normal results relegated a young man to the hand-to-hand combat training that was tolerated as still necessary to a successful defense strategy. But all too often, the students of this art were made to feel like second-class citizens in the Shadrom society.
Eowynn looked at her father as the wagon started picking up speed. She saw on his face the tears of one sending his family to a destination he knew he would not see…
“But you must, Eowynn. I do not know if we can withstand them this time. Their numbers are many and we are few. We know some tricks though. Now be a good little girl for your mother and I’ll be fine.” He kissed her on the forehead and paused. Grabbing her tightly, he hugged her like there would be no tomorrow. Eowynn tried jumping out of the wagon, but her brother’s arm’s had a good grip on her tiny elven form. She tried twisting, jumping, clawing, biting; anything that might allow her to go to Papa. But it was no use. Their muscles had been strengthened by the long, hard work of the training elven boys endure growing up. Archery practice, endurance training, sparring with each other and their father. She was as good as bolted to the wagon.
“But Father, I can help! I’ve been practicing!” She whimpered. The look on her father’s face instantly told her it had been a mistake to reveal that information.
“Eowynn! You disobey me at every turn with training. That is for men only! Women should not be doing battle. They are the lifeblood of our people. Risking that in battle is unwise. And even if you were my son you are still too young. Gwadren and Elstrond are also going with you, and they are older than you, so this discussion is over, you understand me, young lady?”
“But Father…” she began.
“Enough! Not another word or you shall be…” He let his voice trail off as he heard the cries of the battle horns call out. His eyes misted over, and he kissed her again, hugged the boys and said, “I love you all. Take care of your mother. I have to go.”
He then walked up to the front and kissed his wife the Kiss of Forever and helped her up to the wagon seat. When she was seated, he smacked the borrowed horse on the rump and the wagon lurched forward. But to where? Safety? Hopefully, but there was no guarantee of that, the people of Shadrom could sense that much. Her father was right, this time felt different.
The marauders from the Northlands had hit our village many, many times over the centuries, and the Elves of Shadrom had always turned them back. Shadrom’s defenses had been vastly superior to the attacks of heathens from the Northlands. We preferred elegant weapons such as the bow, over the heathen’s blades and clumsy staffs. Defense from a distance was a great strength and we used it well. We understood the weaknesses of that defense and used them to our advantage. Our cities were well defended with high walls and few entrances. From the time Elven boys could walk, archery was taught. Toy bows were the first line of instruction and once a boy could send the family pet running, he was enrolled in the Archer’s Academy. There his eyesight was tested. If he scored Normal or higher he was instructed in all of the different bows; cross, long and short. Below Normal results relegated a young man to the hand-to-hand combat training that was tolerated as still necessary to a successful defense strategy. But all too often, the students of this art were made to feel like second-class citizens in the Shadrom society.
Eowynn looked at her father as the wagon started picking up speed. She saw on his face the tears of one sending his family to a destination he knew he would not see…