Chapter 1 - The River Isen

Rohan, Sept 18

Fear of Water

"Khamûl, let's go."

Angmar called to him from the opposite bank. The others had already forded the River, and were ready to go on.

Khamûl stared at the flowing water of the River Isen. The water looked evil. In the music of the current, he could hear the river's voice.

I can suck you under. I can drown you.

And when they pull you out weeks from now, your body will be hideous, bloated and white, with empty eye sockets where the crabs have been at you.

Khamûl had crossed small streams before. He could do this.

It was like walking a thin plank over a ten-foot drop. If you had the right attitude, it was no different than walking along a line on the ground. Arms out for balance, heel to toe, heel to toe. Focus on the far side, and don't look down, because if he looked down, he froze. And it was very hard to get unfrozen again.

He sat motionless in the saddle, staring at the running water, unable to move.

"Khamûl, it's less than a foot deep. You're not going to drown." said Angmar. Khamûl didn't move.

"Would it help if you learned how to swim?" asked Angmar.

"I can swim." said Khamûl, slightly offended.

Khamûl tried to kick his horse forward, but his feet wouldn't obey him. His mouth was dry, and however he breathed, it left him light-headed.

"I suppose you need help?" Angmar asked, exasperated.

He turned his horse around and grasped Kestrel's bridle. Khamûl closed his eyes and clutched the edge of the saddle. The horses broke into a trot as they went down the bank, and entered the water at a canter.

Khamûl head the roaring of the current, felt the splashing kicked up by the horses' hooves. They crossed the ford in ten or twelve long strides.

Finally, he felt Kestrel scrambling up the opposite bank and onto the flat grassland beyond. He slid out of the saddle, fell to his hands and knees, and was violently ill.

"You do know we'll have to cross it again on the way home, don't you?" said Angmar.