Sun was rising over the hills, no attacks or other commotion reported on the camp of Grimbold last night. I actually slept very well. When I rolled out of my tent one of the Riders beckoned me to follow him. Still rubbing my eyes I followed him towards the captains section of the camp. The rider nudged me towards the captain and I gave the captain a short salute. He walked towards me and and patted me on the back "Good work by you and your comrades, burning that village made sure our barricade on the Heathfells still holds". He wanted me to walk with him to a stable with Rohan steeds.
The captain grabbed the reins of a grey/white horse and walked towards me "you requested a steed last week". The captain showed a weak smile "here you go, may he bring better fortune than its previous rider". I took over the reins and gave the steed a good look. It was a strong looking horse with a grey hide. His eyes stood proud and were looking at me as if he did not trust me. Scars of previous battles were present on his neck and midsection. The captain wanted to walk away but turned around "He is called Graegwine, take your time with him for he needs time to get to know you". I thanked the captain for this great honor. Graegwine means grey friend in the common tongue, yet there was no friendship yet.
The horse did not allow to be mounted by me as he did not accept me as his rider. I walked with the horse to the training grounds next to the camp, and applied for training. The first four days I trained with Graegwine. Slowly the steed accepted me as his rider, yet I still felt some distrust. By the end of the week we rode around without any trouble and decided to ride away from of the camp for a while. Riding a steed such as this is different in every way compared to my old Bree horse. We rode across the hills feeling the free wind in the hair.
On one hill I stopped, looking down the hill I saw two individuals walking on the path. Taking a closer look it were orcs wearing arms. I felt Graegwine taking a position ready to charge, the steed eyed me as if waiting for an order to strike. I gave a short spur and the horse plunged forward into a galop. We thundered down the hill, while I held my javelin ready. The heavy horse was rolling down the hill as the ground shook beneath his hooves. The orcs looked suprised and tried to decide what to do. Graegwine was going so fast I could barely hold on. One orc ran off into the green, while the other one tried to make a stand. I tried hurling a javelin to the fleeing orc but I missed, combat on horse back really needs more practice. At five meters from the orc, I saw him tremble and weaver. The orc was trampled beneath the hooves of Graegwine, leaving a twitching corpse in a pile of orc-blood. I burst out into laughter while patting the horse on his neck, "well done my grey friend!".
