Spring came. The snows melted, revealing the bones of the fallen. Héra was offered the crown, but she refused. “I am a rider of the Mark,” she said. “My father’s bloodline ends with me. But Rohan will not fall.”
Freca proposed a union: Wulf would marry Héra, and in return, Freca’s lands would be merged with the crown, making Wulf the heir. Helm laughed, a sound like grinding stone. “You come with a beggar’s bowl and call it a crown? My daughter is not a prize for a wolf pup.” The Lord of the Rings- The War of the Rohirrim ...
Helm became a ghost. Every night, he slipped out alone, bare-handed, and stalked the enemy camp. They called him the “White Hand” because frost covered his fists. He killed sentries, broke siege engines, and left corpses with their necks twisted. In the morning, his laughter echoed from the walls. Spring came
The attack came on the eve of winter’s deepest freeze. Wulf’s army—ten thousand strong, armed with black-sailed ships and fell axes—stormed the ford of the Isen. Edoras fell in a night of fire. Hama, the eldest son, died holding the gate against a Dunlending champion. Haleth was cut down defending the mead hall. “I am a rider of the Mark,” she said