“Parry”—Éowyn hit the girl’s blade so that it glanced aside—“block”—a firmer strike that made the girl stumble back, her blade pinned—“lunge”—Éowyn’s blade slipped through the girl’s guard and tapped her shoulder in one smooth motion.

Panting, her shoulders sagging, the girl, Wilfled, wiped her brow with her arm and asked, “Why must we train, when the men can fight and defend us?”

Éowyn looked out at the women training around them, steel meeting steel in a ringing dance of strikes and parries, and she smiled grimly as she said, “Because we are shieldmaidens, daughters of warriors, and we will not cower and hide in our homes when we, too, can defend our people; we will choose our dooms, and we will do deeds of glory, even if there be none left to tell of them.”