Eorling Mead Hall

[Alcarillo]

Gárwine dined on breakfast alone in his room, but kept the door open so he could be first to know of the injured boy's condition. He was probably attacked when traveling through the city at night, Gárwine thought, and once he was beaten senseless, robbed. And what with the likes of Larswic's sons loitering outside at night, Gárwine couldn't help but feel that the boy should've been a bit more prepared. But then again, he could be new to Edoras. And country life is very different than town life. He remembered his life in Wilfrid's tiny village: serene and safe, though at times very dull.

Gárwine returned to thinking about the wounded boy, and Larswic's sons. It was not impossible for them to have attacked the boy. They were near the same age, were they not? And the sons' midnight laughter could just as easily have been about freshly robbed coin as about a lewd joke.

That's ridiculous, Gárwine thought, chasing the suspicions out of his head. The product of an over-imaginative mind looking for adventure, as my Uncle always said. Garwine finished his breakfast, and as he exited his room he remembered the horse fair was today. Hurrying down the hall, past the room with the injured boy, he found Eodwine near the cellars. Eodwine quickly gave Gárwine leave to visit the fair, and Gárwine bounded out of the inn, glad to be able to take a walk around town.

Gárwine walked through the streets, taking in all the marvels of the crowds. Street musicians played their music right in the road. Riders led their fine horses through the streets to the fairgrounds and the racetrack. People were everywhere. The entire Mid-Emnet had arrived for the occasion.

Gárwine headed to the racetrack first, to see the racers and their horses before the races began. He fingered the few bronze coins in his pocket, but wisely decided not to spend them gambling, remembering how Thornden had warned him against even playing dice. It's too bad Léof's foot still hurts, he thought. He would've liked to race his horse today.

He ambled past the racers, both because of the natural flow of the crowd and because the wanted to see the colorful pavilions and stalls built beyond the racetrack. There he saw innumerable shops selling treasures from all over Middle-earth. Such trade had grown rapidly since the end of the War, when the roads were made safer for the merchants. With four pennies Gárwine bought a little dwarf knife, straight out of the North. The stall-keeper said the best knives were all made by the dwarves, and Gárwine could not resist buying one. He continued browsing through the attractions. There was a group of acrobats tumbling across the ground, and more musicians, and more stalls selling their wares, and men on stilts in fanciful costumes. Wonder upon wonder from all across Middle-earth, and all here at the horse-fair.