Eorling Mead Hall

[littlemanpoet]

"What have you got in your pocket?" Eodwine asked.

"String I suppose." Falco pulled his hand out of his pocket. "Or nothing. Anyway, I'll pack after a bit and bid you all goodbye after second midday meal. One must have proper vittles before taking such journey."

"Will you be going by yourself?"

"It need not be so, but I wager the king's roads are safer today than they were fourteen years ago and more." Falco stopped and squinted suspiciously at Eodwine, then at Thornden. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Eodwine and Thornden said nothing but paid extra attention to the remains of their vittles.

"I'll show you! I'll go find Léof right this minute and I'll begone after first midday meal instead of second! In fact, I'll leave right after second breakfast! See if I don't!"

With that Falco walked out of the kitchen in a huff, opening the door in a hurry. Ginna happened to be coming in from outside with a tray of water cups. Caught by surprise by the suddenly opened door, she tripped and the tray fell, splashing all over the sputtering hobbit.

[Firefoot]

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t say that,” answered Léof carefully. Actually, he knew he had not said it. He had hoped it would not come back to this. The ride had been going so well, too; Javan’s cheeks weren’t the only ones slightly flushed from exhilaration.

“But can we?” asked Javan, seemingly not too put off.

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea,” Léof answered.

“Nobody would know,” Javan repeated.

“I’m not concerned with ‘getting away with it,’ Javan,” said Léof. “Jumping the horses is not a good idea, regardless of who knows. No jumping today.” Javan’s face was settling into a pout, and Léof didn’t want to hear any more whining, so he cut Javan off and changed the subject. “Look, part of the reason I brought you out here today was to watch you ride. There’s a nice flat grassy area over there – come on.” He nudged Æthel forward as he continued. “I just want you to ride around a bit – circles, figure eights, whatever you want, at some different paces. I’ll let you know if there’s something in particular I want you to do.”

[Folwren]

Javan swallowed more words of protest and pleading. What was the good of arguing with anyone in charge? They always wanted go exactly with the rules, no matter how fun the breaking of those rules might be. He gave Léof a narrow, reproachful look out of the corner of his eyes as he obediently swung his horse about and set her into a trot into the clear space that Léof indicated.

“Figure eights. Circles! Pah!” Javan felt furious. “What am I - his pupil? Does he think I don’t know how to ride?” He jerked fitfully on Herefola’s rein, pulling her head about. She turned in an awkward looking circle, swinging about on her hindquarters and launching again into a trot immediately in response to both his feet kicking into her sides.

Léof stopped his horse some way back and sat watching Javan work. Javan did what Léof asked of him, setting different paces and go left and right and in circles and other figures as he was instructed. Before very long, Léof had him come back.

Javan allowed Herefola to trot back to Æthel. “There,” he said, coming to Léof’s side. “I did it. What’d you think? Am I good enough for you?"

[Firefoot]

Léof didn’t have Javan ride around for too long. He only wanted a feel for the other boy’s abilities, and he was mostly pleased with what he saw. Javan sat Herefola with confidence and Léof could see that he was a fairly accomplished rider, despite his inexperience in stable work. He had noticed, however, some roughness with the reins and a style that was more aggressive than Léof would have liked to see. He could not quite dismiss this, but he told himself that Javan was still young and could likely be taught otherwise. Needing to see no more and ready to go on with the ride, he called Javan back.

He was not prepared for Javan’s sharp remarks: “There. I did it. What’d you think? Am I good enough for you?"

Léof recoiled, stung. “It’s not like that, and you ought to know it. Come on.” He turned Æthel down the way they had been heading earlier, surprisingly bitter thoughts swirling in his mind. It was hard for him too, after all! He wanted to be Javan’s friend, but how did that reconcile with being in charge of him as well? Responsibility had always been his mantra, these last few months more than ever. After all, what would happen to Javan if he were caught breaking the rules? He might get sent away from the Mead Hall to his home, nothing worse. Léof had nowhere to go; he couldn’t afford to break the rules. And if Javan got hurt because of his irresponsibility, the retribution would be even worse. So what was he supposed to do? How ought he to act?

He almost wished he had not brought Javan with him today, that instead he had simply come out here by himself to let Æthel go for as long and hard as she would go, and he was reluctant to offer a race to Javan; that seemed to belong to a camaraderie that had been splinched off. He did not know what to say to Javan that would not seem either appeasing or demanding, so silently he rode on, half-hoping Javan would break the silence and half-hoping he would say nothing at all.

[littlemanpoet]

Falco muttered bitterly as he helped Ginna pick up the cups and place them back on her tray, then he walked out the door.

Ginna stood a moment, stared at by all gathered, then said, "I will fetch more water." She was about to walk back out when Kara stopped her and offered to fill the cups with her jug.

Silence settled over the room, and Eodwine gave his attention to his breakfast.

"I will go to Scarburg."

Eodwine raised his head and looked for the speaker. It was a woman's voice. Others' eyes had turned to Rowenna. She was looking straight at him.

"My thanks, Rowenna." Eodwine looked around. "Anyone else?"

[Kath]

Kara had stood in silence after Eodwine's sudden revelation, and was only startled from it when Frodides began to speak. As the old cook's mouth opened in answer to the Eorl's request for one to stay behind as innkeeper she had almost feared that Frodides intended to stay behind, to act as ruler in Eodwine's absence, but even before the first few words had been spoken Kara had known she was being foolish. Frodides was quite happy being in charge of the kitchen. Being in control of the rest of the place would only distract from that.

So it was with a much lighter heart that she had started to move toward the doors as she had been told, but Falco's addition to the meeting had brought her to a stop again. She never could make up her mind about the hobbit. There were times when he made her laugh until she cried and others when she would quite happily strangle him, and she still wasn't entirely sure how to tell whether he meant what he said or not. Still, he had seemed serious enough when he had risen and marched off, it was just a shame that the exit had been ruined by Ginna pouring water down the front of him.

Smothering the smile that rose at the sight of the dripping hobbit and the horrified face of poor Ginna, Kara followed the girl outside in the hopes of offering some comfort. She did seem to have an unfortunate habit of throwing things down people and felt each accident deeply, as evidenced by the drooping shoulders and quiet muttering Kara observed as she walked through the door.

"Are you alright?" Kara asked, taking up a jug to help refill the cups that had been spilt. "Falco at least is fine. A little wet and his pride may have been bruised a little, but perhaps that isn't a bad thing." She continued, trying for a little humour, but as Ginna slowly turned her face toward her Kara could see that it hadn't really worked.

[Folwren]

“Anyone else?” Eodwine asked, glancing again at those gathered. Thornden looked at him and decided to speak.

“I will do as you bid me, my lord,” he said. “I would like to stay with you and go with you to Scarburg, but if you ask me to remain here, I will do as you wish.”

[littlemanpoet]

"My thanks to you, Thornden," Eodwine replied. "I want you with me at Scarburg." Eodwine looked around the kitchen. Everybody else who might say something was looking everywhere except at Eodwine. He allowed a sly smile to creep onto his face. They needed time to think, or they wanted to speak with him in private. Very well.

"I will not ask any of you right this moment. Think on it, and speak to me soon. By the end of this day, if you have a mind." He looked down at his now empty plate. "As for me, it seems my food is eaten and I don't remember eating it. Ah well. I shall be roving Edoras parts of today, speaking with folk of the town to see if anyone can point me to a good innkeeper. So I bid you all good day, and eat and work well and to your heart's delight."

With that the Eorl got himself up and left the kitchen, washed himself in his room, dressed as befitting an Eorl of the King, and made his way to the stables. Léof was not there, nor Javan, but Flíthaf was, and the stallion grew excited the moment he saw his master.

"Ah, Flíthaf! It has been too long already since we rode the open plains. Maybe you need a good run before I take you about town for this innkeeper business." He found an old but serviceable apple and raised it to the horse's lips. "How would you like that?" The horse took the apple from Eodwine's hand and tossed his head as he made quick work of the dainty. Eodwine saddled him up and mounted his now frisky stallion, and left the Mead Hall behind as the sun rose into the sky.

[Folwren]

The fun seemed to have been taken out of the ride and Javan could not entirely tell why. He was inclined not to blame himself, but it was obvious that Léof was not happy with what he had said. The discomfort and rigidness from the ostler somehow passed through the air and settled on Javan. He was a little ashamed, perhaps. . .

“Should we go back now, Léof?” he asked after several minutes of riding without speaking.

Léof nodded and they turned their horse’s heads towards Edoras. “Can we run back?” Javan asked, a fresh spark of excitement entering his eyes. Léof nodded again and immediately the two mares moved forward into a canter.

At the gates they drew rein. Javan was flushed again and almost laughing. His blood pumped quickly and beneath him his horse moved hotly, too. She obviously had more energy in her.

They walked up through the gates, past the watching guards and into the street. Javan eased the pressure on Herefola’s bit and her feet quickened into a trot.

“Carefully, Javan, just walk, she might be barn sour,” Léof said.

Always careful. Always worried that something might happen and always telling him what to do. Javan frowned and sent Léof a rather black look and instead of tightening the reins again, he loosened them even more and clamped to her tighter with his knees. At once she moved forward from a trot into a slow but eager canter. Javan chuckled to himself and was about to draw rein when suddenly, from the doorstep of one of the houses on the side of the road, a large dog suddenly howled and bayed as she darted forward and snapped at Herefola’s feet.

The mare’s forward momentum stopped abruptly as she shied sideways. Her head went down towards the dog and her back humped. She skittered to the side of the road and stopped her escape in that direction when her hindquarter’s rammed hard against the booth of a fruit seller. The tables teetered and fell with a crash and Herefola, terrified, swerved again to the other side, towards the dog. The bitch’s barking and howling intensified as the horse came near her again and Herefola, out of her mind with fear, plunged forward into an instant run.

Javan clung blindly to her mane. His seat was unstable, after nearly being thrown twice by her shying sideways, and his limbs were frozen in fear and panic. The mare would not have stopped for some time had a man not stepped suddenly forward and caught her boldly by the bridle rein and brought her to a stop.

“Woah there. Easy, girl,” the man said, gently stroking her and speaking quietly. “Easy. . .” Herefola stood still, her head up, her ears twitching backwards and forward and back again. She was trembling in every limb.

Javan slowly slipped down from the saddle. The man turned his head to look at him. “Got out of hand, didn’ she?” he asked, not unkindly.

“Yes, sir,” Javan said.

“Well, well. There you are. Take good care of her.” He let Javan take his place at her head, holding her rein, and he turned and went back into the shop he had left. Javan thanked him quietly as he left and then stood still, letting Herefola cool and calm down while he waited for Léof to catch up to them.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine came back into Edoras after a good long ride, though not long enough apparently for Flíthaf, who fretted and threw up his head repeatedly as Eodwine held him to a trot. When he arrived at the market place, he dismounted and led Flíthaf to one of the water troughs kept ready for the mounts of the many Eorlingas who came to market each day.

He went from booth to booth and from tent to tent and let it be known that a new innkeeper was wanted at the White Horse Inn. Word spread quickly, as it is wont to do, not only what the Eorl of the Middle Emnet wanted, but that he was calling it by its old name, the White Horse Inn. Questions were bandied back and forth as to what it could mean, and by noon it was the talk of the town. In this, Humans are no different from Hobbits.

Finished with this first part of the work of finding a new innkeeper, Eodwine returned to Flíthaf, patted him lovingly, mounted, and returned to the Hall. Leaving Flíthaf with Léof, who had returned to the stables before him, Eodwine retired to his room for the morning, washed and changed, and waited until noon.

[Firefoot]

When Eodwine brought Flíthaf back to the stables after his ride, it was quite a while after his and Javan’s return, but Léof was still thinking on the end of their ride. What had possessed Javan to take off like that? It had been senseless, in direct opposition to his instructions to him. There was a reason that they had been going slowly through the streets of Edoras! It had taken Léof a bit to catch up with Javan, because Æthel had spooked at all the commotion, and by then the man that had helped Javan had disappeared and Léof’s initial burst of anger had been tempered with relief that neither Javan nor Herefola had been hurt, but he could not check the annoyance in his voice as he rode up.

“That was a stupid thing to do, Javan,” he said, “and I’m not sure why I should still trust you after a stunt like that.” Javan didn’t seem to know whether to respond in anger or shame. “Now, come on. Let’s get these two back to the stables.” Javan quietly consented, and Léof noticed that his mount up was considerably shakier than it had been earlier that morning. “That scared you a bit, didn’t it?” Léof asked. “Good. Remember it.” Without waiting he nudged Æthel forward, leaving Javan to follow after. The thought had briefly crossed Léof’s mind that he was being cruel and making the situation worse, not better, and that he might regret his actions later, but he also felt enough justified in his remarks that he made no move to amend his terse words. Nor did he look back over his shoulder to see what kind of looks Javan was giving him.

When they had reached the Hall, Léof had had Javan walk Herefola out and brush her while he did the same with Æthel. When they were put away, Léof finally felt that he had gathered himself enough to talk civilly with Javan. “I won’t tell Thornden or Eodwine about what you did earlier, although I’m not sure why. I like you, Javan. I want to be your friend – but I’ve been put in charge of you, too, and in charge of the horses.” He sighed. “Look, go ahead and take a break; I don’t have anything else for you to do right now. Come back around lunchtime and help me switch out the horses in the paddock with those we left in here and muck out the rest of the stalls.”

Really he had just wanted some time to think without interruption, and he had gotten it, though his thoughts were hardly less clouded than they had been, and now it was nearly lunchtime, when Javan should be coming back. He hoped that Javan had done some thinking as well, and might be willing to talk, though Léof wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. As he put Flíthaf away in his stall, he murmured, “Horses are so much simpler than people – haven’t I always said that?”

[Thinlómien]

It was a beautiful day, one of those days when sun was playing hide-and-seek in the sky filled with little white clouds. It was good to be outdoors, Modtryth thought, it was good to be walking the strees of the city of Edoras.

Modtryth was strolling with a big basket in her arms and little Lèodern at her heels. She had a small basket of her own. Modtryth had talked with Garstan and they both had thought that it would be good for Lèodern to see how a household was managed. They had agreed that every now and then Modtryth would take her to town with her, but she wouldn't be purposefully taught or made to memorise anything - after all, Lèodern was still very young. This was the first time Modtryth had taken the girl with her, but as she had promised to buy the girl honeyed dried apples she had been more than willing to come with her.

Lèodern was telling Modtryth about her morning and how she had seen a little frog outside the stables. She seemed little moved by the Eorl's news. In fact, she was more concerned about the fact that the frog had seemed to have lost one of his fingers. The girl's lively chatting was interrupted by a hostile-looking skinny bearded man who stepped on her and Modtryth's way. He paid no attention to the girl and focused his attention to the woman.

"You're not wanted here. Go to your wilderness, you Dunleding whore!" he spat.
"I'm in the service of Eorl Eodwine", Modtryth replied calmly. She didn't move.
The man took it as a challenge. His eyes narrowed and fists clenched. Modtryth casually hushed Lèodern behind her.

"I can't believe the Eorl has sunk as low as to hiring barbarians", the man snarled. Another man appeared behind him. He gripped his shoulder. "Thored", he said firmly, "do not offend the Eorl's folk. Even if they are Dunleding whores." Grudgingly the man called Thored backed away. His friend cast one disrespectful look at Modtryth before following him.

Modtryth continued walking, but Lèodern wasn't following her. ”Come on, Lèodern, there's no time for idling”, Modtryth said, but her tone was gentle. Obediently, the girl came to her and took her hand. Her little face was sligthly troubled. Modtryth felt suddenly uneasy. This was not Cnebba who was more than accustomed to this kind of interactions, but a girl several years younger and probably with little experience about brutish people. Well, someday she must learn to deal with them, Modtryth thought, though she would have preferred protecting the girl from such harms, she was so young.

”Lèodern? Does something trouble you?” she asked. The girl just shook her head. Modtryth sighed. If the girl didn't want to say it to her, she shouldn't force it out of her. Lèodern would tell someone later, if it continued to trouble her.

Lèodern was a difficult case to Modtryth. Modtryth was fond of the gentle but spirited little girl. Most of the time she was affectionate to Modtryth. She seemed to enjoy her company and come to her to tell about her day or to ask something pressing her mind or something trivial. Sometimes, though, she was sullen and din't want to talk with her. Sometimes she didn't want to share her concerns with her. Modtryth suspected it had something to do with her mum missing. Modtryth believed Lèodern didn't want her to replace her mum. That was quite understandable. Modtryth wondered what had happened to Lèodern and Garmund's mother. She hadn't asked Garstan or his children about it. If some of them wanted to tell her some day, she'd be interested to hear it, but she wouldn't be fishing for the information.

~*~

Modtryth and Lèodern arrived at the beekeeper's shop. Modtryth bought candles and honey and the honeyed apples for Lèodern. As that was their last affair in town, they turned to walk back to the Mead Hall. They walked in silence. Lèodern was eating her sweets and Modtryth's mind was occupied with thoughts of the Eorl's moving and all the changes it would bring.

”Modtryth?”
”Yes?”
”Why did they call you that?”
”Why did they call me what?” Modtryth asked. She didn't feel like explainng the word ”whore” to the little girl nor to teach her the word by simply saying it was an ugly word used to offend a woman.
”A Dunleding. Why did they call you that?” She seemed angry.
Modtryth turned to face the girl. ”Because they probably thought I look like one.” Impulsively, she crouched so that her eyes were on the same level as Lèodern's. ”They were right, in a way”, she told the girl, ”I'm a half-Dunleding. My mother, she was a Dunleding.”

There was disbelief in the girl's big blue eyes when they met the woman's dark brown ones. ”You can't be”, she said, ”I've heard Dunledings are filthy barbarians. And dad said they wanted war with us.”
”I doubt they are any filthier than Eorlings. I don't think they are any more barbarians than we are, just different. And I'm sure not every Dunleding wanted war with Rohan.” Lèodern's eyes remained slightly doubtful.

”Lèodern. I'm an Eorling and porud of that. There is also Dunlending blood in my veins and I'm not ashamed of that either.” Suddenly Modtryth realised she really meant those words. There must have been mirth or triumph in her eyes, for Lèodern's face broke to a responsive smile.
”Come on, let's go now”, Modtryth said and they continued their way to the Eorl's hall.

~*~

They were already in the Mead Hall grounds when Lèodern stopped abruptly.
”Modtryth?”
”Yes?”
”Does that mean Cnebba is a Dunleding too?”
”He is three fourths a Rohanian”, Modtryth replied instinctively.
”Bu then he is part Dunleding?” Lèodern pressed.
”Yes”, Modtryth admitted. There was little point in trying to hide the facts. She had just declared she was not ashamed of her Dunleding roots. Should she then be ashamed of those of her son?
”Good”, Lèodern concluded. ”I want to see him now.”
Modtryth was confused and curious. ”Actually, I need to talk with him as well. I'll come with you to look for him, but first we must take these baskets to the kitchen.”

Luck favoured them. Cnebba was in the kitchen, chewing a carrot or what was left of it. Kara was also in the room, arranging some bottles in the corner. She greeted the newly arrived and then glanced at Cnebba. ”He said he felt like eating something so I gave him a carrot”, she told the boy's mother. She didn't say it as an excuse, merely stated a fact. Modtryth smiled and nodded. That was something she liked in the young woman.

Lèodern had moved to sit beside Cnebba at the kitchen table. ”Cnebba”, she said solemnly, ”I know you're a Dunleding, but you're still my friend.” There was a moment of awkward silence. Suddenly, Modtryth burst laughing and soon Kara was laughing too.

”Why are you laughing, mum? What's so funny?”, Cnebba demanded, his ears red. Lèodern looked puzzled, but there was a smug smile on her pretty face. Modtryth looked at the children fondly and shook her head. ”Never mind, my dear”, she said softly, ”never mind.”

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna was on her knees with scrub brush in hand, cleaning the hallway floor just outside the kitchen. Cnebba and Kara were keeping up a lively banter, and Rowenna doubted that they knew she was there. This suited her.

Two others came into the kitchen through the alder court door, Modtryth and Léodern as it turned out.

”Cnebba”, said the girl with sudden seriousness, ”I know you're a Dunlending, but you're still my friend.”

Rowenna stopped scrubbing. It was a curious thing to have said; surely there was a story behind it. Modtryth was dark of skin and brown of eye, which was of course unusual in an Eorling. She was Dunlending? It must be! But that was a small matter set beside other considerations. The outlaws she had been forced to live with were an odd mix of many folk, and all of them barbaric whether Eorling, Dunlending, or Gondorian.

Suddenly the two women broke into laughter. How odd, Rowenna thought.

”Why are you laughing, mum? What's so funny?" That had to be Cnebba. He sounded very unsettled.

”Never mind, my dear, never mind.”

But the boy would mind, especially if it was adults who were laughing at him. Even if they weren't laughing at him, how was he to know better?

Rowenna filed the moment away in her mind and went back to her scrubbing.

[Folwren]

With a shamefaced attitude, Javan left the stables when Léof dismissed him. He did not try to explain himself, he did not try to apologize. He was thankful that Léof decided not to report his behavior, but he felt somehow crushed when Léof sent him away. Javan knew that Léof had a right to be angry. Although Javan had not meant for his horse to spook and take off, he was still at fault. He went to extremes to avoided Thornden and Eodwine and therefore saw no one else as he slunk quietly up to his room. He did not want to be stopped and questioned about not being in the stables.

The remaining hour in the morning passed slowly for the boy. He paced quietly in the room between the door and the window. He used the time as Léof hoped he would - thinking. He had nothing else to do.

When enough time had passed and he figured lunchtime was drawing near, he once again slipped out of the bedroom and headed quickly for the stable. He knew what he had to say and what he had to do. He only hoped he’d be allowed to do it. Léof was a patient and quiet fellow, though, Javan told himself: he’d surely hear him out.

“Léof?” he said when he entered the stables. Léof popped out of one of the stalls immediately. Javan walked forward, tentatively wrapping his hands one about the other. “Léof, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have disobeyed. I didn’t mean for her to spook and run like that, and I was about to stop her, but. . .I should have stopped her sooner...when you told me to.” There was a short pause and Javan looked down. “Thanks for not telling Thornden or lord Eodwine.”

---------------------------------
Thornden

Thornden had kept busy all of that morning in the armoury with Garwine. Together they surveyed all of the weapons and if any of the blades of the swords of spears had any rust or signs of it, they cleaned and oiled them carefully. They took the bows down from the wall and oiled the strings. It was a long, meticulous job, and by noon-time the two men were hungry with long hours of it.

“You have the last one, Garwine,” Thornden said as he placed a spear on the brackets. “I’m going to go see how lunch is coming. When you’re done, you can follow.”

“Aye,” Garwine said, glancing up and waving his cloth absently. “I’ll be out shortly.”

Thornden went through the Great Hall to the kitchen. He passed Rowenna in the hall, stepped carefully around her work, and entered the kitchen. Lunch was not entirely ready yet and Fordides did not let him linger there for long.

“We won’t work faster with you looking over our shoulders. Get out and wait with Master Falco!”

“Master Falco?” Thornden repeated. “Is he still here, then?” He did not wait for an answer (and he would not have received one) as he left the kitchen by the outside door. He walked across the courtyard towards the alder tree where, sure enough, Falco sat, placidly smoking his pipe. “Good morning, Mr. Boffin!” Thornden said, stopping beside him. “I thought for sure you would be well on your way to the Shire by now. What happened to your well laid plans of leaving immediately after second breakfast?”

“Léof was not in the stable,” Falco answered.

“Oh, what an unfortunate pity. I guess you’ll be staying at least for lunch, then?”

[littlemanpoet]

“Oh, what an unfortunate pity. I guess you’ll be staying at least for lunch, then?”

"Aye, that I will," said Falco, taking another draw on his pipe. "But I've been having second thoughts. Traveling alone ain't wise, even now with the king's peace. Outlaws and ruffians don't truck with the king's peace, or anyone else's but their own, if you take my meaning, and I don't want to fall in with any such, mark my words."

"Does that mean you'll be staying a while past lunch?" Thornden asked.

"Aye, most like a bit past lunch, like a few days maybe. I'll need to find out if anyone's going west and north so's I can tag along, if they'll have me."

[Folwren]

“Oh,” Thornden said. “Oh, I see. Well, master hobbit, I think it is a very wise decision. I never liked your way of running off on your mad-cap adventures without thinking first.”

“Well, I have thought first," Falco said rather haughtily. "And this is not a mad-cap adventure.”

“No, but it would have been if you had left on a second’s notice and with no one to go with you,” Thornden replied, smiling. “But tell me, Falco. . .” he sat himself down on the grass at the hobbit’s feet. “Why are you going? Really? I can not believe that simply ‘hearing the call of the road’ would lead you to leave all of us on such short notice as you originally intended. I mean, I can well imagine that you might be ready to go home, but I can not think of any real reason that you would want to be off at once, as you were telling us this morning at breakfast.”

He did not add that he also had not believed him that morning...that is why he had spent all of his time without worry in the armoury, polishing swords without giving second thoughts to Falco or saying farewell. But this he kept to himself, and only looked with a fond smile the hobbit while he waited to be answered.

[littlemanpoet]

"Ah that bit was just fun and games," Falco replied with a wink. "But truth to tell, I've been thinkin' on it for a good month now and-"

Falco stopped and glanced as the kitchen door opened: Rowenna came out with a half empty bucket. She nodded to the Eorling and the Hobbit as she lugged it around the corner of the kitchen and out to the well.

"-and, well, I guess I'm homesick. I want to see Hobbits again. My own kind, if you like. I'm gettin' a bit tired of craning my neck to look up all the time just to see a face."

[Folwren]

Thornden listened quietly to the hobbit give his reasons and he nodded with understanding. “I see your point, Falco,” he said when he had finished. “It won’t quite be the same without you and we’ll miss you. Even I will,” he added.

There was a silence between the two of them. Thornden, with his arms clasped about his knees looked around the courtyard absently. Falco continued smoking his pipe, staring out as well. Then another detail of the morning’s conversation came back to Thornden and he looked again at Falco.

“I say, Falco,” he began. “What was it you had in your pocket this morning? That Eodwine asked about and that you wouldn’t answer?”

[littlemanpoet]

"Nothin' at all," answered Falco, smoke escaping from his mouth. "An' jus' what is that s'posed to mean, 'even I'll miss you, Falco'? Did you want ta see me off? Is that it?" Falco rose indignantly and faced Thornden.

"Maybe I'll just stay an' bother you, if me bein' here bothers you that much. Good day!"

Master Falco Boffin turned on his heel and stomped away from Thornden toward the Hall. He noticed Rowenna coming back around the corner.

"And tell the cooks that I'm expecting lunch as long as you're goin' in there with that bucket!" He gave another cold glance at Thornden and mumbled, "'Even I will.' Hmph!" He opened the door to the great hall and shoved it closed with a slam.

Rowenna had stopped to stare, brows raised. "What was that all about?" she asked.

[Folwren]

Thornden turned his head to watch Falco storm off into the hall. His eyes were wide with surprise and his mouth gaped open slightly. When he turned to face Rowenna, his expression was just as clueless as hers.

“What was all that about?” she asked him.

Thornden pushed himself up and rose to his feet. “I’m not rightly sure,” he said, walking towards her. “Evidently I offended him, though I certainly didn’t mean to. I only told him I’d be sorry to see him go and then I asked him about something. Evidently he doesn’t want to answer.” He paused, pondering it a moment in silence. “Eh, well,” he continued, looking at her and smiling a little. “It doesn’t matter. I can carry that water for you.” He extended his hand, offering to help.

[littlemanpoet]

"Save your gallantry for the maid you plan to marry," Rowenna said with a smiling mouth, and entered the kitchen carrying the bucket herself. She was not about to owe anyone anything.

She had overheard their conversation and found it odd that Thornden had decided that Falco had not answered his question about the pockets, for she had heard the hobbit say "nothin' at all'. But some people just couldn't hear others rightly, no matter what they said. It was interesting that Thornden and the Hobbit just did not get on well. She wondered if the Hobbit did it on purpose, or if Thornden did? Or did they merely stumble over each other badly all the time? The probably didn't understand each other at all. If the Hobbit truly was staying, that would be a valuable piece of information to keep handy. Even if the Hobbit left, it still could be useful to know that this Thornden sometimes said things he didn't realize he was saying, and that he sometimes did not hear things said to him at all. Not that the young man was a dolt or something, she supposed; maybe he just missed some signals. Not a good trait in an almbudsman. At any rate, Rowenna would of course keep her eyes and ears open.

She went to Kara and said, "I can continue to wash the floor if you wish, or is there something else you would rather have done?"

[Folwren]

He had only tried to be a gentleman…to be helpful. His extended hand remained there moment, alone in the air while Rowenna swept like a victorious queen into the kitchen, her head held high and her brown hair tossing. Thornden flexed his fingers as he drew a sigh and then he dropped his hand by his side and laughed.

“Save my gallantry for the maid I marry, eh?” chuckled he to himself. “If every maid told me so I guess I would never marry, for they’d all think I was bound to go after someone else.”

“By heaven, though,” he muttered to himself, sobering quickly and turning to the great hall door. “People seem easily offended today…and if not offended at least defensive. What did I say wrong to Falco, anyway? Can’t he take a joke?” Thornden knew he wasn’t witty…he never had been, but Falco often seemed to find amusement. That is, Thornden supposed, when he wished to. He made a wry smile. “Next the little fellow will be wanting me to apologize to him. Not likely.” And when he came through the great hall door, he was frowning with the thought.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine hoped that his morning's work would bring a possible innkeeper or two, or even three, to the mead hall, even during lunch. Now that he had resigned himself to making the move the king required, he was beginning to look forward to it, and wanted to accomplish the thing.

He straightened his breeches and shirt as he prepared to leave his room, and thought upon the roles that would need to be filled at Scarburg. Frodides and Kara would cook, Modtryth and Rowenna would clean, Ginna would serve. Garstan would do stonework, Stigend carpentry, Thornden almbudsmanship, Leof ostlery, and his men at arms, not least of them Garwine, would do their duties. Trystan and Saeryn were long gone, but at least not together, Eodwine hoped. He thought that he could get one of the Smith brothers to come with him. What of a hostess? He still had no wife, nor knew any woman who remotely seemed right. So maybe the hostess role would have to go unmet.

He came down the stairs and almost ran into a frowning Thornden.

"What ails you, Thornden?"

[Folwren]

Thornden and Eodwine met unexpectedly just inside the door and at the bottom of the stairs. Thornden stepped back and looked at Eodwine apologetically.

“What ails you, Thornden?” the eorl asked at once.

Thornden’s frown deepened by the slightest degree. “Nothing, really,” he said. “Nothing of significance, that is.” Then his expression cleared almost entirely, and though he did not really smile, he was no longer frowning. “You may be interested to know that Falco is staying for a few days yet. I may have actually unwittingly talked him into staying for good...so that he could continue bothering me, as he put it.”

[Kath]

Kara had spent much of her morning since Eodwine's impromptu council had broken up in the kitchen with Cnebba, who had proved to be a most amusing companion. He'd sat himself on a stool and had been regaling her with tales of the adventures he'd had shearing the sheep in return for morsels of food, for he always seemed to be hungry. It was a worthwhile trade though, and Kara couldn't recall a more pleasant morning.

It was with good will then that she had begun to laugh after conversation between Leodern and Cnebba, in which Leodern clearly had the upper hand if Cnebba's face was anything to judge by. His confusion made him angry though, and as his little face began to turn red Kara quickly tamed her mirth and a meaningful look at Modtryth had her hiding her smile as well.

"What's wrong Cnebba?" She asked, facing the boy and passing him another chunk of cheese as a peace offering.

"Nothing." He replied moodily, kicking his feet against the stool.

"Oh? But you were so happy a minute ago and now you've gone quiet on me. Was it something that Leodern said?"

Cnebba shrugged, his eyes still resolutely fixed on the floor.

"Because if it was maybe you should think about what she said for a minute. I don't know what brought it on but it seemed to be that what she said was a good thing. She wants to be your friend! Isn't that right Leodern?"

Cnebba looked up for long enough to see the little girl nodding earnestly at him, her eyes wide and innocent, and some of the tension went from his shoulders.

"And if it was because we laughed, well, that was just because we were as confused as you! We weren't laughing at you Cnebba, do you know that? When people are in a good mood a strange thing can make them laugh, it doesn't mean anything."

There was silence for a few seconds as Cnebba seemed to work that through in his head. Finally his head came up and again he looked at Leodern.

"Well, I don't mind that you're a girl, you can still be my friend." The words were said in a challenging tone but they weren't cruel, and Leodern apparently gathered that as she broke out into one of her beaming smiles and clapped her hands.

"Come on then!" She cried. "Let's go play."

Cnebba looked at his mother who nodded her assent and the two children ran off together into the yard, with all the worries of the past few minutes forgotten.

Once they'd gone Kara and Modtryth glanced at each other and broke into laughter again.

"Poor thing." Kara said. "What a thing to say to someone. Though I suppose to Leodern it made sense. Where did she get the idea from?"

Modtryth explained what had happened in the market place as she began to put away her purchases from that morning, finding a good listener in Kara who joined in in all the right places. She had just finished when Rowenna walked in and had Kara so incensed by hearing of the rudeness of the man Modtryth had met that it took her a few moments to calm down enough to answer the girl's question.

"I can continue to wash the floor if you wish, or is there something else you would rather have done?"

"Something else? I don't know if there is anything else. There are few guests at the moment and oh! But there's something you could do. The rooms that aren't in use will need cleaning and airing before new guests arrive to use them. If you have finished washing the floor then that would be a good thing for you to do."

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna thanked Kara for her orders, put away her bucket and brush, and went up to the guest quarters. On her way she passed Eodwine and Thornden talking just inside the Hall. She continued up the stairs and was soon out of earshot of the two.

"Bothering you?" Eodwine asked Thornden. "He said he wants to stay so that he can bother you? Maybe I need to have a long overdue talk with him. But it can wait until after lunch. Come! Let's sit and eat! And here comes Harreld!"

"Good day to you!" cried Harreld from the far door.

"And to you, Harreld! I didn't expect you until the evening meal! But surely you're welcome now too!"

Harreld looked bashful. "Well I don't usually eat here except at night, but the work is light and I wanted to have some peace from that brother of mine, don't you know!"

Eodwine smiled as Harreld joined them. He could think of another reason why Harreld might have decided to come to the Mead Hall more often than had been his wont. He looked to the corridor from which Ginna would eventually come with food and ale. A glance at Harreld indicated that the smith was looking in the same direction with the same expectation; although in the smith's case, maybe there was more to it. Eodwine shook his head. It would come to no good if Randvér didn't approve. He could put a stop to it, but he hated to ruin Harreld's hope, or at least the enjoyment he had in his friendship with Ginna. Eodwine feared the worst, but could not bring himself to save the two the trouble he foresaw.

[Folwren]

“Pappa! Pappa! I heard the Eorl of the Mid Emnet spreading word that he wanted an innkeeper for the White Horse Inn!” The young blond headed girl burst into the small house full of excitement. She ran forward and grabbed her father’s hand. “And he wants one quickly and for people to come and talk to him!”

Her father turned towards her, smiling kindly at his daughter. “What makes you suppose the eorl would want to hire an old man like your father – half blind that I am?”

“You are wise, for all your blindness,” the girl said, smiling in return. “And if the eorl knew what he was about, he would hire you, for he would find no better man.”

The elderly man laughed and turned back to his work with chisel and wood. “You over estimate me, daughter, and under estimate other men.”

“Please, Pappa!” the girl said, eagerly hopping up and down beside him. “Please go to him and at least ask if you might take the position! The worst he can say to you is no.”

The father put down his carpentry tools again and turned to his girl. “Fleide,” he said gently. “I am a man who works with his hands. A carpenter…I shape wood. I am not fit for the task of an innkeeper.”

“But you used to be more…when Mamma was alive, you know that. You can do it, if he will have you.”

He smiled again at her. “Fetch me my stick then, and we will go out, since you seem so bent on it. As you said, the worst he can say is no, and we will be no worse off than before.” Fleide smiled again and hurried away to the corner to fetch the smooth, carved cane her father used when he went out. Then together, the young girl and her grey haired father, started out into the streets of Edoras and towards the mead hall.

[Folwren]

Fliede and her father wound through the streets of Edoras to the Mead Hall. Before entering the courtyard, he turned toward Fliede and laid his hand on her shoulder. “I will be doing the speaking here, daughter,” he said.

“Yes, father,” she said.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself and start speaking for me in your excitement.”

“Yes, father,” she said again.

“The eorl will not need you to explain to him that I am blind or that I am smarter than I may appear or that he should choose me.” Fliede pressed her lips hard together and nodded firmly. He patted her shoulder gently. “Good. Come along, then.” They started forward, but at that moment, another man stopped them abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he said, making to push past them. Fliede looked upwards, offended.

“Excuse you indeed!” she said sharply. “We were here first, there’s no reason that we should step out of your way.”

“Your father should make way for better men than himself, girl,” the man replied with a disdainful look in her direction. “He’s used to it.” He looked at the blind man’s face and smiled unkindly.

“Oh, yes?” Fliede asked. “And what are you here for?”

“Come to enquire after the position of innkeeper.”

“Really. Have you?” She scowled in disgust, showing her anger clearly, but at the same moment her courage and hope failed slightly. The man was tall, handsome, young, and strong, and if the eorl saw him first, would he even spare a glance for her old father? “Well, I-”

“Hush, Fliede,” her father said. “You’ve spoken enough.” He looked up and cast his eyes in the direction of the stranger. The man laughed and shrugged and went in before them. Fliede and her father followed. They entered the great hall in time to hear the rude man address the gathering there.

“I am seeking for lord Eodwine. Is he here?”

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine, Thornden, and Harreld had begun work on the mugs of ale Ginna had brought out, ripping black bread into chunks, consumed with large cuts of cheese. Eodwine was enjoying his repast so much, eyes closed with delight, that he didn't notice someone standing by the table, waiting.

"Uh, Lord Eodwine!" Thornden said.

"Yes?"

Thornden motioned with his eyes. It was Rowenna.

"Lord, I am to freshen the rooms but yours is locked."

"The rooms be hanged, girl!" Eodwine cried, having had quite enough of seeing this girl do nothing but work from sun up to sundown; he was surprised she had not thinned so much as to blow away on the breeze. "Sit with us and eat and drink."

"But Lord-"

"Do as I say and enjoy yourself for a change, Rowenna, and that's an order if you like."

Rowenna's brow rose and she sat herself down opposite Eodwine, next to Harreld, who self-consciously moved his chair away an inch or two, looking over his shoulder at the hallway Ginna was likely to come out of at any moment.

"So tell me-" Eodwine was about to begin when he was interrupted by a loud voice issuing from the door to the Hall.

“I am seeking for lord Eodwine. Is he here?”

"I am he," Eodwine replied, rising and moving to meet him near the firepit. "Welcome to the Eorling Mead Hall. You are just in time for lunch. How are you called?"

[Nerindel]

Æðel chewed nervously on her lower lip as she fingered the fine parchment within her hand. She had been awoken abruptly that morning by a sharp brisk knock at the door and after ascertaining that it had not indeed been merely a manifestation of her dream she rose quickly. Hurrying into a robe she had opened the door and it had been a surprise to find one of the kings retainers, as she looked at him in his livery she had wondered for a moment if they ever slept or if they simply did so fully clothed, which of course was absurd as not a rumple or a crease was evident to say that that was true. It wasn’t until the young man coughed politely that she realised that she was standing in the doorway in only her night things staring. Suddenly self conscious and hoping her cheeks didn’t colour with the embarrassment she felt, she pulled her robe tighter. The young man at least had the decency, as was his place to look ahead at nothing as he lifted up the small silver tray in his hand, upon which sat the letter she now nervously fingered. If not for the fine script that clearly addressed the letter to

Miss Æðel,
Residence of the Healers

she might have thought the young man mistaken in his delivery. However before she had the chance to enquire as to whom the missive was from the young man was gone. She looked up the hallway in time to see him turn the corner away from the healers residences. …Residences of the Healers it made it sound grander than it really was. The truth of it was that the residences were no more than the two small rooms next to the healers hall that she and Hrethel occupied.

Closing the door and crossing to what under numerous scrolls, parchments and a stone pestle and mortar was a small writing desk, she slowly turned the folded parchment. Her legs almost giving out under her as she recognised the seal of the king. She dropped down hard on the wooden chair that was partner to the desk, her hand shaking as she fumbled to break the seal. why on earth was the king writing to her….what could she have possibly done to give the king of all people notice! her hands shook further as she slowly unfolded the page.

A summons…it was a summons! Her stomach knotted and her throat dried as she read on quickly, but it said nothing more, no explanation only that she was to present herself at the hour before noon bell, in the Kings study. Feeling herself begin to panic she forced herself to take a deep breath. It might be nothing, she thought forcing calm as she put down the letter and crossed to the dark wood closet that held her belongings. Perhaps Hrethel wanted her properly presented before releasing her back to Lord Eodwine’s service? She chose out the best of her cytel, a rich brown that matched her eyes with a clean white shift, but before she even had them laid out on the bed another thought came to her.

Only a month ago she had disobeyed Hrethel and rode beyond the city in the hopes of doing a service for her benefactor, Lord Eodwine. But as with most things, not all had gone as she planned, infact none of it. She had barely left the city behind when she came upon two exhausted and terrified farm girls on a tall roan. It seemed that their farm on the boarder lands of the traitor Sorn had been attacked and their father had sent them to get help. After settling the youngest girl on her mare she had sent the older girl on to get the help her father had sent her for.

By the time she and the younger girl had reached the farm the excitement was all but over, the bandits or whoever had set about the farm had been killed or run off and now the farm hands with some of the local freeholders where helping to put out the fires. Several young men had been wounded including the girls father, she was kept busy attended their wounds and listening to anger and unrest as they awaited the arrival of the help the king would surely send. It seemed that since the removal of Lord Sorn many of the border farms on his land had suffered losses, mostly livestock and grain. This had been the first real attack and all eyes look beyond the border and to the hills , “they’re growing bold!” one man had muttered angrily.

Hama had come with fifteen men, they questioned everyone including her thoroughly, checking and burning the attackers bodies before sending her back to Hrethel who reprimanded her soundly, by setting her to scrubbing pots in the kitchen and forbidding her from going to Eodwine’s hall till she could prove herself trustworthy. An odd thing seeing as how every day since she had been allowed back to the farm to check on her patients and every evening over supper Hrethel would listen as she voiced her concern over the growing unrest. She pitied the Lord that was chosen to take over those lands, for he would have a job gaining the trust of those people, who to her were rightly feeling abandoned and unprotected.

Had Hrethel gone to the king with her concerns? What had she been thinking speaking so openly! But Hrethel was a friend and loyal to the king, he knew nothing of why she wished to remain unassuming and unnoticed… or did he , there had been questions… How long had she served in the healers halls in Minas Tirith?… And at what age?….. And why so young?….. And many others aside and although most she answered honestly there were others she had most definitely skirted around. But none of this was getting her anywhere, only knotting her stomach tighter and causing a dull ache at her temples. Perhaps Hrethel could tell her more? Quickly she brushed her teeth with salt and soda, washed and pulled on both shift and cytle, before quickly braiding her dark hair and heading to the study were she had hoped Hrethel would be.

The old mans study had been empty when she reached it, though the morning meal had be brought. So she ate alone, pondering were the old man could be. In fact she didn’t see him all that morning, which was strange as he always seemed eager and excited to start new lessons with her. As she went about the usual morning tasks she began to wonder if he was purposely avoiding her, but it soon became clear that no-one had seen him that morning not even Verin Hrethel’s maid, but by the time she had discovered this there was no time to worry about it as the appointed hour was almost upon her. And how she now stood a short distance from the kings study biting her lip nervously fingering the fine parchment hoping to find some last clue as to why she had been summoned.

“Miss Aeol!”

She started at the address and looking up quickly stuffing the parchment into her pocket. The voice was that of Tayn Farn one of the kings guard he was a tall fellow at least ten years older than her but still seen as young amongst many of the other guards, his golden straw hair showed under the helm that he wore and he always had the rugged look of one who forgot to shave that morning but it suited him and she had seen many a maid eyeing him when they thought no-one was watching. He was handsome she gave them that but he was also stern and very dedicated to his work. Any woman that thought to be his wife would have to realise that she would always be second to his duty. A shame she thought as she nodded acknowledgement to his address. The love of a good woman might actually make him a little less stiff.


“The King is Expecting you.” he said stiffly as she reached him.
Taking a deep breath she steadied herself “I'm ready.”
Tayn nodded a quick understanding before knocking on the large chestnut door and pulling it open for her.

[Folwren]

“I am Hameth, lord,” the man replied to Eodwine’s question. “And I came to offer you my services. I heard that you were seeking an innkeeper and I think I could be your man for it.”

Fliede , hearing the proud words from the doorway, smiled dryly and mimicked in her mind, ‘And I think I’m the man for it.’ She walked forward ahead of her father with confidence. He followed more slowly, but in such a manner than few could have known that he went forward in blindness. “You’ll have to learn manners before you’ll be fit for such a job, Sir Hameth,” she interrupted before the eorl could reply. “And learn not to run down older men than yourself and children. As an innkeeper, you’ll have to learn to be kind to all folk.”

“Forgive my daughter, lord,” her father said quietly. “She is hot headed and in her love for me she is rash and not altogether polite.”

He reached Fliede and stopped where she had, a few paces away from Eodwine and Hameth. In great dimness and uncertain shapes and shadows, he could see that both Hameth and Eodwine were looking at him.

"I am Norjm, sir, at your service, and this is my daughter, Fliede."

[littlemanpoet]

Not one, but two who wished to be innkeeper!

"I greet you, then, Norjm and Fliede, and Hameth," Eodwine replied, looking into the face of each of them in turn. He considered a moment, then said, "I will speak with Hameth first, in my room, while Norjm and Fliede take the hospitality of my hall." He turned and looked back at Harreld and Thornden who sat gawking. "Thornden! Please show this Hall's hospitality to these two fine Eorlingas. And Rowenna, see that Ginna brings them food and drink."

Thornden and Rowenna rose, and Rowenna disappeared down the hallway to the kitchen.

Eodwine turned to Hameth and gestured for him to follow the lord of the Middle Emnet to his rooms.

[Folwren]

Things certainly looked liable to change, Thornden realized as he stood up to obey Eodwine’s bidding. There would be little dallying about now if Eodwine hired an innkeeper immediately. They would be out of the present mead hall quickly and go on to the new holdings. Eodwine’s tidings that morning had seemed as though they could be yet far off and change might not be sudden. The morning’s work in the armory had helped set it back a little way, but now it appeared that that would not be so.

He approached Norjm and Fliede with a polite smile. “Come in, sir, and make yourself comfortable.” When he looked down at Fliede’s upturned face his smile broadened. He had not understood her attack upon the man Hameth earlier, but now as he stood near her and saw the hot flush still in her cheeks and a shred of temper still present in her eyes, he found himself amused. “Take a seat and shortly, Ginna will be out with something for you to eat.”

He stepped to the side and motioned with his hand. Fliede’s face cleared almost entirely and she smiled slightly in return. “Thank you,” she said. She waited until Norjm had walked on ahead of her and then she followed quietly behind him.

As they drew near to the table, Rowenna and Ginna arrived together from the corridor to the kitchen, bearing food and drink for the two newcomers. Fliede and Norjm seated themselves near Harreld and Thornden sat down in his original place.

“Have you come to seek the innkeeper position, too?” he asked Norjm after a moment of silence.

“I have. My daughter encouraged me to come. I think lord Eodwine will find his man in Hameth, however,” Norjm said, speaking what he truly believed. “He will be more fit for the job.”

“It’s not true,” Fliede said, her temper roused again.

“Fliede,” Norjm said sternly, and with annoyance entering his patient face.

She shut her mouth firmly on further words, but Thornden caught the keen look of impatience in her face.

“Forgive me, sir,” Thornden said, “but may I not ask your daughter what it is she has against this Hameth?”

“If you wish,” Norjm said mildly.

“He stopped us outside the hall here,” Fliede said at once. “And he made father stop and said that he should be used to making way for men better than himself. And he isn’t better than my father - for father hasn’t done anything wrong in his entire life, and just because he is half blind doesn’t mean that he’s a beggar or is unworthy or any such thing.”

Thornden turned his eyes from Fliede to her father with surprise. He had not guessed that the elderly man was partially blind.

“That would explain what you said earlier, then,” he said, lookig back at Fliede.

“Aye. I just hope the eorl has eyes to see what an incompetent, rude, and overbearing chap he has with him now.”

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine led Hameth back into the Hall. It had been a good talk. The young man had promise. He bid him good day and to return in two days for news. Hameth walked out of the Hall with a spritely step; but Eodwine noticed that he said nothing to the others sitting at table before he left. Maybe it was nothing. He had seemed rather confident, maybe too much; but young men were like that, and if he had the skills, maybe he would do.

Eodwine walked over to the table where Thornden had sat with Norjm and Fliede, and smiled.

"I trust that my almbudsman has given you good hospitality." He turned to look Norjm in the eye. "Shall we go to my rooms, Master Norjm?"

"Can I come too?" cried the girl.

Eodwine grinned but shook his head. "I fear that if you came your father might not get to speak for himself." The girl opened her mouth to protest but Eodwine raised a hand. "Surely you would say only the best and truest of your father, but I must hear it from his own lips. My friends here will keep you company." He looked to Norjm again. "Shall we go?"

[Lhunardawen]

Ginna went back to the kitchen after leaving food and drink and Rowenna with the two newcomers. So soon had some expressed interest in being the new innkeeper! Ginna took no thought of how they came to respond so quickly, but that surely they would be relocating soon.

She still could not help wondering, just like that morning, if Harreld already knew about it, and whether he would stay or leave. Well, someone had to stop speculating and start getting answers.

"Ginna, are you not hungry yet?"

She turned to Kara, who was taking out dishes for their use. "Go on ahead, I'll be right with you," replied Ginna, and hurried back out of the kitchen.

Rowenna was nowhere to be found. The little girl was in rather deep conversation with Thornden, and Harreld sat listening to them. He immediately sat up upon seeing Ginna approach him.

"Harreld, will you come with me? I need your assistance."

Thornden looked at Ginna, apparently overhearing her request. "Do you have need of another to help you?"

"No, thank you, one will be quite enough. Besides, someone needs to keep-" Ginna motioned towards their young companion.

"Fliede," the girl supplied.

"-Fliede company. A pleasure to meet you," Ginna added with a smile. "Please excuse us."

She led Harreld to the alder tree court, which she found, with relief, they had to themselves. Still, she kept her voice low, without quite knowing why she felt the urge to be secretive.

"I think you're already aware of what's going on, why Eodwine is looking for an innkeeper. Of course I will be going with him when he leaves. How about you? Do you think he would ask either you or Garreth to come with him?"

[littlemanpoet]

"Aye, I have heard it in talk this noon at table."

Harreld watched Ginna's face, looking intently up at his own. She had come right to the point! She liked him enough to want him to go to Scarburg. Did this hint at more? Might she want to be his wife some day? What would Garreth say? Maybe it was unfair to leave his brother alone. Should he deny himself this hope for Garreth's sake? All these thoughts rushed through his mind in a moment.

"If Lord Eodwine would have me, I would be his smith at Scarburg."

Her face lit up with hope and she reached for his hand.

But I must speak with Garreth first, he said to himself. He knew he should say the words aloud, but he could not bring himself to say anything that would dim her happiness. He reached up and took her hand in his, and his face twitched into a smile. Maybe his hesitations were not noticed, maybe they were; either way, he did not think of how they looked to her.

[Folwren]

Norjm smiled at the eorl’s words to his daughter. “I fear that if you came your father might not get to speak for himself.” From pure experience with his daughter, Norjm knew she would have a reply to that, if only to promise that she wouldn’t speak at all, but she said nothing. Eodwine had probably stopped her, for he continued a brief moment later. “Surely you would say only the best and truest of you father, but I must hear it from his own lips. My friends here will keep you company. Shall we go?”

Norjm stood up, knowing, rather than seeing, that the last had been addressed to him. “Yes, lord.” He picked up his cane and moved about the table. Eodwine turned and led him away.

Fliede sat back down and picked up her fork again. “I would not have said much,” she told Thornden and Harreld with a pitiful and extremely innocent look on her face. “I really would not have.” Thornden struggled hard to keep his face straight. Fliede looked at him and looked mildly taken aback at his expression of humor. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I would hardly know, miss,” Thornden said. “I just met you.”

“But so has lord Eodwine and yet he already seems to know I chatter like a magpie.”

“Well, if you say so yourself-”

“But it’s not entirely true! And I would have not said too much if the eorl had asked me to be quiet.”

Fliede would likely have gone on, but at that moment, Ginna reappeared in the Hall. She asked for Harreld’s assistance and the young smith rose immediately. They left Thornden and Fliede alone with a few added words and for a minute, there was a silence in the hall.

“She said pleased to meet me and I do not even know her name therefore...it could not have been a real meeting,” Fliede commented to her lunch and this time, Thornden couldn’t help but laugh.

[Lhunardawen]

"That's wonderful, Harreld."

With her hand in his, Ginna could not help smiling contentedly. She did not realise how much she had been holding out hope until she heard his assurance. For some reason, however, she could not suppress a nagging worry - not that Lord Eodwine would not have need of him, she felt almost certain he would, but...

Oh, stop it, Ginna, she chided herself.

"I think we should go back now. Kara's waiting for me." Harreld nodded and let her go.

Ginna tried to wipe away the smile from her lips as they returned to the Hall, for she was not quite prepared to explain its presence should it be noticed. When they reached the table Thornden was laughing, apparently at something Fliede had said. As Harreld took back his seat, Ginna looked at the little girl.

"Here's your companion, I bring him back with my thanks. But it seems you have managed well with just Thornden here. Oh," she exclaimed with sudden recollection, "my name is Ginna, by the way."

[Folwren]

Norjm followed the eorl quietly out of the hall, through a doorway and up a staircase. His cane bumped quietly on the first stair. The shadows here were thick, and Norjm could see nothing.

Eodwine led Norjm to his chamber. The door to the private room was closed. Eodwine invited Norjm to sit at the small table. Once both were seated opposite each other, Eodwine began.

"Thank you for coming today. I do need to have an innkeeper soon, for the king has commanded me to remove to lands that he has granted me, and I need someone whom I can trust to hold this inn for me. Tell me about yourself, and why you want to be my innkeeper."

Eodwine wondered how bad his eyesight was, and if it would hinder his work, but he decided to hold his peace for now and hear the man out.

Norjm laid his stick aside and laid his hands on his knees beneath the table top. He looked back at Eodwine nearly squarely in the eye.

"I wish to be your innkeeper, my lord, so that I can give something more to my daughter than I ever can at present. For now, I am a mere carpenter, sir. I do what I can with my eyes as they are." He motioned vaguely towards his face. "I was not always thus. Before the Great War, I lived in the Westfold, under Erkenbrand. In a skirmish against orcs I was badly wounded."

Norjm sighed and turned his eyes towards the light of the window. "I don't want to burden you with my tale, sir. Suffice to say I lost most of my eyesight and much of my memory, as well as my position in Erkenbrand's company. I could not fight, and I could not advise. And war was happening quickly and men were always on the move. You remember, surely...

"Soon after the war and while I was yet recovering from my wounds, we came to Edoras and made what living we could. My wife died two years ago, and my daughter and I have been living as well as we could since. However..." And here he looked again and Eodwine and it would have been hard to tell that he could scarcely see him, so keen was his g lance, "Fliede deserves more. She is the one who asked me to come today. And it was for her only that I agreed."

There was a slight pause, and then Norjm spoke again, quickly. His voice was sharp. "I do not want you to feel sorry for me. I have not come to beg this position from you. You asked me to tell you about myself and why I came, and I have done just that, to the best of my ability. If the other man who came here is more worthy of the post - if he could hold it better - then by no means give it to me because you feel sorry for me. I will not accept such charity from you."

Eodwine leaned back in his chair and regarded the elderly man. It was a study in contrasts. One young and too confident, full of energy and little experience; the other old, having paid a heavy price for the wisdom of his years, almost blind and having experience in many things but not as an innkeeper. He hoped there might be others who would show interest, for he did not care for the possibility that his choice lay between these two. If it did, however, he leaned toward Norjm, for one reason only: his thought was for another's wellbeing rather than for his own gain. Well, there was a second reason: he felt akin to this man since they had both lost a wife. And he had to admit that there was a third reason: he liked the man.

"I have an inn that needs to be profitable," Eodwine said finally. "Whatever my thought of your story, I need a man who can do the job. Can you, with such bad eyesight as you have yourself said? And if you can, how?”

“I do not know for absolute certain if I can,” Norjm answered at once, and truthfully. He paused, seeming to hesitate, and then he said, “I would need help. More help than my daughter can give me. She can be my eyes, so far as seeing other men and people and what condition things are in, but she could not help me when it came to the money keeping and the books, if this job would require that. She cannot write well, for I have been unable to teach her that, and her mother died when she was yet learning.

“And I can not answer your question further unless you tell me more, or ask different questions, for I know little about innkeeping.”

Eodwine could not stifle a grin. "Truth be told, I know little of innkeeping either, and I was hoping to find someone to whom it would come easily. Someone who had run his own business, I was thinking." Norjm did not look encouraged by his words. "Of course, I knew very little of eorlship when I was given it by King Eomer the first of the year! So if my new innkeeper is the right man, whatever his background, well and good.

"But now, I would ask you-" Eodwine entered familiar territory, that of placing a small bit of responsibility in the one being tested, to see how he responded. "-what would you like to do now, in order to get a sense of what innkeeping is all about?"

Norjm looked downwards. In days gone past, when he could still see, he would have studied Eodwine’s face for any sign that his expression or eyes might give. But it had been many years since he could see any man’s face and he had grown accustomed to looking to himself for answers and not seeking cues or help from other men.

“If I could have what I wished at this point to get used to innkeeping, I would first like to know the enviroment – what room I had and what I would be in charge of. I would then like to know what is expected of me – what rules or guidelines I would have to live by. And after that.” What to say? He knew nothing. He couldn’t just say ‘I’d like to run the place for a week and see how it went’, the eorl needed to chose someone before then. “I don’t know.” He stood up, abruptly, feeling awkward and somehow ashamed. It was a ridiculous situation, he being blind and all and not knowing what was expected or what he would have to do. He should not have come. “I’m sorry. It would not be right for me to take the place of innkeeper. You need a better man than I. I would ask for a trial, but you need to choose before then. You can not give every man who comes to ask for this position a trial, and I realize that.”

Eodwine suspected that the man was right. He was unsure of himself, unable to see, and inexperienced. Why had he come? Eodwine smiled inside: because his daughter had persuaded him to.

"Norjm, I think you are right that you should not be my innkeeper. However, I will have much carpentry that will need to be done in Scarburg, and my man Stigend will need help. Someone who is skilled and is willing to be commanded is what I need. Would such a role suit you?"

Norjm sat down again as abruptly as he had stood. He couldn’t help it. The offer came unexpectedly, like a crack of deafening thunder out of an utterly blue sky. For a moment he could not answer, but inside his head there was only one thought - that this eorl deserved the lordship he had, for he was a good, noble man.

“My lord,” he said finally. “I accept with my whole heart, if you truly mean it. I do not know how skilled I am, but I am willing to be commanded. Ask anything of me. I am your servant.”

Eodwine smiled. He had not actually asked Norjm to be a carpenter, much less his man. It did not matter. Norjm was the kind of man, no matter his age, that Eodwine wished to call his liegeman and friend. He looked Norjm in the eye, still smiling.

"I hold court tomorrow. If you still want to be my man in Scarburg, come and I will you make bond with you." Eodwine rose. "Let us return to the Hall. You shall have lunch with me and my men today."

[Folwren]

Fliede did not quite know why Thornden was laughing, but before she could ask, Ginna and Harreld returned by the outside door.

“Here’s your companion. I bring him back with my thanks. But it seems you have managed well with just Thornden here.” Fliede opened her mouth to reply that she did not know what she had said so humorously and she had evidently been the one keeping Thornden amused opposed to the other way around, but suddenly Ginna exclaimed, “Oh! My name is Ginna, by the way.”

Fliede smiled broadly and stood up from the table. She dropped a quick curtsey. “It is nice to meet you, Ginna,” she said. She looked quickly from Ginna to Harreld, took quick stock of his slightly flushed face, and looked again at Ginna. “You like him, don’t you?” she asked. “That’s why you thanked me for his company.”

Thornden did not blame Ginna for looking slightly taken aback. Before anyone could make any sort of reply, Eodwine and Norjm came back into the hall. Fliede spotted them first and with a bright look on her face, she darted about the table and ran to her father. She stopped without touching him.

“Papa! What did he say? Has he decided?”

Norjm reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder as he continued to walk towards the long table. “We will eat lunch with him, for he has invited us. And tomorrow we will return here.”