Scarburg Meadhall

[Nogrod]

After lord Athanar sent Thornden away he fell into thoughts about the affair still standing on the highest step of the stairs. There was clearly something wrong and lord Faramund was not behaving as an eorling should. And he had his own ideas on the issue. But at the same time he was disturbingly aware that he needed proof of it. Maybe the ledger would give it to him, or that old man?

Suddenly he felt the general feeling change. Was it his call for Coen to make his men to look around?

No, it was definitively not that. There was more to it.

The five men Coen sent him came forwards asking for instructions. Athanar had thought of withdrawing inside to wait for Stedfast and to check the ledger just leaving two men outside to keep an eye on the situation, but now it was different.

"We might have trouble... You two", he said pointing at the the two last ones to arrive. "Go to the farther corner of the hall on guard. If you see anything out of the ordinary... call." The two nodded and went their way.

"You then... Blimring, go take guard inside. If anything moves there - other than the kitchen stuff - report to me immediately." Blimring nodded and climbed the steps going in the hall. "And you two, stand by me here at the steps, and keep your eyes open."

Before they could nod, Hilderinc reached them, panting. "Lord, Faramund's men are at arms, at their stables! They're clearly gathering about..."

That was bolder even lord Athanar had foreseen... well, more stupid... he thought to himself. But he had to take a moment to take in the information and to decide what to do.

"Tell Coen to gather the men and come here, fast. You should take a few men and go for the horses and that guy... Leif?"

"Léof, my lord", Hilderinc corrected.

"Yeah, Léof. Take the horses here as fast as you can. But first, to Coen." Hilderinc was about to take his leave when Athanar called him once more.

"And hey, do not run... we're not in a middle of a fight as yet and I do hope we will not be. So let's us not provocate anything. But be quick, will you?" Lord Athanar looked at Hilderinc in a compassionate way anyone looks at another person he has given an impossible mission.

Hilderinc nodded and turned around to leave just to crash on Steadford running towards them. "Go Hildernic", Athanar said firmly to the hesitating soldier and then turned to Stedford. He looked troubled, eying around him all the time. Finally he reached his arm and gave the ledger to Athanar.

"Here they are. I'm not sure if it is accurate though..." He said not daring to look at lord Athanar in the eye while saying it.

"Stedford" Athanar called him firmly, forcing him to meet his gaze while picking the ledger from his outstreched hand.

"Yes lord eorl", Stedford answered looking at Athanar now.

"How about lord Friduhelm?"

"He was keen to meet you lord Athanar, but he was afraid he had not the strength to come to meet you. But he asked you to visit him. He lives in a private cabin there behind the main hall."

Athanar nodded and thanked Stedford. Then he looked at him, at the same time both quizzically and concerned. "What do you think of your lord Faramund, in earnest? Is he a good man like his father was? I know you may not wish to answer this question... but would you?"

[Thinlómien]

"How did you know that you and Stigend were right for each other?"

Modtryth shrugged, surprised and not sure what to say. It was clear the girl needed comfort, but Modtryth could hardly decipher what exactly she wanted to hear and she knew sometimes it was best to tell the truth.

"At first, I didn't really know." There was a moment's hesitation when Modtryth considered what to say to her fellow maid. Despite Ginna's current status, she was a noblewoman born and bred. It doesn't mean she's stupid, Modtryth reminded herself wryly.

"As a maid and a half-Dunlending bastard, I got a lot of unwanted attention when I was young and unmarried. Not that I didn't have my ways of dealing with it," she added, softening her words with a bitter smile. "Some guys were more harmless, more sincere. When I first noticed Stigend, I have to admit I didn't think much of him. I had seen more handsome men, men more intelligent and more skillful. Not that he wouldn't have been attractive or talented, but he just didn't stand out. So at first, I had no idea."

Telling the story, Modtryth thought how much there was she never thought of, how much she had left behind. "But in time, I came to see him for who he was. He did not seek to take advantage of me - rather, he stood between me and those who had bad intentions, although it was not always necessary - nor was he just randomly infatuated with me. I realised he truly cared for me. And I will not lie to you - there never were too many people who did. My mother, of course, and I'm not trying to say I didn't have friends. But the people who could look at me without seeing an enemy were not many."

"But I don't wish to burden you with all this. Lord Eodwine and Lady Saeryn and all of you in their service have been so good to us that I keep forgetting how much my father's people still hates that of my mother's." Modtryth smiled. "Anyway, I guess I was trying to say that once I realised that Stigend would stand by me whatever happened I knew that my place was by his side wherever he went and that I had been a fool not to realise it earlier."

She made a pause, realising she had spoken for an uncharacteristically long time. There was something in Ginna that inspired trust, and she had asked. Modtryth held her tongue and refrained from adding anything about how you came to see things yet differently when you had been married for ten years. That was hardly what Ginna had asked, or what she wanted to hear.

[littlemanpoet]

The steward spoke insistently, saying that Athanar was not doing what it was so clear that he was. Faramund stopped, debating within whether to humble himself enough to have a debate with this man of Athanar's.

The steward spoke again. This time he used threats. Faramund turned, a ferocious smile on his face.

"I defend what is mine. If there is a fight here, it is because your lord attacked. Go and tell him that for me, and if he 'sees reason', then he will send you back to me that he will cease with his threats and-" Faramund lost control, and the youthful uncertainty that lay at the root of all he did leaped out. "Tell him to stop trying to trap me!"

The whole stable had quieted. Others were listening. Faramund felt a fool. His face went dark red. This could not be borne. He had to make it seem like rage rather than embarrassment. He gritted his teeth and glowered at Thornden.

"You threw me out of your hall! Tell me why I should have you thrown out right this minute!"

The fool youth just stood there. "Get out of here! Give my words to your lord! Go!"

[littlemanpoet]

"I - I will answer your question, lord. Faramund is not like his father. I do not know what makes him bitter, for lord Friduhelm has always been of a great heart. I do my duty by lord Faramund, for that is right, even when he does wrongly.

"But I have not said all that could be said, lord, if you will pardon me. You will find in this ledger much to show that my lord takes and does not give without price. He is a grasping man, and he drives a hard bargain, especially with those who have little to bargain with.

"Take Wiglaf, for example. He fell upon hard times for his lands dried and a poor crop came up, not enough to feed him and his family and stock. He came to Faramund seeking help. Faramund gave it, but for a price. Wiglaf's stock were to be his bond against failure to pay. Faramund gave him the grain he needed to survive, but Wiglaf has not been able to pay. So Faramund takes the bond.

"So you see, Faramund does nothing against the law, but his justice is cruel and has no mercy in it. Soon these free farmers will find themselves his chattel. I - I hope I have spoken enough for you to understand how it is here. I fear I may have said too much.

"These other lords, these friends of his, I don't think lord Faramund came by these ways on his own. I think he was taught them."

[Nogrod]

Athanar had hoped Stedford would have revealed something about his lord, but all this was just so much over to his anticipation. So for a while he just stood there his mouth open with the openness of lord Faramund's sergeant standing in front of him. But finally he was up to the changed situation...

"Tell me one thing Stedford, you know your lord better than I do, would he try anything desperate in a situation like this? Like trying to use force or a threat?"

Stedford glanced around and then returned his gaze to Athanar "I'm afraid he has already done that... he's... well... impulsive."

Lord Athanar was able to make the calculation; his observations about the feeling around the place added with what Stedford just said made for an outcome he recognised.

"This is important now as I wish to avoid any bloodshead... How is lord Friduhelm? Can he come here? Can he come here if someone aided him with no great risk to his health? Or would he be willing to take that risk?" He looked at Stedford intensively.

Stedford felt awkward, feeling like he was put in between the rock and the hard place, but after a moment he answered to his best knowledge. "He might not be able to walk, but he should be able to be moved..."

Lord Athanar thought it for a second. "'You give me hope Stedford... let me tell you I will not forget this." He looked at the young sergeant with a concerned smile. "Blimring!" he suddenly yelled to the soldier inside the hall. As he came to the doors Athanar turned to Stedford.

"I'm not intending to push you, but if you think Faramund is really able to act that recklessly; and if you love lord Friduhelm, king Eomer, the eorlinga, all the farmers... then you go with Blimring here and bring lord Friduhelm here as soon as possible. It maybe a question of minutes... Will you do that?"

Lord Athanar looked Stedford to the eye with all his authority - but it was no game-changer there as Stedford had clearly chosen already.

"I will do it."

"Praised be the gods for that..." Lord Athanar half whispered. Then he turned around. "Blimring! Follow the sergeant and do as he tells you!"

When Stedfast took the stride up the stairs past him, lord Athanar nodded to him approvingly. "I'm thankful to you for this Stedfast, and so is the king. I will make sure the king will hear of this..."

[Folwren]

"You threw me out of your hall! Tell me why I should not have you thrown out right this minute!"

Answers to this bounded plentifully into Thornden’s mind, but he kept his mouth firmly clamped shut. He stared down at Faramund and waited for his final word. It came in a burst of rage. “Get out of here! Give your words to your lord! Go!”

Thornden did not even incline his head in the slightest hint of a bow. He turned on his heel and went out, shouldering his way through the men standing there. He strode across the courtyard to where Athanar stood on the steps speaking with Stedford. As he drew near, Faramund’s steward was sent away.

“Lord Athanar, Faramund wishes me to tell you that he will defend what is his and he will fight you if you continue to press him. He demands that you stop trying to trap him and he asks that you send me back with word that you will no longer threaten him. This is what he said when I advised him against arming his men and pitting them against you.”

[Firefoot]

Even as Léof spoke to Quin he noticed that the Scarburg soldiers were beginning to gather up in front of the hall. Soon he saw Hilderinc with a couple of others break off from the main body and head towards them. “Maybe now we’ll get some news,” Léof said, nodding towards Hilderinc.

“Just orders, more like,” said Quin.

“Better than nothing,” said Léof.

It was not long before Hilderinc stood before them and said, “Lord Athanar wishes the horses be brought up to the main hall.”

Léof glanced over to where all the soldiers were milling about, then back down at Hilderinc. “But there is no place to tie all of them over there,” he said. “Half of your men will have their hands full holding onto horses – unless you mean for everyone to mount up now. But then it would probably be easier for the soldiers to come get their own horses over here, rather than us walking all the horses over there.”

[Nogrod]

Just as Stedford and Blimring left it was Thornden with the news.

Lord Athanar smiled briefly like he was happy about the news. "So that's what he says... so he's the insecure and aggressive child I thought he was... just like..." Suddenly his face got grim, almost terrified. Thornden was baffled.

Just like Wulfric and Wilheard... and they are there somewhere..., lord Athanar thought to himself with growing fear of his own reckless sons.

"Excuse me lord, is there a problem?" Thornden queried carefully.

Lord Athanar pulled himself together shaking his whole body to wrestle himself out of his thoughts. He had a situation here and he had to take care of his men's safety, not to sacrifice the others for the concern over his sons.

"Right... sorry Thornden..." Athanar said while recollecting himself. And then he was back to the present focus.

"Okay Thornden. Here's a mission for you." From the corner of his eye he could see the men of Scarburg starting to gather together and making it towards the stairs. "Take these two men of mine from here, and take a few from those you'll meet when going back there if you think you need more men or someone special. Go to Faramund and tell him this. He should not be afraid of me trying to take anything from him or trapping him, or of me threathening him. We wish to leave in peace. Don't mention the ledger" Athanar revealed the parchement-roll that had been in his hand behind his back, "unless he asks. Then you can tell him that I'm going to take a look at it - but that if he insists, I can take a look at it in the Mead Hall and send it back to him tomorrow. And don't mention his father either..." he lowered his voice: "he's coming... hopefully in time..."

Thornden looked confused.

"Hah, I guess I know what you're thinking... I'm showing myself as a coward to him pledging peace in front of his threads? Let me tell you, I have no problems in acting like a coward in front of a fool if it helps me to get the evidence to nail him in court and keep all my men alive. That's one thing you learn in the battlefield master Thornden... never lose your men if you don't need to, especially not because of vanity or pride. And even if he got that kind of thoughts into his head he'll be surprised enough to see us all mounted and in readiness to any move he wishes to make before he is able to execute them...."

"You mistake me, my lord. I think it is the right choice not to fight him if at all possible. But what shall you do with his father and with the ledger?" Thornden asked.

Athanar looked at Thornden into the eye and nodded. "Just take care of yourself Thornden. You'l learn that later... Anyway, you should go now. We don't have time to lose. I'll be in readiness to send a few men and your horses to get you back if there is any trouble. We will cover for you, you know that. Now go!"

He looked at Thornden into the eye and nodded. "Just take care of yourself Thornden. I'll be in readiness to send a few men and your horses to get you back if there is any trouble. We will cover for you, you know that. Now go!"

Thorneden nodded and turned to go back to meet Faramund once more.

"Frumgard! Bettelhird! Cover him!" Athanar called the two guards with him and the men followed Thornden.

[Mnemosyne]

Wynflaed sighed and took a few deep breaths once she had reached her and Athanar's room. For not the first time, she blessed her status and the privacy it afforded her. Her heart still pounded at the exchange she had had with Saeryn, though it had been pushed out by the holbytla's arrival. That she could not see the enemy in their midst, be Modtryth witting or no, stunned her and left her cold. Was it her youth that made her think so, or her coming of age in a time of peace, or the rule of her husband, who, fine eorl though he may be, let this Meadhall run itself more or less on its own?

For a moment, Wynflaed felt her age. More than that, though, she felt the absence of the company that she had come to rely on in Edoras--and especially her husband's company, though he might only be gone for the day. There were so few here to confide in, and none of them of a fitting station...

The easy camaraderie, too, of the entire kitchen once the holbytla had arrived, and the way the kitchen had seemed to let out pent-up breaths as she had departed...

She shook her head. There was nothing good to come of moping, and was she not a lady and an eorl's wife? It had been, and it was, an honour to accept this position; and there was still so much good she could do here, so many inefficiencies she could eliminate.

She left the room and made her way to the stables. Wulfric and Wilheard were with Athanar, of course, but Aedre was at the Hall, and thus was probably with her horse. The horse, and Aedre, were gone. Wynflaed smiled, but if she did not see her before sundown there would be harsh words.

With nothing else to do, she returned to the kitchen. She would learn more of this holbytla, and of the people and the land he came from.

[Folwren]

Thornden strode back towards the stables, the two men behind him. He looked perfectly collected on the outside, but inside his heart was beating a little faster than normal as he prepared himself for upcoming encounter. He highly doubted Faramund would be pleased to see him, and he hoped rather fervently that nothing rash would be done…that he wouldn’t get killed, namely.

He stopped outside. “I don’t want you coming in. It looks too…belligerent.”

“But lord Athanar said-” Frumgard began, but Thornden cut him off.

“I know what lord Athanar said, but I also know what lord Faramund said and is thinking, and I really think it would be best if I went in alone.” The two soldiers looked at each other doubtfully. “Just – stay here and wait, will you? I will not be long, and if aught is said to you of disobeying, I will tell Athanar that I commanded it.”

“Very well,” Bettelhird grumbled.

Thornden nodded and then hurried into the stables. There were fewer men inside now as many had already gotten their horses outside. He hurried through, seeking for lord Faramund, hearing muttered comments behind him from what men were still there. Finally, he found him, waiting for his horse to be bridled.

“My lord Athanar sends me to give you word that he has no intention of taking anything that is yours away, and that his intention is not to threaten you, but he means to leave in peace. He awaits your word that you will not attack his men.”

[Folwren]

"Now that's what has me puzzled," Falco replied to Saeryn, using his pipe as a pointer. "You're no longer the Lady of Scarburg; this here Lady Wynflaed is that. And as you're Eodwine's wife, it seems to me your duty is with him, way over yonder in Minas Tirith. Now I could be wrong, and forgive me if there's something I don't see, but that's how it looks the way my eyes see it."

Saeryn was taken aback. She shut her mouth with a clamp and calmed the sudden and fierce feeling of resentment and anger that sprang up. He didn’t mean it, she told herself. He didn’t understand.

“It’s not easy not being with Eodwine, Falco,” she said softly. “But you forget that Lord Athanar and his family and the new lady just arrived two days ago. Before that, I was the lady of the hall. And even now, I am not at liberty to just up and leave. When the lady Wynflaed has gotten fully settled in, perhaps then I may leave. . .” her voice trailed off as the door opened and the very woman in question entered the room. Saeryn looked at her, and then turned again to Falco. “Until that time, I cannot go, and that’s all.”

[littlemanpoet]

Faramund looked over Athanar's steward. The young man was speaking directly and not mincing words. Good. But that meant he had orders, and Faramund was not sure he dared to trust this Athanar's words. With a shrug he decided that it did not matter.

"If your eorl speaks the truth," Faramund said caustically, "then he will not be harmed by my men for we stand only to defend what is ours. He will see us mounted and holding a defensive position. You and your men are free to take your mounts from the paddock and go. We will not stop you. If you leave in peace, all is well between us. If not, then we shall see."

Faramund mounted his steed and gave Thornden one last look down his nose, then prodded his horse out of the stable.

[littlemanpoet]

Falco had assumed it had been longer than two days. They had been without their eorl for nigh on a month. Saeryn had been under much strain, then. He had spoken in haste and knew it, and he could see by the stiffness in her face and shoulders that he'd hit a nerve with his words. But she had not scolded him.

And here came the Lady of the Hall, back into the kitchens. Had she been listening in from just beyond the door? Well if she had, she might know a few more things than she had before. He would give her a show to remember.

He stood up and bowed low.

"Forgive my hasty words, Lady Saeryn. You are quite right. No doubt you have endured much in Eodwine's absence. And until that time, as you say, lady, I can stay here if you like, and accompany you to Minas Tirith, if you will have me."

[Nogrod]

Lord Atahanr followed Thornden with his eyes and nodded to himself in approval when he saw him dismissing the two guards he had sent with him. He's a man of honour and an eye for situations indeed, I've seen and heard enough of it...Valar be praised for that kind of men.

The men started to gather around him led by Coen, and he could see Hilderinc and Leof bringing forth the horses from behind them. The timing felt good... if Stedford and Blimring could just bring the old Friduhelm in time...

Hilderinc came forwards holding the reins of his steed and he took them nodding in approval. "Well done, Hilderinc." He was about to climb up but then turned back again to face his sergeant.

"What about the old man? Did you find him?", he asked Hilderinc.

"We got news he should still be around here my lord, but I haven't been able to spot him as yet..."

Athanar paused for a moment thinking heavily whether it would pay to get someone to look after him or whether it was a waste of men and time...

He glanced around to see most of the men of Scarburg already mounted and some of the Faramund's men as well in front of the stables facing them. There was a stady flux of riders pouring out from the stables and meanwhile his last men were getting their horses and mounting them. He looked back at Hilderinc.

"Okay... Take your place Hilderinc", he said to his sergeant quietly and turned to mount his steed. But before he did that he suddenly turned his gaze once more towards the stables, searching for Thornden and his men.

Frumgard and Bettelhird stood around the door to the stables and just then Faramund rode out from the stables. Thornded followed him suite on foot meeting the two soldiers behind lord Faramund who was taking his place in front of his men already monuted.

Lord Athanar managed to find Thornden's eyes from the distance and he nodded, carefully waving his hand rightwards. Thornden nodded back and started hurrying the two soldiers.

"Get Thornden's horse, and those of Frumgard and Bettelhird, to the right flank! Hurry!" he yelled to the men behind him. "Go for them!"

He eyed back to the situation in front of the stables and saw Thornden moving with the men away from the doorway, away from lord Faramund's men in between them and lord Athanar's men. He turned his gaze back to his own men and noticed a few going to meet them already. He nodded slightly, just to himself, and finally turned back to his horse to mount it.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Hilderinc could see the turn of events immediately as it came. Before he could find the man he was sent for, it became clear that lord Faramund was preparing something, men swarming all over the place and taking arms. Hilderinc would not have believed that somebody like Faramund would dare to push things as far as threatening his eorl, on the other hand, the old disillusioned side of him accepted this turn of events even with a kind of grim pleasure, as if that was something he had been expecting all the time. Nonetheless, the spirit of a soldier rose accordingly with the deep sense of duty at the same time, and he ran to report to Athanar, and then again followed his orders to bring the horses from Léof.

The young "stablemaster" seemed somewhat expectant, Hilderinc thought to himself that he clearly must have been agitated by the apparent unrest in the hall and courtyard. Only a blind man won't see that something is going on. But I am not sure about how much the boy is going to like it when something actually starts happening. Then he chased away the grim part of his mind which suddenly seemed to have surfaced with the dramatic turn of events, and quickly came to the two young ones guarding the horses.

"Lord Athanar wishes the horses be brought up to the main hall," he said curtly, not wishing to delay at the present moment.

"But there is no place to tie all of them over there," Léof replied, glancing over to where the soldiers were gathering. "Half of your men will have their hands full holding onto horses – unless you mean for everyone to mount up now. But then it would probably be easier for the soldiers to come get their own horses over here, rather than us walking all the horses over there."

Hilderinc followed the boy's gaze and realised that he was right. Good thinking, he thought, but possibly with bad timing. Hilderinc did not know Léof very well, but he assumed that the boy was rather bright young lad, and a bold one, too, as it seemed. The ability of good perception, to respond to certain situations and give the ideas of how to make things better was a virtue, but in Hilderinc's experience, not all masters were happy with this kind of behavior, especially in tense situations. Some just preferred to be obeyed, even if their stupidity led them to their end. During the years after the war, without even realising it, Hilderinc became comfortable with letting this kind of masters to do their own instead of risking to anger them with gainsaying. It was not out of fear that he was doing this, it was more like once again his hidden, suppressed, resignated side taking grounds at such times. Anyway, his thoughts were that if Léof's life was to be that of a servant, it won't be always for his best to act like he just did. A wise and experienced man should recognise when it is good to suggest something to your superior and when to shut up, but for the young one, it was better to stay safe and just obey until he learns to judge his masters better. Especially since the young ones were the most prone to ride against the wind, whatever the circumstances. Hilderinc was convinced that Léof was not mature enough yet to read his superiors' reactions. However, Hilderinc's intention was not to give lectures to him about that just now.

He looked into Léof's eyes. "There is no time for the soldiers nor for us running there and back again fetching them. Take a few of those," he turned to the men who were with him, pointing at the horses, "and let the men mount over there. Then, we will call the rest of the soldiers and mount here. But quick! Quin, help them, and then get your own horse."

The men hurried to fulfil his order, and Hilderinc briefly addressed Léof before following them too. "You stay here until the rest come for their horses, then you will join us. I will take care of lord Athanar's steed, you watch over master Thornden's horse before he comes back. And," he added, glancing back as he parted, "stay out of the harm's way."

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine had risen from his couch. He strolled, hands clasped behind his back, along the wall, the wind blowing strong, looking south and east and north. He was feeling much better than he had when first he had awakened.

But it was cold. He was wearing a cloak, fur lined, and hugged it around himself. It was a wind from the south. Though cold, it held the promise of the Sea, and Eodwine thought that he could catch the salt scent of it, even these many leagues north of it. It was invigorating.

He heard footsteps behind him and a polite cough. He turned. It was the Master of the Houses of Healing.

"Good afternoon, sir," Eodwine said.

"I see you are up," the Master said meaningfully.

"Yes! I'm feeling quite well!"

"That is good," nodded the elderly man, his hands folded before him. "Do remember that you woke just this morn after a long illness, and you are mending."

Eodwine smiled. "Yes, I know. Be careful, do not rush things. You wish not to have to care for me, sickened after a brief moment of health."

The Master smiled beneficently. "Good. You understand. But that is not why I have come to you. The King has heard of your wakefulness, and invites you to sup with himself and the Queen this evening, if you feel well enough. I think it perhaps unwise, as it seems to rush things, but the King's will is the King's will. I am required to tell you that you may refuse if you do not feel well enough."

"I would be honored!" Eodwine said.

[littlemanpoet]

Faramund waited, mounted, before his men, as Athanar's horses, led by some of his men, passed between them and the Hall toward the front where most of Athanar's men were gathered. The men leading the horses eyed his company warily, as if they expected Faramund to suddenly call for a charge against them.

He smirked.

He enjoyed their caution, their fear. It made him feel full of self control. He was holding a position defense, as he had said he would to that self-important steward of Athanar's. He would show them all.

As soon as the last horses were taken from the paddock and were well on their way toward Athanar's men, Faramund ordered his men to move forward so as to fill the gap between the stables and the Hall. To move back between the Hall and Athanar's men could be construed as an offensive move, so Faramund chose against it. Even this was symbolic of determination and restraint. It would do.

Let him attack, Faramund said to himself. Then I would have him against the king's law.

But what was this? Coming from the other side of the Hall was a small group of men, and they were carrying something. It looked like a bed, or cot.

Father!

"Garrulf!"

"Yes, lord?"

"Go to the eorl. Find out whether he called my father, or if my father goes to the eorl by his own choice."

Garrulf rode off.

Faramund was not sure which would enrage him more. That blasted steward said that Athanar was not trying to trap him. This gesture, like no other, gave the lie to that piece of clever talk. Faramund ground his teeth, waiting while Garrulf ran his errand.

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar saw Stedford and Blimring bringing old Friduhelm forwards with the aid of a few of Faramund's men. Just in time! he sighed to himself only to notice Faramund giving orders to a man who then ran fast towards him. He was curious about the message - and much content for the fact that it gave his men more time to rally around his flag if it would turn bad after all.

Garrulf reached him panting.

"Lord, sir, My lord requests you to tell him, whether you have called for his father, or if he is coming by his own choice?"

Lord Athanar smiled and looked at the soldier standing beside him.

"Tell your lord this. I requested to see lord Friduhelm, from your lord himself. He said his father was very ill, but that he would send my request to him to find out whether he wished to have any visitors. After that it was clear he had no intention to do what he promised and later he practically denied us a possibility of visiting him with this aggressive manouver of bringing forth the troops in between and looking like an aggressor. So I asked Stedford to pay him a visit and ask if he'd like to meet us - letting him know about the situation... and it seems he wishes to. Otherwise he would not be coming forwards, or what do you think?" Lord Athanar flashed a smile to Garrulf letting the words hammer in.

"So you can tell lord Faramund that his father is coming here from his own accord and his meeting us is already approved by your lord himself." He made a pause, glancing over Garrulf first to lord Faramund and then to the men carrying old lord Friduhelm forwards, almost reaching the corner of the main building. After quickly glancing at the readiness of the men of Scarburg he finally turned back to Garrulf.

"Tell your lord also this... if he does not make any aggressive moves and let's me speak with his father in peace, we will then leave in peace as well. This is a serious offer." He looked the soldier to the eye.

"And tell him that if he wishes, he should feel free to join the conversation, alone." With a nod lord Athanar made it clear he had made his point. Garrulf bowed and turned on his heels running back to lord Faramund.

Athanar looked at the soldier go for a few seconds and then turned towards Thornden and Coen. "I'm going to dismount and go to meet lord Friduhelm, alone, hopefully in a spot nearer to our troops than Faramund's. I try to time it right... Do not make any agressive moves Faramund could use as a pretext for attacking. But keep an eye on him and be ready to cover me and the old man if he does something stupid."

Thornden looked like he was bursting with questions but Athanar hushed him quiet. "I know what I'm doing Thornden. Just keep an eye on Faramund and act only if you have to. Don't let them trick you into any unwarranted action."

With that he glanced forwards to see that Garrulf had reached his lord and had started to deliver his message. Also the men carrying old lord Friduhelm had entered the zone between the two groups of soldiers facing each other.

"Wish me well..." Athanar said and dismounted his horse. Looking at Faramund he saw Garrulf had just got in to the end of his message.

Athanar nodded to Thornden and Coen and started walking slowly towards the men carrying the old Friduhelm.

[littlemanpoet]

Garrulf was coming back. Faramund had watched the exchange between Athanar and Garrulf, and it seemed to him that many words had been spoken. Garrulf stopped before him.

"Well, Garrulf? Can you cut through all the many words from the eorl's rapid lips and tell me his meaning?"

"Lord, he said that he asked you to see your father and you said yes. He said that since you-" Garrulf paused and looked at his feet.

"Out with it, messenger!"

Garrulf looked up and swallowed. "Since you came to the stables instead of going to your father, and since you made moves of readying for battle, the eorl took matters into his own hands."

"So the eorl called my father?" Faramund grated.

"He said that your father goes to him freely, with your consent, he told me to say."

"He lies! Is there more?"

"He said that if you make no aggressive moves and let him speak with your father, he will leave in peace. He said it was a serious offer. And he invites you, lord, to join him and your father. That is all, lord."

"Back to your horse, Garrulf."

The man nodded and moved away. Faramund looked. Stedford and a few other men had brought his father to the middle of the courtyard. Athanar had dismounted with a look in his direction, and was walking toward his father.

He had to know what they were saying to each other. He called over his war leader, Grimhelm.

"Keep your eyes on me. If I make this motion," he pushed his hand palm down toward the ground, "attack. Otherwise, remain vigilant."

"Aye, lord."

He started toward the eorl and his father, seething and disturbed: this was going to be two against one, but he had to know what was said.

[Mnemosyne]

As Wynflaed returned to the kitchen, the holbytla rose and bowed. "Forgive my hasty words, Lady Saeryn. You are quite right. No doubt you have endured much in Eodwine's absence. And until that time, as you say, lady, I can stay here if you like, and accompany you to Minas Tirith, if you will have me."

"What is this talk of travelling to Mundburg?" said Wynflaed. "Is this a wish you have been harbouring, Saeryn?" She paused to think things over--the idea of abandoning one's duty to be with someone, even one's husband, had never occurred to her. "It is not unthinkable," she finally said, "but I should say that it would be most unwise to do so before the people are wholly used to Lord Athanar's and my rule. You have been invaluable in banking the fires already, and yet see how many troubles have occurred despite our best efforts. And even if things should be ready in a month, would you be in fit enough condition to travel, even with an escort as worthy as our guest?"

[Folwren]

Saeryn shot Falco an annoyed glance and then turned to Lady Wynflaed. “There was no talk of going to the Mundburg. . .not immediately, anyway. Of course it would be unthinkable, now, and that’s just what I was telling master Falco here,” she gave him another glare. She was embarrassed to have Wynflaed have to tell her her duty, and she blamed Falco for the scrape he had gotten her in.

“As for whether or no I will be fit for travel, that is yet to be seen. I imagine that I will be able to for some months to come.” She paused, noticed the stiffness of the situation and stood. “Please sit, Wynflaed, I’ll find another chair. You do not know Falco, although you’ve been introduced.”

Stigend had already swung a chair around from the other side of the room to where Saeryn now stood. Saeryn took it with a grateful glance. The men excused themselves to return to their work, and Falco, Saeryn, and Wynflaed were left relatively alone; only Fordides worked at the hearth, listening all the while.

[littlemanpoet]

"Greetings again, lady," said Falco amiably. "I'm not sure why it would be unthinkable to be with the man you love, but duty is as duty does."

He puffed on his pipe, watching the two ladies over the stem. Saeryn had changed some since getting married, and that was a fact. He'd not known her to be so beleaguered with concerns about propriety in the old days. Hah, back then, he thought, there was no knowing what she might do; of course, that had been back when she'd taken a knock on the head. Maybe being with child had something to do with it. Or maybe being the Lady of an Eorldom did, too. Those glares had been unexpected and off-putting. He supposed he had better get used to the change. She was not going to get unmarried or unpregnant any time soon, though she apparently already had been unLadied, as it were.

"So Lady Wynflaed, where were you before here, and what was it like, if I may ask?"

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar approached old Friduhelm walking steadily but easily, not looking back. He trusted Coen, but to his delight he realised he trusted this Thornden as well. That is good news indeed, he thought to himself while walking slowly forwards.

And he was in no hurry. He kept glancing towards Faramund while he walked towards the men carrying the old man towards him - and finally, just before reaching Friduhelm near the main doors of Faramund's Hall, he saw from the corner of his eye that Faramund had dismounted as well and was making to meet them.

The old man didn't look well...

"Lord Friduhelm! I'd like to say it's so good to see you after all the years, but I see there is no reason to praise the situation we meet again, or the condition of yours..." The eyes of the two met. And it took a while the two just looked at each other.

It was a crisp and fresh day, having the feeling of early winter. Looking at lord Friduhelm covered with blankets made lord Athanar sad. There is the hero... the destiny of all heroes who don't die in the battlefield is to end up like that. Do I wish that for myself? His thoughts were cut by lord Friduhelm.

"I know why you're here Athanar..." Friduhelm said with an effort. He had to cough a lot before continuing. "And I hate this situation as you understand..."

Lord Athanar felt troubled for Friduhelm needing to make the effort, but realising how bad old Friduhelm actually was, he appreciated his coming to meet him even more. And it meant that his initial idea of things being wrong here were correct.

"Lord Friduhelm, would you like to exhange a few words inside around the fireplace rather than in here where the cold wind bites? I see your son is coming and it may be we need to really talk the three of us... I mean, if you think you can do it?" He added the last one looking at the eyes of the old man.

"I see what you're after lord Athanar... and as long as you stay true to the king I will do my best to help you. But inside, the fireplace, hmm... that would be good indeed."

Faramund was closing in.

"Get me inside the hall, we'll talk there!" Friduhelm called his carriers. Stedford glanced towards Faramund who was reaching them, nodding to the old man and lifting the strecher with the other men.

Lord Athanar had been following lord Faramund's approach for a while as well, while still focusing on the old man as his main attention. But now that lord Faramund was more or less facing him and the men had started to carry old Friduhelm inside he quickly turned towards the young man.

"I hope you have nothing against saving your father from this cold breeze and join us inside?"

[littlemanpoet]

Athanar and his father were talking. Father was coughing. He should not be out in the cold. The eorl should know better! It was one more piece of his mind he was more than ready to give the eorl! He was almost up to them and was about ready to speak his piece when he saw that Stedford led the others, carrying Father into the hall.

Athanar turned to him as he stopped. "I hope you have nothing against saving your father from this cold breeze and join us inside?"

Faramund stared at him blackly. This was just the kind of talk that had gotten him so mad in the first place, assuming bad intentions with his very words! How had he heard Lord Tancred handle such jibes? He remembered.

"I will not dignify your insinuations with a reponse." He turned, head held high, and followed his father's couch into the hall, letting the eorl follow behind or stand there offended as he chose.

[Nogrod]

"I will not dignify your insinuations with a response."

In his youth lord Athanar would have made that kind of a comment a pretext for a duel... and on a different situation he would have demanded the one talking to him like that to take his words back unless he wanted to be punished for being an idiot who didn't know to whom he was talking to...

As lord Faramund turned his back to him and went for the stairs lord Athanar realised his hand had instinctively landed on the hilt of his sword. No, not yet... there are stakes higher this young moron realizes... Calm down now... he thought to himself and let loose his grip from the sword. Wynflaed would be proud of me now... he thought and half smiled for it.

He glanced back to Thornden and Coen, nodding to them as a signal everything being cool with him and then followed young lord Faramund to the stairs and inside the Hall.

Stedford and Blimring - and the two other men from Faramund's retinue - had placed old Friduhelm beside the fireplace and lord Faramund was closing on his father showing the others off from him as Athanar entered the hall.

Stedford and Blimring were staring at him their eyes as questionmarks when lord Faramund forced them to back away from the old man.

"Stedford, Blimring, and you two..." Athanar addressed the four men who had brought old Friduhelm to the Hall. "Stay inside to bear wittness to what is said and done here... but do act on lord Faramund's wish and step back from the old man. This is a discussion of the three of us."

Being told to step back by both of the lords the four men backtracked to the wall and then slowly headed towards the door to position themselves there waiting for the outcome. Athanar followed their way with his eyes and nodded to them in approval as they reached the doorway.

In the meantime Faramund had reached his father and had bent upon him. Lord Athanar had no way of hearing what Faramund said to his father. He took the few steps needed to come close to the father and son and to get involved.

"Lord Friduhelm..." he said softly, "I think the king is not happy with the way things are here, and I'm afraid your son is one of the reasons why it is that way."

Faramund stood up and his eyes were flaming with fire. Athanar didn't pay attention to him but continued looking at the old man. "So tell me, please my old friend, what is it that makes this a place the king himself is worried about? I know something's wrong, can you tell me what is it?"

[Firefoot]

The lords had disappeared inside again, making for a rather anticlimactic ending for such a large to-do, in Léof’s opinion. Now he was by himself, still near the stables with perhaps a third of the horses, while most of Athanar’s soldiers and the rest of the horses were milling about near the entrance to the hall. Faramund’s men, all mounted, were still formed up in ranks near the stables. Léof wondered if the crisis had truly been forestalled or merely put off, and whether he still ought to be worrying about “staying out of harm’s way,” as Hilderinc had instructed him. Léof frowned at the memory. He was no child to be looked after or scolded, like Cnebba or Garmund or even Javan when they got underfoot.

But the thought was put from his mind as the soldiers whose horses had not been retrieved came to get them. He then dismounted and followed them back across the yard to where the others waited, and brought Thornden’s horse with him as well. He spotted Quin near the edge of the group and headed over to him. “So much for all that,” he said. “Looks like everyone got worked up over nothing.”

[Folwren]

Quin glanced over at Léof. “It was a close call,” he said. “Athanar doesn’t get worked up over nothing. I wouldn’t say it’s over quite yet. They’re still talking in there, after all. What if Faramund gets mad and comes storming out here ready to fight?” He looked back towards the door to the hall.

“Chances are, there will be no actual fighting,” he went on. “That’s really why we were all told to get together, so there wouldn’t be any. Faramund won’t attack us if we’re all in a group and no one’s causing trouble. It’s like taking temptation away from him not to have one or two men walking around making fools of themselves. Wait…” A horrible thought shot through his mind. His eyes grew wide for an instant and he looked quickly about.

“Léof, lord Athanar’s sons rode with us, did they not? Have you seen them?”

[Mnemosyne]

Wynflaed smiled indulgently at the holbytla's defense of... his idea? That would certainly explain why Saeryn had never brought it up to her before--and why she had looked at Falco so.

"Happy indeed are the holbytlan if they never need worry about those things which might pull man and wife apart. We of the Eorlingas are not always so lucky. It would, say, be unthinkable to follow your husband if he were sent to war and you had to stay, not only to manage the holdings but also to raise your children. For such," she added, "happened to me, during the War. In times of peace, mayhap the bonds of love have more merit than those of duty, but I fear it will be long ere the Riddermark reaches such a state.

"As for where Athanar and I hail from, we both have lived in Edoras for most of our lives, only leaving when service to the King calls us elsewhere, as now. If you travel here often I am sure you have seen Edoras for yourself. As for me, I have till now only seen your kind from afar, and know only of your people and your land by hearsay. And surely it is good to know of the character of the people to whom we all owe so great a debt. What of your kind, Master Falco? Do you truly dwell in the earth as the old tales tell?"

[littlemanpoet]

"Well, in the earth is one way of putting it, but it would be saying too much on one hand and not near enough on the other. You see, we live underground, but not in the earth, as it were. We certainly don't crawl in the ground like worms or grubs! Although I've known a few Grubbs who sometimes seem ready enough, but we're not here to talk about ol' Mungo Grubb! And that's neither here nor there. Or, I should say, that's not here at all and all there!

"But we live underground, as I was saying, and that means that we have tidy hallways leading from our round front doors into our parlors and kitchens and pantries and bedrooms. Living underground is a snug life. Keeps the cold out. Of course, those Brandybucks over by the Big Water, half of them live in houses like you do here, but they always were strange folk.

"And we're not apt to go off to war if we can help it. We're stout in the defense of our homes and crops, of course! And the women folk are as likely to help us as they can when those things happen, like they did back in the bad time just fifteen years ago.

"Any road, it's a peaceful place with lots of company to be kept, many ale houses in which to quaff a few, and seems we haven't had a bad harvest in all the years since the War. It's a pleasant place, and so are the people, if you don't mind the same old talk from the same old folk all the day. Just between you and me," and Falco somehow managed to make it feel to all except Lady Wynflaed as if they were not even in the room, "it's a little boring."

[Thinlómien]

Wilheard

Wilheard was observing his elder brother. Wulfric was eating the bread and meat offered by Lord Faramund and talking with Fearghall sitting on his other side. They were talking about the finesse of the hall and how cleverly it was built. Wulfric was looking notoriously unhappy, his face was so easy to read.

They were riding among their father's men today as any two ordinary soldiers. Wilheard knew Wulfric knew as well as he did that it was prefectly normal, especially as Athanar already had two captains at his service to command the men. Still, Wulf seemed to take it all as a personal rebuke. Wilheard thought he had issues, or then he was right. Their father was a difficult man to read, especially lately. Wilheard wondered why Wulfric even bothered.

He could understand his brother's disappointment though. This was boring - their father and his captains had been away for ages. Wilheard twitched restlessly. Of course he could eat more, or drink more, but he was not hungry or thirsty. He wanted to go an explore a bit, or see to his horse, or anything. He could not just sit here.

"Don't even think about it," Wulfric said in a low voice at his direction. He was sneaky like that. He could appear to be talking to Fearghall next to him and then suddenly throw a comment intended at his brother.

Wilheard emptied his pint. "I need to pee," he announced, getting up. Several soldiers nearby laughed, but they were too eager to do it, too loud. It didn't sound quite right. Everybody had their minds on what was going with the lords.
"Thank you for sharing," Wulfric said, earning a few bursts of laughter from the soldiers too. "Don't do anything stupid."
"Yes boss," Wilheard said, rolling his eyes. Wulfric always had to act so responsible in the presence of soldiers.

He left the hall, fighting a grin. Finally he could do something more interesting!


~*~


Wulfric

Wulfric watched his little brother disappear from the door. He seriously hoped Wilheard wouldn't act in his typical manner and get into trouble. Now was no time for foolishness - serious business was at hand. Although Wilheard might not have been paying much attention, Wulfric definitely had. He had been acutely aware of the tenseness of the situation when Lord Athanar's men had arrived, and the petty lord who was hosting them had been outright disrespectful. There seems to be a lot of that around here in the midlands, he thought bitterly.

He hoped his father could solve the situation. When he was small, he had seen his father as a great hero with almost magical powers who could solve anything. As he had grown, he had learned to see his father shortcomings and for the last few days he had become more and more doubtful. He's just becoming old and getting softer, Wulfric told himself although soft was hardly the word he'd normally use of a man who disinherited his sons so carelessly. He's losing his grip.

Wulfric had still not quite forgiven his father for the previous days' shock, and would not do so very soon - if ever, at least so he thought. What the Sauron am I even doing here? he wondered. My father has no use for me, not as his heir or as a captain, I could as well go back to Westfold to join Marshal Agrawine. He at least knows my worth and he'd have use for a commander and soldier like me. He started laughing. It was so absurd! Why had his father sent for him and Will in the first place? They had been much better of in Westfold under Marshal Agrawine's mentorship.

"My lord? Wulfric?" Fearghall asked. He looked slightly baffled. Wulfric shook his head. He could not - he should not - explain the stupid situation to Fearghall.
"Too much mead," he muttered, and immediately regretted it. He would not want the men to think he had no head for drinking!

Fearghall was quiet, and so where most of the men in the hall. "I say," Wulfric said in a raised voice, "that once Lord Athanar has made this local lordlings see their duty to their Eorl and their King, we have a drinking contest at the Hall."
The idea was greeted with enthusiastic cheers around the hall. Good, Wulfric thought smugly, now they have something to look forward to and something to think about.

"So Fearghall, tell me, what do you think of the roof? I say it's been built in a rather shoddy manner. If you cut those poles, and those, you could have the whole hall collapse."
"Not so sure, sir. See the walls? They are also taking part of the weight of the upstairs structures."
"Yes, I see. But you also have to take into account that..."

And so they continued for a good while until Wulfric started wondering why Wilheard had not come back and what was he doing. He started feeling comfortable. He didn't want Will to put them all to shame with his behaviour. "Shall be back soon," he said to Fearghall. "Keep an eye on the boys." Then he slipped out of the hall too.

Now where was Will? Outdoors no doubt, the kid went crazy if he had to stay indoors too long. He was just scanning the yard when he met Baldwic, a young soldier who had kind of befriended Wilheard on their way from Edoras. "Hoy, Baldwic! Have you seen my brother?"
"No sir. I was just in the stables to see my horse," the man replied, coming towards Wulfric. "All's well I presume?"
"Certainly. I think you have still some time to enjoy the mead and the food, so better take the opportunity."
"Yes sir," Baldwic replied and hurried inside.

Alright, so not the stables, Wulfric concluded. Where else would Will go? As an answer to his unvoiced question he heard dogs barking behind a barn which was next to the stables. Of course. If he's not with horses, it's likely he's with hounds or hawks.

Wulfric headed to the sound, and like he had expected, he found his little brother playing with a beautiful wolfhound. What he had not expected though was that he was enjoying the company of a beautiful girl. She was maybe of Will's age, short and curvy, and she had long, golden brown hair and a garland of flowers on the top of her head. She was laughing when while watching them play and when Wulfric appeared she was just rebuking the dog: "Shadow, no. Don't tear him apart, for Bema's sake!" And then she laughed a bit more. Wulfric decided she had a very beautiful laugh.

She didn't laugh anymore, though, when she saw Wulfric. Suddenly she looked serious. Wilheard lifted his gaze from the dog and grinned when he saw his big brother.
"Wulf! See what I found?" he cried, scratching the dog behind the ears. "Isn't she marvellous?"
"I'd get your point if you were talking about the lady," Wulfric said, casting a tentative smile at the girl's direction while approaching them. The girl returned the smile, but not quite as warmly as Wulfric would've hoped. Wilheard, on the other hand, laughed.
"See? I'm up to no mischief," he said.
"Yet," Wulfric observed drily.
"You're also one of Lord Athanar's men?" the girl asked.
"Isn't that kind of obvious?" Wilheard asked her.
"Oh yes, I guess I do know everybody here! Silly me," the girl said, smiling, and blushed a little.

Wulfric was displeased. It rattled him that Will chatted so easily with her, and what was that question: so you are also one of Lord Athanar's men? Not his sons? Hadn't Wilheard even introduced himself to this girl? Did she think she's talking to a random peasant? But it would be even worse to break it at this point...

"His name's Wulf. He's my brother," Wilheard said before Wulfric had time to arrange his thoughts.
"Oh, you do look quite alike!" the girl exclaimed, laughing. "My name is Senwyn."
"Pleased to meet you, Senwyn," Wulfric said. Sometimes court manners were the way with country girls.


~*~


Wilheard

Somehow it didn't surprise Wilheard that Wulfric was immediately all after the girl. Well if it gives him something to do and makes him fuss about the "serious business" less I guess that's fine, he thought. He felt a slight pang of regret though - Wulfric was always so fluent with women, he could pay them the right compliments, he needed only one glance to make them know he was interested but he didn't push it. Well, mostly, Wilheard amended in his mind, remembering a few misadventures the two brothers had had with girls.

Shadow was trying to bite his leg off, or at least that's how it felt like. "Hey c'mon girl stop that," he said, shaking his leg to make the dog ease her grip. "You just want attention, don't you?" He scratched its ears a little more and soon she let go. "There, good girl," he said. "Now, catch this," he said, took his boot off and threw it a good thirty feet away towards the bushes. Shadow started barking and rushed towards it. Wilheard laughed. It made him happy to see dogs play. I should definitely get one, he thought.

He was still watching Shadow when she put her head out of the bush, let out a wail and started barking.
"Everything's not alright," said Senwyn's voice. Wilheard turned to her direction and saw he standing suspiciously close to Wulfric, and one of the flowers of her garland was in his hair. She sounded distressed. Wulfric put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure everything's alright," he said. "Will, go and check out where all that noise is coming from."
"I don't have my shoe!" Wilheard protested.
"You what?" Wulfric asked. His face actually looked quite funny. Senwyn slipped from his embrace and knelt to pat Shadow, who had run to her. There was a flash of dismay on Wulf's face so Wilheard though it better to answer quick and honest.
"I don't have my shoe. I threw it to the dog and it went somewhere to the bushes and I can't see it."
"Idiot!"

The noises became louder. Obviously dozens of men were gathering together, and Wilheard could hear the clink of chainmails and neighing of horses. Wulfric seemignly heard it too, he was suddenly all alert - when it came to the beginning signs of a battle, he was like a warhorse. "We go, right now. Something's happening." He turned to Senwyn and gave her a curt smile. "Til later."

He hurried away, hand on his swordhilt, and Wilheard had no choice but to follow him, shoe or not. From behind the barn they came to the yard, and into the middle of two groups of armed men facing each other on horseback. Wilheard cursed in his mind and grasped his sword hilt. He could not see their father, nor Lord Faramund, but all the men - theirs on one side, Faramund's on the other - were now staring at the two of them, suddenly standing in the middle. Wilheard fervently wished he could've been somewhere else.

Wulfric, however, was not quite so ruffled by the unexpected situation. "What is going on here?" he asked, assuming his most authoritative voice.

Good save mate, Wilheard thought, or would've been if you didn't have a flower in your hair and if your brother wasn't missing a shoe.

[Folwren]

Thornden thanked Leof quietly when he handed his horse's reins to him. He looked intently at Leof's face as the young man turned and led his horse to the side. Something was gnawing at him, and it wasn't fear. Things had gone differently than what either of them had expected when Thornden threw out that invitation to ride with them. It was good that he had.

Thornden tightened the saddle-girth and mounted up. He looked about his shoulder to the hall door. No one was in sight. He sighed and looked across the courtyard at Faramund's men, arranged in rows opposite them. How long would the conference with the old man take? What would be the outcome? Thornden had not heard the brief exchange of words between Faramund and Athanar, there in the space between the two groups of men-at-arms, but he had seen Athanar's face grow hard and stern in response to something Faramund said, and Thornden's eyes had not missed the action of Athanar's hand gripping his sword hilt. Whatever was being said inside the hall now was not necessarily diplomatic, and the threat of a clash of arms was not yet dissipated. At least all was in order here. So long as his men remained calm and made no sudden or threatening moves, all would remain quiet here and no one would be provoked to any violence. He cast a quick eye over the men. They stood silent, waiting and apprehensive.

But then something unexpected did happen. Thornden became aware of the men's attention disrupted. Heads turned, but not one man in his ranks said a single word. Around the corner of the stables came none other than Athanar's two sons. Thornden leaned forward in his saddle to better see. They both had their hands on their swords, but Wilheard had but one shoe and Wulfric had. . .a flower in his hair?

“What is going on here?” the older one asked, stopping short between the two drawn ranks of men. His voice was stern and sounded like the authoritative voice his father used. It annoyed Thornden, and it amused Faramund's men. He saw their faces breaking slowly into smiles. This annoyed Thornden further. Did they mean to bring disgrace to their father by appearing in such a disgraceful fashion? The job of convincing Faramund that Athanar had the authority to levy taxes was hard enough without his sons acting like fools.

“Wulfric,” Thornden said coldly. “Get over here and get on your horse. Willheard. . .” He wanted so badly to ask him what had happened to his boot, but the temptation to humiliate him was overruled by the fact that it would make them all look ridiculous. “Mount your horse, too.”

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Hilderinc's first reaction, when Athanar's sons appeared in the courtyard, was a mixture of disbelief, combined with the urge to roll his eyes and chuckle, giving way to a sting of anger with the young fools; immediately replaced by the attentiveness brought by the reflexes of a warrior. Hilderinc eyed Faramund's men, of whom some seemed to be openly amused. The Scarburgians, on the other hand, seemed to keep their cool – even though their reactions were as much emotional, if not more so. Some looked at Wulfric and Wilheard with a bit of rebuke in their gaze, some tried to conceal their horror in face of such a disgrace in the eyes of their would-be enemies. The appearance of the strangely decorated elder son and the shoeless younger son of lord Athanar seemed to both lower and raise the tension between the groups facing each other in the courtyard. The slight relief and amusement, shared to a certain extent by both groups, only with the men of Scarburg trying to conceal it, somehow lifted the tension – for a brief moment. But then, the Scarburgians had to think about how the other group will think of them now: the show of the lack of discipline and all. But it had occured to Hilderinc that, if it came down to fight, this might actually even give advantage to Athanar's men: if Faramund's soldiers let their minds become distracted by the idea of their enemies being jerks, they could easily underestimate whom they were facing. Still, Hilderinc hoped that it won't come to a fight. But following Thornden's sharp rebuke, the situation seemed as tense as before, and the men of Scarburg were attentive.

[Thinlómien]

"Wulfric. Get over here and get on your horse. Willheard. Mount your horse, too."

Wulfric felt his face turn red the way it did when he was angry. That kind of words from his father would've been a rebuke. From Coenred, they would have been painful but acceptable. From this treachery-brewing peasant whimp? Unbearable.

Still, Wulfric knew that showing their internal disputes before Faramund's men would be even worse than the humiliation Thornden was trying to put him through. Thornden would pay, but later.

"Baldwic," he said, fighting to keep his composure and succeeding for the most part. "Me and Wilheard's horses."

"Yes, sir," the young soldier replied quietly, as if suddenly shy of being the center of so many people's attention. Wulfric thanked his luck that he had named the correct soldier, but then again, Wilheard's steed was so tricky that not many cared or were able to look after it, and Baldwic was a good horseman and dutiful.

Deliberately slowly, Wulfric took the reins of his horse and mounted, while Wilheard acted with double the speed and half the show. Wulfric made a note to himself to discuss the finery of giving a lordly impression with his little brother.

When he was sitting on his horse, he gave Thornden a glance, not bothering to conceal his anger and dislike for the man. He spoke in a voice loud enough to reach the men mounted closest to them, but not Faramund's soldiers: "Next time watch whom you try to boss around, soldier." Before Thornden could say anything, he added in a tone he deemed nobleman-like: "But let us not bicker here now. There are more important things at hand."

[Folwren]

“Next time watch who you try to boss around, soldier,” Wulfric said. Thornden raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth with a retort, but Wulfric cut him off. “But let us not bicker here now. There are more important things at hand.”

A smile played at the corner’s of Thornden’s mouth. Not a companionable smile, but a hard one. “Indeed,” he said. “Such as keeping our status as the men of Lord Athanar we are, looking like noble eorlinga. Your and your brother’s appearances do none of us any credit. It is evident what recreation you have been making, while the rest of us have been attending to our duties, though your brother's occupation is more of a mystery...unless he got further along than you.” He turned his head away, looking forward across the courtyard to Faramund’s men.

“Take the flower out of your hair.”

[Thinlómien]

Without thinking, Wulfric lifted his hand to his hair. Midway through the motion he realised what he was doing and stopped, and took his hand to stroke his horse's neck instead. He was boiling with anger and humiliation but he would not acknowledge it in such manner. Instead, he forced himself to relax in his saddle and lifted his gaze to Thornden with a sneer.

"To me it seems we arrived just in time. And no need to sound so bitter although I do understand that a man like you seldom gets chances with women."

He urged his horse a few steps away from Thornden and closer to his little brother. He leant in his saddle a little and said in a low voice: "Will you useless jerk. Why didn't you tell me?" Casually he slapped Wilheard on the head.

He leaned away from his brother, smoothed his hair taking care to comb the flower out with his fingers and took his most soldierly posture. He was ready for anything - even battle if needs be, and he sure felt like killing someone.

[Nogrod]

"So tell me, please my old friend, what is it that makes this a place the king himself is worried about? I know something's wrong, can you tell me what is it?" lord Athanar asked the old man and bent slightly towards him.

The old man's eyes shined but his talk was stammering.

"L...llet's cut the p..p..pcrab, 'thanar." He looked at Athanar to the eye looking for any signs of scorn from the eorl because of his sorry state. "Ittt's.... jussst, that I'm-mm-m no-o-t..." He had to pause for concentration.

Lord Athanar leaned towards the old man and smiled encouragingly looking him back into the eye passionately. "Don't you worry Friduhelm, I know who and what you are... just tell me what is going on..." he looked at the old man and frowned. "I think I know what's going on, but I can't prove anything... and I'm afraid I don't know all I'd need to know to carry this further." He hesitated a moment and then added just to make sure Friduhelm understood the situation clear enough. "King Eomer is worried, he wouldn't have sent me to take the eorlship that fast after Eodwine were he not concerned enough."

Friduhelm nodded with understanding and tried to cool himself down to be able to speak. Faramund hadn't heard the words between the two but saw his father now struggling. "Let my father be!" he yelled and made it towards the two in anger. Athanar sprang up and his hand was already reaching for the hilt of his sword when old Friduhelm put all his willpower into a loud call of halt, like he was a commander once again in front of his troops. Both men froze in the middle of their move and the soldiers by the door held their breath.

"S-stopp it!" he bellowed, now more energetic than in years. All the eyes inside the hall were fixed on the old man.

And he rose up. He was wawering.

Both Athanar and Friduhelm sprang to hold him up - "Lord!" Stedfast yelled as he ran to his aid as well from the door.

Friduhelm smiled feeling comfortably carried by the the two lords and wawed his hand to Stedfast approvingly showing him to stay away at the same time. He gathered his breath slowly while Athanar and Faramund followed half him and half the other's reaction being in readiness all the time for any unforeseen trick by the other one.

"My ss-son..." Friduhelm said turning his head to face him.

"You have rr-reallly dis-a pp-ointed me." he managed to utter.

Faramund took a step backwards in rage letting go of his father. "How dare you say that! I'm your son and the legitimate heir to this place!" he yelled while Athanar struggled to keep lord Friduhelm in balance. Stedfast ran to his aid and took the old man from the other arm.

It looked the old man got clearer with every bit of anger that was aroused in him.

"I was caught by the b-bb-blessed disease... b-brainbleed, you know? I'm only recovering now and it could go a-a-anyway. No one knows if I recovver 'ully."

Athanar glanced at Faramund but his face was of stone. But with the words of his father they would change totally.

"Youv've brought such a shame on me and our f-family! Shame on you!" The old man would have collapsed with his anger but the two men managed to hold him up. Faramund looked pale.

"It was not me father! It was Tancred... and Alboin! They forced me to this!"

You didn't seem too eager to object to that, now did you Faramund? Athanar thought to himself while looking at the young lord breaking before his father. There were tears in Faramund's eyes. Lord Athanar tried to remain calm between conflicting emotions; a spoiled kid, like my own, repenting for good, or a cynical youngster trying to save what there is to save? He was bent on the latter interpretation.

The old man glanced at his two carriers and then said firmly, without stammering. "Take me to the stairway my friends, I wish to speak to the men."

Stedfast turned to Athanar to see what he thought about it. Lord Athanar nodded in confirmation and glanced to the door indicating they should open the doors. The two started helping lord Friduhelm to the main doors while Faramund looked by. There was no natural way for him to take his father's other shoulder now and it would mean a lot if he was not one of those who supported his father out.

Faramund rushed to the door showing the soldiers to back away and jerked the doors wide open taking the steps outside before the old man and his helpers.

"Listen everyone! Lord Friduhelm will speak to you all! Cease any hostilities!"

The yard went silent and slowly the people could see the figure of the old man emerge from the doorway aided by lord Athanar and Stedfast. Faramund took a step aside to let them enter the top of the steps.

[Folwren]

The air was tense out in the courtyard. It was not so tense with the thoughts of impending battle now, for that had dissipated when Athanar’s sons had arrived, but rather with anger and annoyance on the side of the Scarburgians. Thornden took care not to look again at Wulfric. The last attempted insult from Wulfric had affected Thornden about as much as water on a duck’s back. He was content to ignore him, but he was aware of the young man’s fury.

Then the doors of the great hall flew open. Every head in the courtyard turned and all eyes were fixed on the figure of Faramund darting out into the sunlight. He leapt half way down the stairs and then held up his hands and called to them.

“Listen, everyone! Lord Friduhelm will speak to you! Cease any hostilities!”

Thornden glanced about him, at his men, and at the Scarburgians. They had all jumped at the suddenness of Faramund’s appearance and many had half drawn their swords and lowered their spears. A rustle of the weapons being retired rippled through the men and all were still as Friduhelm came to the door, bowed and walking slowly onto the porch.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Hilderinc observed the exchange of words between Thornden and Wulfric with his mouth shut and still attentive to any signs of movement from the opposite group of soldiers, but on the inside, he felt the uttermost displeasure with Athanar's elder son. During the time spent in Athanar's household, he had learned a lot about both Wulfric and Wilheard and of their behavior, which reminded Hilderinc of exactly that type of young soldiers he had started to dislike the most when he had been serving as a soldier for the first time in his life. Self-centered, all-important showoffs, he thought. Nothing good will come out of this... He just hoped that Wulfric will have enough sense not to start any trouble before the matter with the local landholders is solved.

Wulfric seemed to have at least this much sense, however, and responsibly took his place. About time, it seemed, as suddenly the door of the hall swung open. Quin next to Hilderinc had almost drawn his sword, but Hilderinc grabbed his hand quickly and stopped him when it was just halfway out. He cast a short glance at the young soldier and slowly moved his head from side to side. He did not speak, but nodded towards the stairs.

Faramund stood there, announcing the coming of lord Friduhelm, and indeed, after a few heartbeats, his servant emerged from inside the house, along with Athanar, leading an old man between them. It occured to Hilderinc that even though lord Friduhelm was old, there was a certain air of confidence around him, and he reminded Hilderinc more of Athanar than of Faramund. He caught himself sitting straight on his horse and expectingly listening to what the landlord had to say.

[littlemanpoet]

"Men of my house, friends, and guests!"

Friduhelm's voice hardly quavered, but was not very strong. The soldiers on both sides had to lean forward to hear him. If he had "brainbleed", thought Faramund, he was done with it. Faramund waited with bated breath to learn his fate and that of the lands he had thought until now were his to rule as he pleased.

"Much has gone amiss while I have been ill. But now it is ended." Friduhelm's voice was getting stronger. "Fetch me some water, Faramund!"

"Yes, father."

Faramund went into the hall and grabbed the first soldier he found. "Get me some water for the old man. Hurry!" He turned around to listen from behind his father.

"Anyone who has not received justice from my son will receive it from me. Let each householder come to me when he is able, and it will be done." The old man turned. "Where is that water?"

Faramund looked behind him. The soldier was coming with a tankard. Faramund grabbed it and took it to his father, and made as good a show of helping his father has he could. The old man wiped his mouth.

"Now! Every Eorling except for the home guard - you know who you are - is to go with Lord Athanar to visit Tancred and Alboin. Let them try their tricks facing a force of double size!" The old man's voice sounded stronger than ever.

"Go, Lord Athanar, and my men serve you well! I will stay home and deal with this whelp of mine, myself!"

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

As Friduhelm ended his speech, Hilderinc caught himself, along with a few others, loudly cheering in approval of the old man's words. It was only a short cry of applause, as the men – and Hilderinc the least of them – did not want to break the discipline and also expected to hear a response to Friduhelm's words from Athanar himself; but the relief, or almost disbelief at the sudden turn of the situation had to be expressed somehow, and the feelings of the riders were just too strong. The fact that the threat of a battle, which was just a moment ago looming like a shadow over them, suddenly disappeared, lightened the hearts of the soldiers. And now that those who almost became their enemies should stand by their side...

Hilderinc would have felt embarassed, perhaps, had he reflected upon his strong reaction, but at that point, the happiness had just overwhelmed him. Somehow, also, his veteran's heart was warmed at the possibility of two groups of men joining together; to somebody like him, who had seen the divisions between men at war and even after the war, even such a small thing had its value.

But he was not thinking about this – and his thinking had soon returned to the cautious, calculative thinking of a soldier, veteran, and mercenary: Is it going to be easy? With the divisions already between Scarburgians, will the leadership work, once there is even one more group among us? Will the men be up to the task? How are Friduhelm's men going to act in this task? And is it possible that still something bad happens before this is done?

Hilderinc turned his eyes towards Athanar. It will be upon him to decide, and to lead us, he thought. Is he going to be able to do it?