Scarburg Meadhall

[Thinlómien]

Life was ironic, Wulfric thought, sitting outside alone in the dark evening. Today he had promised the men they could have a drinking contest, yet there they were having it without him, because his father - his sad excuse of a father - had decided to throw off a feast before he had been able to suggest it. Wulfric was in no mood for games now, and it was likely no one missed him. Who would? A worthless son, a bully of a brother and a leader with no followers - no, no, it was better he was out here alone.

To be honest, Wulfric did have other worries than the shortcomings of his father or those of his own too. The ground he sat on was cold and uncomfortable, but it was not much compared to the cold and discomfort Wulfric felt inside, at least if you asked him. All the other men had cheered when Athanar had settled his business with Faramund, and the young lord's father had regained his authority over the hall and publicly rebuked his son. Wulfric had felt pity and anger on behalf of the humiliated son. Faramund had maybe not been the best of lords, but no man deserved such treatment from his demented father he had been looking after.

Wulfric started picking pebbles and throwing them to the distance. Maybe he should go and visit Lord Faramund and offer his sympathies. The proud man might not welcome them, but with two old men going nuts with age ruling the area, the alliance and friendship of those young and strong would benefit both of them. And of course if he went back to Faramund's hall, he could have another chance to meet the girl again. Their meeting had been regrettably brief, but Wulfric had trouble keeping her out of his head. Target number three hundred and sixty-two selected, Wilheard would say mockingly, but it never was quite so simple to Wulfric himself.

[Lhunardawen]

Ginna left the smithy in a quicker pace than when she came, fearful that the longer she tarried, the more difficult it would be for her to walk away. The cold night wind did nothing to take away her longing to return to Harreld's warm embrace, and caused her to hurry still. She slowed as she approached the kitchen's back door, wiping tear stains off her face with her shawl and running her fingers through her hair. She stopped at the threshold, took a deep breath, and went in.

The activity in the kitchen had decreased somewhat since she had gone, indicating that most of the household had settled down to eat. Frodides was placing a bowl of stew on the table where they had their meals. Kara and Modtryth were both absent.

Saeryn stood with her back to most of the kitchen, kneading some dough, more forcefully than necessary it seemed to Ginna. She came to her and as she draw near she saw Saeryn's eyebrows drawn low in an expression of keen displeasure, and the corners of her mouth turned down in a scowl.

"Are you all right, Saeryn?"

Saeryn looked up sharply. "Oh, Ginna, it's you," she said, the intensity leaving her face in an instant and a small smile flitting briefly over it instead. She rather ignored Ginna's question and asked one of her own, "How did it go with Harreld?"

Ginna took a moment to respond, quite unsure of how to answer the question. "Not good," she said eventually, with a sigh. Tears began to cloud her vision. She blinked them away. "It was a painful talk, to say the least."

Saeryn glanced over her shoulder at Frodides. The older woman sat eating her stew in a matter that belied her ignorance of their near vicinity. She sat staring off into space, her left profile in view to them.

"Do you want to go talk about it?" Saeryn asked in a quieter voice.

"I don't think I can--"

A choke interrupted Ginna's speech as the implications of her conversation with Harreld struck her. She felt sobs rising within her and breathed deeply to quiet them for a little while. "I don't think I can talk about it at length," she said, her voice quivering with effort, "but I do need to talk about it."

Despite the coating of flour on her hands, Saeryn put one arm around Ginna and pressed her close. "It's alright, now, sweet," she murmured. "Just cry. It's alright."

Ginna shook her head and hugged Saeryn back, but almost immediately pulled away. Saeryn understood and let go and then turned to the bread.

"Let me set this bread to rise again and then we can go somewhere to talk, if you like," Saeryn said.

Ginna nodded her assent. She pulled a stool closer to Saeryn and sat, waiting silently as Saeryn finished her work. She glanced now and again at Frodides's face, trying to discern how much she heard and what she thought of it, but as always the cook's face was inscrutable. As Saeryn set the bread in a warm corner to rise, she told Frodides where they would be if she or Modtryth or Kara needed help with anything. Then she gently took Ginna by the hand and led her wordlessly to the women's quarters.

Saeryn sat on a bed across from Ginna and looked at her patiently, waiting and not forcing her to speak. Ginna tried to put on a brave smile, but it came out sad and weary.

"He does not want to stay betrothed. He wants to obey my father's will," she said, her voice breaking at the mention of her father. "I could not gainsay him, Saeryn."

[littlemanpoet]

Harreld stood in the doorway despite the cold and watched Ginna's receding form walk away under the night sky. When she slipped into the Hall, he closed the door and sat down to his yet uneaten food.

He relived his conversation with Ginna repeatedly as he chewed and swallowed, polished a blade, cleaned up, and sorted things to end the night.

He felt less heavy-hearted than he had all day. He found, to his surprise, that he felt rather light-hearted, even hopeful.

What are you hopeful for, Harreld? he asked himself as he swept the floor with shovel and broom.

He had promised Ginna that if a way could be found, he would walk that road with her. He didn't know of any way that did not honor both her father and her, but if one could be found, then all could be well. What if it never came? He had no idea. But somehow he could not be bothered to think of that. There had to be a way. He was convinced of it, if only because he had promised and she had shown her acceptance of his promise by welcoming his embrace. Maybe it could happen yet!

Though he had no idea how, it did not seem to matter. He left his smithy and crossed the yard to the men's rooms, and fell asleep shortly after lying down.

[Nogrod]

Thornden left the kitchen with an air of bewilderment and frustration about him. He knew not what he had done to deserve such rejection and anger at the hand of Saeryn, and it rather stung. He tried not to feel anger at her unreasonableness, but he was only human, and tired at that. He was deep in thought when Captain Coenred caught his arm.

Thornden turned at once, his face clearing of his thoughts. He saw Hilderinc quietly excuse himself from conversation with Coenred, nod to Thornden, and go back to his seat. Thornden waited for Coenred to speak.

“Athanar asked me to tell you that whenever you had a moment, he wished to speak with you,” Coenred said.

“Very well, thank you,” Thornden said. Coenred nodded and turned and went off. Thornden sighed and stood irresolute a moment. With a sigh he decided to go and speak with Athanar now. He felt he could eat no more, there was too much turmoil still within the hall and its members to feel completely at ease, despite the warm mead in him.

“My lord, you called for me,” he said, coming to Athanar’s side. Athanar turned partially in his chair to face Thornden showing with his hand for Thornden to sit down beside him.

“Thornden,” Athanar said in a low voice, quickly checking no one, especially the hobbit, was listening. “Is it possible that you had some knowledge of those two who fled and you did not come open about it with me?”

Thornden felt his stomach sink heavily. He looked at Athanar and saw that his lord’s face was serious and even stern. It was just possible that he did not know and was guessing. Thornden sincerely hoped this was the case and decided to test the water.

“My lord asked me if I knew aught yesterday, before we sent search parties out,” Thornden responded quietly.

Thornden detected a hint of disappointment in lord Athanar's expression. Lord Athanar leaned back in his chair and seemed to be thinking. Then he leaned back forwards looking at Thornden straight in the eyes.

"Do you wish the men you lead are open and frank to you? Do you trust people who are not willing or courageous to come open with you?" He made a pause but Thornden could read from his expression he was not quite finished yet.

"Which one is the worse to your eyes, that you can't trust someone, or that there is something in between you in the open so that you can then try to work your way forwards?"

"It would be worse if I could not trust a man," Thornden responded. It was clear now that Athanar somehow knew that Thornden had held something back. His words partially shamed him, but more strongly was the feeling that he had not done complete wrong, and he roused his pride to answer Athanar. "But I would strive to be such a leader to my men that they would trust me enough to not be afraid of telling me everything. And if a man held back something, I would seek to find what I had done to deserve such distrust or disloyalty in him." He looked Athanar squarey in the eye as he spoke so boldly.

Lord Athanar leaned back and smiled. The reaction took Thornden by surprise. Slowly Athanar raised the goblet into his mouth and took a heavy draught from it. After wiping his beard he set the goblet back to the table and turned his eyes on Thornden, now piercing his eyes with his gaze.

"So my good Thornden, how would you have done that which you call for in just one day, in a situation where you'd be commandend by your superiors to take charge of everything in a place where people still mourned for the previous lord... If you know the answer you do have something to teach me my friend." Athanar made a fleeting smile, raised his eyebrows and leaned forwards. "I do love your straightforwardness Thornden, but I'd also counsel you to think before you talk. If you had reason to say what you did just now after a month or two, I would really need to consider, but now you're trying to avoid things, now aren't you?"

Lord Athanar looked at Thornden quizzically and called for more wine.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

It was a cold evening, but that did not matter to Hilderinc. For a long time he stood on the threshold, breathing in the crispy air, feeling suddenly refreshed. Soft breeze was blowing through the night, bringing with it the soft scent of the rotting leaves and the quiet sounds from the forest. Somewhere deep in the marshlands an owl just woke up. Hushed sound of voices could be heard coming from the Hall.

Briefly, soft light flickered from the smithy as its door opened, and somebody came out. Hilderinc saw a figure marching through the courtyard, and another standing in the doorway. He retreated into the shadow, not willing to meet anybody. As the door of the Hall closed behind the unknown night wanderer, he turned about and walked past the corner to take a stroll around the place.

If he wanted to be alone, however, the plan didn't quite work out. He barely took a few steps, when suddenly out of nowhere there came a small pebble and hit him into the knee. Hilderinc hissed in surprise and pain. A sound of rustling came from the darkness, as somebody moved and was getting up in start. Then a young voice came from the shadow.

"Oh, it's you, Hilderinc." After the initial shock, the speaker's voice was calming down. Hilderinc could not blame him, his own heart stopped for a moment when the stone had hit him. "I didn't see you."

"Wulfric," he recognised the voice. "Neither did I." He rubbed his hurting knee. "I would not have expected you out here... casting stones at people."

[Folwren]

“I do love your straightforwardness Thornden, but I'd also counsel you to think before you talk. If you had reason to say what you did just now after a month or two, I would really need to consider, but now you're trying to avoid things, aren't you?"

Thornden half shook his head and turned his eyes away. He rested one hand on the table and clenched it slightly. He felt like a mouse in a cat and mouse game, and he thought he knew how it would end. The mouse rarely won.

Modtryth came over with a pitcher of mead in response to Athanar’s hale. Thornden sat with his eyes cast downward as she poured for Athanar and then departed again. When she had gone, he had an answer ready.

“As a leader of men, you should know that the first days, perhaps even the first hours, of your leadership are perhaps the most important moments to establish your lead. Of all times, that is when the men’s eyes are on you most. Like it or not, men will form their opinion concerning you within that time. In your case, my lord, you showed yourself to be a hard man, not one to be trifled with or questioned, and one who would punish any misdeed swift and hard.

“Perhaps I should not tell you how you should have established your lordship here, but I would say that mayhap it would have been better if you had spent more time watching and waiting for a while before passing such a harsh judgment on Lithor. If you had cared to know him before judging him, you would have known he wasn’t an evil man prone to cause mischief. But you didn’t know him, and you didn’t take the time to find out, and so the rest of us saw that there would be no second chances for someone who made a mistake. But that was another problem – we didn’t know what would count as a mistake with you. What lord Eodwine would have laughed at or simply passed over, you considered treason.

“And so when Lithor and Erbrand did something that was serious, I said nothing. I did not want them to be punished by you.” He looked at Athanar. By telling him the entire truth and his entire thought process of the preceding day, he realized he held no position of defense for himself. As a soldier and a subordinate, he had acted wrongly, and he fully expected Athanar to see it that way. But he felt that as a man and a friend, he had acted rightly, and nothing could dissuade him of that.

“I was afraid for them. For what you might do to them. That is why I told you nothing. And if, now that you know my reasons, you still find me untrustworthy, then I will have to accept that as part of the consequences of defending those two men.”

[Thinlómien]

"Wulfric. Neither did I. I would not have expected you out here... casting stones at people."

"Neither would I," said Wulfric, sardonic but not unfriendly. That was all the apology Hilderinc was going to get - Wulfric was a man much too proud for apologies, and it would never even have occured to him to apologise to someone of lesser rank or status. Nevertheless as he was calming down, he did feel a bit stupid, casting stones at soldiers like a wilful child.

"Sit down since you're already here. There's something I would like to ask you." Wulfric was improvising now, suddenly feeling life return to fill the gaps made by the disappointments and humiliations of the previous days. He had told his brother they had to get to know their men and get to know the place so that they would be ready when father would finally fail.

With just the slightest hesitation, Hilderinc obeyed and sat down on the cold ground. Wulfric paused for a moment to think what he knew about this man - he was probably in his thirties, he had not been a part of Athanar's household very long, he was a common soldier but clearly valued by captain Coenred and Lord Athanar himself, and his hair was cropped short in a very un-Eorling manner. Not very much that, Wulfric thought.

"So tell me, Hilderinc," he said after a while. "You haven't served my Lord father for very long yet. How did you come to serve him - why did you pledge your sword to him and not some other lord who would surely have welcomed your services just as gladly?"

[Folwren]

"He does not want to stay betrothed. He wants to obey my father's will," she said, her voice breaking at the mention of her father. "I could not gainsay him, Saeryn."

Saeryn looked at Ginna tenderly and smiled a little. No. Ginna would not gainsay Harreld. She was too gentle and too in love. "Is it something that you can give time to? That if you wait, soon Harreld will see it as you do? Perhaps time will change his mind."

"No, not time I think." Ginna opened her mouth to continue, but she hesitated; she did not want Saeryn to be reminded of Eodwine's absence and cause her pain. It was enough that she empathised with hers. "But his mind can be changed. He said that if there was any other way, he would take it willingly." The way she said those hopeful words, however, told Saeryn that she could not hope to find one.

"Another way can be found," Saeryn said, stubbornly. She reached across and gripped Ginna's hand. "Your father gave you to Eodwine to turn you into a lady because apparently he wasn't doing such a good job himself. Harreld has had more hand in your tutelage here than Eodwine himself. Your father doesn't realize this. Also, your father is in no position to judge which man would be better for you. He has already misjudged things in his speculations.”

Ginna squeezed Saeryn's hand gratefully and managed a weak smile. If Saeryn felt any longing for her husband, she did not perceive it, and admired Saeryn's strength all the more for it. But while she had echoed her sentiments, Ginna did not understand how it led to another way. "What do you suggest can be done?"

"Write your father yourself and tell him that you cannot marry Thornden. Perhaps tell him you cannot marry any other than Harreld. Tell him that if he will not bless the marriage, you will marry him anyway. Tell him I and lord Eodwine support your decision. I think perhaps a strongly worded letter will perhaps show your father that you cannot easily be swayed."

Ginna mulled this over. She doubted that a letter would be able to change her father's mind, even one that mentioned the former eorl and his wife, but a faint hope stirred within her as Saeryn assured her of their support. What if she took this a step further and travelled half a day's ride back home to talk to her father face to face, maybe even take Harreld along if he was willing? But for one rare instance, she did not want to decide rashly. There was much to think about and she knew she was yet too emotional to make the right judgments. Her head began to throb. She found herself wishing again that Eodwine were around.
There was no need, however, to involve Saeryn in her confusion. She had been kind enough to take time to talk to her, and had more pressing concerns of her own. Ginna gave Saeryn a small, hopeful smile. "Perhaps," she repeated. Better for her to think that she could figure things out on her own.

Saeryn looked at her and nodded. That was all that could be said at the time. "Good," she said, nodding. "I don't know if there's anything else to be done about it. At least not just now. Let us think about what is at hand with Lord Athanar and his household settling in."

Ginna nodded. And then eyes slightly widening in recollection, she opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Saeryn looked at her curiously. Ginna let out a brief, nervous laugh.

"I do not mean to pry, but you have been so kind to me and I cannot let this go, even though it seems you would rather I did. Were you all right, earlier in the kitchen? Is something wrong?"

Saeryn drew back, sitting upright and laying her hands in her lap. For a moment she said nothing, contemplating whether or not to tell Ginna the truth about what was bothering her, but then she burst forth with, "It is what makes me think that your father is so wrong in everything he has said! He thought that I would really marry Thornden if Eodwine were dead! Eodwine isn't even dead, and your father is presuming this sort of thing! What kind of lady does he think I am? What kind of lady does he think you are?" Her eyes flashed as she looked at Ginna.

Ginna bowed her head, unable as she was to look at Saeryn in her indignation. She could feel her cheeks heating up. It's strange, she couldn't help thinking, laughing mirthlessly inside, that for the first time in her life she was ashamed on account of him who had always been ashamed of her. "My father," she began hesitantly, as she tried to look for the right words to say, "he is...practical." She let out a heavy sigh and forced herself to look at Saeryn. "I do not know him as well as a daughter should know her father. But he had been through difficult times in his life; perhaps he had been made cynical by such experiences.

"One thing I do know is that in this situation he means no harm. He does not know either of us well enough not to write such things as he did, but this is his way of showing concern. I beg you not to think anymore of his words, or to judge him by them."

“He has caused harm, though,” Saeryn replied. “He has been rude and presumptuous, and his letter has damaged your relationship with Harreld. And what he has said presumes horrible things about both Thornden and myself, and if Thornden ever finds out . . .” She paused and then regretted her words. Ginna did not deserve this. Saeryn reached out and touched her arm. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “There’s no reason for me to upbraid you for what your father said. Forgive me, Ginna. Forget what I’ve said, and let’s work together to solve this problem.”

"You are forgiven," Ginna replied, "and I am sorry for what my father's words have made you feel." She covered the hand touching her arm. "I only hope that this would not make things awkward between the two of you. It is bad enough that the letter has driven a wedge between Harreld and me. I would not bear it if..." she let her voice trail, looking guiltily at Saeryn.

"We couldn't relate the same after this?" Saeryn finished tentatively, looking at Ginna. "I guess that will depend on Thornden's behavior now. I fear I cannot be a little suspicious of him. He thinks things through, and he goes by what he thinks is his duty. If Eodwine dies. . ." She shut her mouth and pressed her lips close together. If Eodwine died, Thornden may feel it his duty to take Saeryn as his wife, if only because he was Eodwine's right hand man, and Saeryn was carrying a child and would need somebody. But Eodwine was not dead, and if Thornden was entertaining any such thoughts, they had better be discouraged. Besides, she didn't need protection. She had Degas, and she also had the assurance of Athanar's promise of the land going to her child, if it were a son.

"It matters not," she said, turning her thoughts back to Ginna. "I will handle myself as I see necessary with Thornden."

Ginna gave her a brief smile. She wanted to tell her that Eodwine was not going to die, but it was not an assurance she could give with certainty. She said instead, "Come on, it's late. We have a meal waiting for us."

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Hilderinc had originally intended to spend some time alone, but now that Wulfric started to talk to him, he could not just walk away, so he obliged and sat down next to the young man.

"So tell me, Hilderinc. You haven't served my Lord father for very long yet. How did you come to serve him - why did you pledge your sword to him and not some other lord who would surely have welcomed your services just as gladly?"

"Why did I come to serve your father?" Hilderinc repeated Wulfric's question. He was curious as to why the young man suddenly asked him about this, but then, it was probably just a whim. After all, he was ever hardly talking about himself, unless asked, and many of Athanar's soldiers knew only about as much as Wulfric had now said.

"I have heard much about him, also from my late master, commander Wintearn of Gramdel in Eastfold," he started. "You probably understand that if you spend enough time in the service of various lords or commanders, you get to hear at least about the important men like your father certainly is. I believe commander Wintearn and your father knew each other from long ago. Once Wintearn finished his task of safeguarding Gramdel from the brigands who had appeared there recently, he had no longer need for extra men, and so I left for Edoras with the hope to find a new master more easily in the large city. There, I heard that your father was still looking for soldiers to add to his household. He accepted me when he heard about my experience and Wintearn's recommendation of my skills." He shrugged. "If you are not bound to your lord or commander, it is not that easy for a soldier to find a place in times of peace, you know? Wintearn was not the first nor the last of those under whose command I was, just like your father, I expect. That said, with all due respect to your father, of course. But this is just how things are. Maybe if he sees that he is no longer in need for more men, he will let me go and I must again seek for a new master."

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar listened expressionlessly to Thornden open up before him. After Thornden finished he was silent for a moment. Finally he laid his goblet to the table with a long sigh.

"I do honour your frankness, even if I had to push a little for you to finally come clean with this issue. But I'm a bit surprised about your attitude. With your age and experience I don't think you are in a position to tell me how to rule my men..." He paused for a moment taking a good look at Thornden. He took a stern face and leaned slightly forwards, talking in a low voice, slowly.

"I don't think even lord Eodwine would have laughed at a situation where during those exact first hours of his rule in a new place the local soldiers would skirmish with his men, his daughter would get beaten and his authority would be openly questioned in front of everyone in a banquet while others would have messed with weapons inside the hall while getting drunk." Athanar reached for his goblet without taking his eyes from Thornden’s. Slowly he leaned a little backwards giving Thornden time to think about what he had just said.

Suddenly lord Athanar flashed a thin smile as he had clearly remembered something. "How was it you said yourself, if I had cared to know people before judging them? How about you then master Thornden?”

There was silence between the men. Thornden was unsure whether Athanar had meant the question as one he should answer for real and Athanar had fell back into the expressionless half stare he pulled out at times. That puzzled Thornden.

Finally lord Athanar’s eyes set alight again and he broke the silence now looking back at Thornden in all frankness. “I don’t know if lord Eodwine ever taught you this, but if not, it is high time someone did.” He paused for a moment to heighten Thornden’s attention. “A lord needs to rule and act differently in different situations. At times a lord needs to be stern, even stone-cold, to exert his authority to the fullest. At other times he needs to be forgiving and lenient, even amiable if that comes naturally to him. The secret of great leadership lies in combining the two in a reasoned measure.”

Suddenly lord Athanar frowned. To Thornden it looked like he was suddenly overcome with sadness. Athanar toyed with his empty goblet for a short while before finally addressing Thornden. “So what should I do with you know?” he asked thoughtfully.

“I do admire your courage and your loyalty with your men. And you’re not one of those who boast more than they do, like so many young captains in the city seem to be. You have qualities to become a great leader Thornden, it is easy to see if you have eyes for it. But then again you have betrayed your lord more or less the first thing in your role as a seneschal to him.”

Lord Athanar looked at Thornden solemnly. “Tell me master Thornden, if you were me, how would you treat a man like you in this situation?” He nodded slightly to let Thornden understand he was in fact waiting for an answer this time.

[Folwren]

Thornden stared in disbelief and then broke eye-contact to glance about the room. He wanted to laugh and yell in exasperation at the same time. Anger built up in him and he decided suddenly what to say. His eyes snapped back to Athanar’s face.

“Do not toy with me, my lord. I will not pronounce my own judgment. You may do to me as you will, but I will stand firmly in defense of my men. My soldier did not skirmish – he defended the honor of Lady Saeryn. I can say nothing for Javan’s behavior, but he has been punished for that. And I say again that Lithor did not and would never mean harm or disrespect. I understand each group of men you lead must be led differently, but I am sure that you have truly misread the men here. You came and took over without any consideration that we were still mourning the loss of Lord Eodwine, and it is your fault those two men deserted you.”

[Thinlómien]

Wulfric stared blankly to the distance. Hilderinc hadn't told him anything he wanted to know - why did people follow a lord like Athanar, what were the qualities that made people admire him, what could make up for the unpredictability caused by feebleness of age so strangely entwined with sternness of character? Wulfric hungered to know what was it that his father did so well - and that he himself could do so much better if he only knew.

He was a determined man. If he put his mind to a thing, he did it. That was how he had become such an excellent swordsman at a young age, won the hearts of dozens of pretty maids and even mastered archery, an art of war he considered more fit for peasants than lords but a useful skill anyway. If his little brother Wilheard handled horses better, ran faster or wielded his spear more accurately than Wulfric, it was only because Wulfric hadn't bothered to try enough to be better.

So now I will learn the art of being a leader of men, women and children, instead of being just a captain of soldiers. I will keep my eyes and ears open, Wulfric thought. Sadly Hilderinc hadn't given him much to go on, if not a lesson on how trivial things soldiers based their loyalty on - give them coin and something to do and they are happy. It fit all the soldiers Wulfric knew well enough but he was certain that was not all a good leader needed to provide.

He realised he had been quiet for a long while after Hilderinc had finished his story. The soldier, seeming quiet by nature, had not said anything either, just let the silence stretch between them.

"Thank you for your story, Hilderinc. It was what I wanted to hear," Wulfric said. "But I'm afraid I am no good for further conversation tonight, and I sense you are restless to go your own way too. You may go, I have no further questions."

Hilderinc rose and bid his lord's son good night. Wulfric returned the wishes absent-mindedly, he was already hearing his future call - not the golden future he had envisioned once, but an honourable future earned with sweat, blood and beautiful words.

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar looked at Thornden in both disbelief and disappointment. Listening to Thornden's points he had shrunk back in his chair and had just looked both old and weary, but with Thornden's last words he got angry and very much alive. Suddenly he rose up and looked at Thornden straitght into the eye, his eyes flaming now.

"I hope you had left that last sentence back behind your teeth young man!" he said aloud, standing tall. There was no chance people around them wouldn't have noticed the incidence even if they hadn't heard the previous discussion between the two.

Lord Athanar was drawing breath deeply through his nostrils without letting his piercing eyes off Thornden. Wynflaed tried to calm him taking his hand and giving him a praying look. Most eveyone around them held their breath.

"Don't go anywhere, seneschal. That's an order! I need to..." for a moment he looked like he was rushing away but ended up looking uncertain as to how to proceed realising the people around having their eyes and ears open for what he was about to say. He was clearly having second thoughts now. Not the least because of his wife

Suddenly, and to the surprise of the people at their table, lord Athanar took his dagger from his belt and placed it beside his goblet. After glancing at Thornden he bent down and produced a short blade from his boot and laid it beside the dagger on the table. After that he stretched back straight and looked at Thornden.

"Just you and me Thornden, outside, we have a few things to iron out... And this cancels my earlier order..." he glanced around the table they had been sitting in to make sure they understood he would have none following them.

Without looking back at Thornden he rushed off the hall halting only for a short while with Coen and ordering him to see that no one came out from the hall trailing them.

[Folwren]

Ginna’s mention of dinner reminded Saeryn that she was hungry, despite the pre-occupation of Rándver’s letter. As they stood up, she told Ginna she would go sit with lord Athanar and lady Wynflaed. Ginna nodded and replied that she would see that food was brought out to her.

At the door of the kitchen, they parted, and Saeryn went towards the hall. She entered and looked across to where the lord and lady sat. Her seat beside Wynflaed was empty, but she was surprised to see the chair by Athanar not occupied by his oldest son, but by Thornden. Strange. He had been sitting with the men earlier.

She had not crossed half the distance to the nearest table before she saw Athanar rise in anger to give his reply to Thornden’s last rebuke. She heard only half of his words, but she saw the anger in his eyes and his whole being, and saw him draw his weapons before leaving. All her annoyance and anger and mistrust of Thornden caused by Rándver’s letter was swept out of her mind as worry for him replaced it. Whatever else was true, Thornden had been a rock and a steady foothold during this period of turmoil, and she felt to lose him now that Degas had gone again would be too hard to bear.

[Folwren]

"Just you and me Thornden," Athanar said, "outside. We have a few things to iron out. And this cancels my earlier order." And without speaking again, Athanar turned and left him.

Thornden sat momentarily very still, his eyes fixed on lord Athanar’s knife and dagger. Then he slowly rose and looked out at the men assembled there. Some were looking at him, and he could not help but meet the eyes of his old friends. After pausing just a moment, he, too, took the dagger from his belt and laid it beside Athanar’s and then stepped down from the table and followed lord Athanar.

Half way to the door, Saeryn intercepted him.

“You cannot go out there by yourself, Thornden,” she said, grasping his sleeve.

“Why not?” he asked, turning sharply.

“We don’t know what he’ll do!”

“He is our lord and my leader, and I have wronged him.”

A questioning look crossed her face. “How?”

“I will tell you later, if you do not know. But I must go and meet him.” Saeryn still held him. “He cannot hurt me, Saeryn. He has laid down his weapons.” He felt it would be dishonorable to point out to her that he was yet young and strong and Athanar past his prime in life, and so he left it unsaid.

Saeryn may have understood, for she let him go, but not without saying, “Be careful.”

Thornden turned at once and strode swiftly to the door and outside. He saw Athanar standing in the middle of the empty courtyard, the cold light of the moon and stars casting a pale shadow at his feet. Thornden came towards him and stopped several feet away. He waited for Athanar to speak.

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar waited for Thorndenin the middle of the yard and with his arrival he waved with his hand towards the biggest oak tree around under which there was a crude bench.

They walked towards the bench in silence and Thornden sat down after lord Athanar did and showed him to follow his example.

They were silent for a moment.

"You thought I was challenging you to a duel?" lord Athanar asked finally. His eyes were smiling now.

"Well, that thought passed my mind, but I thought not", Thornden answered truthfully.

Athanar laughed dryly. "Heh, this is irrelevant, I don't know about you and your skills, but I'd say I'd only lose lord Eodwine in wrestling three times out of five were he here and in form..."

There was a silence once again, now longer as both men thought about Eodwine, from their own angles; the one as a fellow nobleman from the war he knew and honoured, the other as the beloved leader in flesh and blood, virtues and vices.

"So Thornden, the question is how do we get back in."

Thornden looked puzzled. To lord Athanar it looked like he was thinking fiercely.

"I think I need to explain..." lord Athanar said slowly and leaned to the great oak.

"Yes, I was mad for a few seconds." He began in a slow voce. "I think you have already seen that I get carried away when pressed. My wife does a superb job in calming me down most of the times but sometimes even she can't hold me back..." He fell into his thoughts for a moment. "Oh my, my sons, they seem to have my temper but not my ability to cool down... yet. I hope some day..."

Thornden remained silent and waited for Athanar to continue.

"Okay, back to bussiness", Athanar said suddenly. "So how do we get back in?"

Thornden looked even more puzzled than before.

"If we go in amiably, like hands over each other's shoulders, or whatever, there will be no problem in a few days or weeks and we have time to work this out... if we go there with stern faces, not looking at each other, we have a great chance of a mutiny in a few days... if I go back there alone without you we have a rebellion this evening - and if you go alone I'd better go and pack fast to get my familyback to Edoras alive... whatever the King would then think about it, about me or you..."

Thornden nodded. He was following the thought now.

"Too many eyes and ears were at present for us to try to conceal the rift. And we're not going to solve it here and now... what you said makes me think again of how things were told to me - and maybe I should revisit my information about what happened on those forst hours - but it's hard for me to forget that easily my seneschal faulting me openly for two men turning outaws; like I was inspiring that Erbrand to stab my trusted soldier or encouraging them to defy the order... It seems to be complicated, like things in life are."

Thornden looked like willing to add his mind but lord Athanar hushed him silent as they both heard the doors opening and then saw the light spreading over the yard. They both recognized the form of Coen.

"Lord!" He called in half a voice looking into the darkness his eyes hadn't yet used to. "Is everything allright?"

"Yes it is Coen! Go back inside! We'll be there shortly"

They watched as Coen turned into a silhouette at the door and how the light suddenly disappeared from the yard as the door closed.

"So Thornden, which way should we enter the hall?" Athanar asked raising his eyebrows in the sudden darkness after the light.

[Folwren]

Thornden had difficulty finding his tongue for several seconds. He stared at the dark outline of Athanar without blinking, and then let out a breath.

“I do not understand you, my lord,” he said, finally. “Here I expected you to wish to beat me, and I find you trying to make it well. You leave angry enough to kill, by all appearances, and now you ask if we are to make it up and return back to the hall as equal friends, so that your men don’t split into yours against mine. Before I answer your question about how we are too enter, I must know – what are you going to do with me? What I said inside was true – though I did not say it in any manner than any could overhear – but that does not change the lie I gave you. And I will not go in with my hand upon your shoulder and yours on mine, if tomorrow I am to be hanged for aiding in the escape of a murderer and a deserter.”

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar shook his head and smiled all of a sudden.

"No one's going to get hanged master Thornden. I don't have the power or the will to execute anyone. That's what king does when he needs to."

He laid his hand on Thornden's shoulder. "I told you I have a temper, I thought you had noticed it already... but I have brains too." He was suddenly thinking of his own sons and wondering to himself when would they produce some brains to temper their character.

"Listen to me then. Now, no one else knows you lied to me, right?"

[Folwren]

Thornden's hope lifted. It looked as though Athanar meant to let this slide. Would he really be that fortunate, he wondered?

"I think that is so," Thornden replied to Athanar's question. "It is possible that one of your soldiers or Captain Coenred knows - was it he who told you? - but no one else, so far as I know. I have told no one."

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar looked at Thornden closely and thought then that he was speaking the truth.

"As long as it is not common knowledge - and as long as it stays that way - I have no reason to punish you in public. And what you said about the men of the Mead Hall defending lady Saeryn and all that has made me having second thoughts on my sources of information... I will get the truth of what happened back then, but it is not something I can get into right now, or something that should endanger the integrity of the Mead Hall we seem to be building up, even if ever so slowly."

He pushed Thornden's shoulder lightly and took his hand away from it. "I still don't like the fact that you lied to me, but I'm getting to understand why you did it. If what you say is true I could forgive you also outside the public eye. But that is pending for now..." He took a glance around to see no one was hearing them.

"But like I've said before, I like your frankness and fearlesness. Those are qualities of a good leader. If you serve me with all those qualities I can see budding in you this will be a small matter in the end."

Lord Athanar looked at Thornden with a slight smile. "So how will we enter master Thornden? In good terms or in bad ones?"

[Folwren]

Thornden smiled back, although he still did not understand. For him, it was the principle of the matter that would have decided the issue in his mind, not whether or no other men knew about it. But it had been clear from the very beginning that Athanar thought and acted very differently than he.

“As friends, my lord. You have treated me with unexpected lenience, and I thank you. I am glad that you are willing to see what I have tried to tell you, and I hope that soon, our men will be able to make friends and see eye to eye. But do not bring back up the trouble that the soldiers fought over that first day. Put it behind us all.”

[Nogrod]

"I will put it behind me in time master Thornden..." Athanar said thoughtfully.

"Sometimes justice needs to take the second seat when more pressing matters are at stake. Like you said, let us see the men of Scarburg pull it together. That's what we need, you and me." He smiled now openly.

"We had a rough start, but I think we're progressing" He laid his hand on Thornden's shoulder again. "Now, shall we?" He said and nodded towards the Hall.

[Folwren]

Thornden stood up, but stepped away from Athanar. "You go in, and I will follow just behind. It will be better that way."

Truth be told, he felt it was a little too friendly to enter in the manner Athanar wished to. To clasp another’s shoulder was to him a sign of close friendship and being comfortable in each other’s presence, but at this point, he felt neither for lord Athanar. He was willing to not be enemies, and to even follow Athanar as a lord and master, but not to show a close friendship yet.

I do no think the men will take it amiss. We neither of us are angry, and if we do not appear so, they will assume whatever quarrel we had has been taken care of. My place is to follow you, and so no one will think it wrong that I come after you into the hall. Please, let us go in that way.”

[Nogrod]

Athanar froze with Thornden's words and his eyes narrowed.

"Are you trying to say you turn down my offer?"

Thornden shook his head, exasperated again, but Athanar continued before he could answer.

"Now what is the part you don't understand? If we enter the Hall together in good terms everyone thinks things are okay, like I thought they were. But if we enter separately, there will be problems as people will think we're not in terms together... or is there a problem I don't see? Speak now. I need to know if there is still something you haven't come clean with me."

"There is nothing, sir!" Thornden said. "We will be entering together, just not as though we were perfect friends coming back from a friendly chat. A moment ago, I was leaving expecting to have to defend myself in a fight. We don't need to go back embracing each other!"

Suddenly lord Athanar broke into laughter and pat Thornden on the shoulder. "No we don't," he said smiling "It will take time for us to become perfect friends after all this, but I do hope we can become a good working-pair rather sooner than later... Now, let's get back inside."

[Nogrod]

After they had dealt with the local lords, and Athanar and Thornden had had that not-unobserved incident together, the next day was an odd one. The soldiers felt heightened comradery but there was a rift there as speculation was bubbling as to what the row of their superiors had been about and were there still some issues that were not settled even iof they had re-entered the Hall more or less amiably.

Athanar noticed it and decided to act immediately. So the next day, to a great surprise of all the eorlinga exercising, he rode into the meadow lightly armed like all the other men. After following the various drills for a short while he actually joined them going for the attacking and defending formation-training as one on the line on this or that side – at times advising Coen and Thornden how to lead the exercise, and even taking some time to instruct individual younger soldiers at times to correct the angle of their spear, or to lean differently to the mount when coming near to an impact, or how to anticipate a hit if the opponent’s spear was in a certain angle and so forth.

He was older than the men he commanded and it was clear he was generally not that fast the younger ones were on average, but his positioning and timing made an impression, especially to the former Scarburg men who had not seen him in action before – his own men knew already he had not lost all he was and had as a soldier. And it was easy to see he was enjoying himself.

After they had taken the exercises lord Athanar called everyone to gather in a formation and eyed them with a smile, still breathing heavily after the effort. “Listen men of Scarburg! I hear and see there is some confusion over what happened between me and my seneschal Thornden the day before yesterday. Let me tell you – and Thornden here can confirm what I say”, he glanced at Thornden nodding ever so lightly.

“There is no problem anymore. It was a question of disinformation concerning some events of the day of our arrival. And that has now been cleared. I bear no ill-will for Thornden, or anyone of you…” here he made a pause and eyed the men closely, first narrowing his eyes but then turning to a smile. “A lot of things happened that day – and you all know much of it better than I do. But I say that is now past and behind us, past between you and past with me. We’re the men of Scarburg and we have a lot to do and we must not only live together but to work together and stand for each other if needs be. You’re soldiers and you know that. Hail eorlinga!”

The men answered raising their spears and called “Hail eorlinga”.

With that he turned to Thornden and Coen and nodded to implicate he was done and the day’s drill was over.


~*~


The next month was busy time. The winter was coming. It was pushing it’s advance week by week and everyone worked full steam as there was a lot to accomplish. The loads of building materials and equipment sent by king Eomer proved invaluable, and with the great number of men the Mead Hall now boasted the pace of the work advancing was considerable.

Athanar relied on the resident professionals with overseeing the work done as he had not brought any smiths, masons or carpenters with him having been told by the king there were enough of quality-craftsmen there already. But he did have this and that to say about many general designs. Sometimes his plans were met with approval by Garstan, Stigend and Harreld, but not all of them.

For example he insisted in building another spacious room upstairs to the wing where the rooms he and Wynflaed lived, for any upcoming noble visitors. Garstan and Stigend thought it unnecessary looking at the timetable and their supplies, but Athanar kept his head.

Another thing that raised some controversy was building a second floor also on to the long side of the building. The craftsmen thought all rooms for the soldiers and household should be kept on the ground level to make them more accessible but also here lord Athanar kept his mind – and in the end Garstan and Stigend had to admit at least the fact that the great fireplace on the hall - after it was widened under the orders of lord Athanar – did actually also warm the added rooms upstairs.

So in the end of the month there were two storeys of rooms on the long side of the building: the common soldiers and some of the household living on the ground floor and then officers, older soldiers and craftsmen’s families living on the upper floor. On the upper floor there were a few guestrooms for occasional visitors, and on the lower floor a few more to more common visitors. On the short end of the building there was the kitchen and the apartments of the cooks beside it on the ground level; on the upper floor were the rooms of Athanar and his household, Saeryn, Degas and others of any rank plus the empty room for any really high-end guests.

The most important thing though was that when the first days of freezing came upon them all the Scarburgians were under a roof and in relative warmth – and so were their animals. The stables had been enlargened a bit to hold room for some more horses they had –thus far it had been overcrowded in there. Also they had built a small barnhouse to bring in the pigs, chicken and the few heads of cattle they had, the new ones received from the local lords as part of the payment. The lambs were a problem but even they had a light shed and the plan was they should be accommodated the next into a more convenient structure – maybe moving some or all of the chicken with them to free room from the barn.

The kitchen was also working now having two solid fireplaces and a finished oven instead of the intermediate structures a month ago. And the well had been given a steadier lifting-structure so that one could lift more water with lesser effort… the advantages of more permanent structures.

There was lot to do and to finish, but Scarburg Mead Hall was ready to face the winter.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

It was morning and Hilderinc was standing in the courtyard next to his horse, fully clad in armor, and the bright sun was rising from above the forest near Scarburg. Lord Athanar was standing in the saddle, along with Thornden to his left hand and Falco, clad in chainmail, to his right side. Lord Athanar was speaking for a long time and explaining the need to make the local landlords acknowledge the King's rule, and that today the time has come to show them the proper authority. Then everybody mounted their horses, but it was at that point when Hilderinc realised that he had forgotten his sword somewhere. He was feeling really embarassed, but there wasn't time to look for the weapon, because Thornden was calling them to go, and they rode out, followed by laden carts, carrying lord Athanar's personal belongings, because, as Hilderinc remembered, they were moving from Scarburg to lord Friduhelm's hold.

"It will be more comfortable there," Hilderinc said aloud, and suddenly they were descending some steep slope towards Friduhelm's hall, which looked like a small fortress. All the way, Hilderinc had been thinking that he had something important to tell to Coen, something concerning Thornden or maybe Falco, but he couldn't find him anywhere. He was beginning to wonder whether lord Athanar had exchanged Coen for Falco as his new captain, but then suddenly lord Friduhelm came out of the building, surrounded by guards, and openly challenged Athanar.

"You have no right to come to my doorstep!" he yelled. "If you want war, this is what you will get, and I won't stop until either of us is driven beyond Isen!"

Then Hilderinc realised that this was what he had been fearing, that now a great war will engulf the Mark, until either Athanar or Friduhelm are dead. That is terrible, he was thinking, and just yesterday they were like brothers to each other! And now he also realised with pain that he was still lacking his sword, and how was he supposed to fight without it?

He started looking around desperately, when suddenly Wulfric emerged from a nearby barn with a flower in his hair, carrying Hilderinc's sword.

"Here you go," he said.

"Thank you," Hilderinc muttered, wondering why Wulfric hid his sword in Friduhelm's barn. But there was no time to deliberate, because Friduhelm's men were already moving forward, surrounding Athanar's soldiers, and Hilderinc had to join the fight. Strange soldiers were attacking him from the right and left, and suddenly, he saw Falco among them, man-sized and accompanying Friduhelm. Hilderinc turned his sword against him and started chasing the big hobbit across the battlefield.

Then, a noise of steps, movement and muffled voices woke him up. Next to him, Baldwic was getting up, and other soldiers were also awakening. It was again morning in Scarburg and faint light could be seen coming in from the outside. Hilderinc rubbed his eyes and was gazing for a while at the wooden ceiling. Then he slowly got up as well. Before he got dressed, washed himself and went to have some breakfast, he had completely forgotten about the dream he had, nor had he remembered it in the following weeks, nor had a dream like this come to him any more during his nights in Scarburg in the following weeks.

[littlemanpoet]

They let the horses have their heads. The trip could be made at a gallop in six hours, or at a walk in maybe fourteen. They had covered most of the journey from Edoras to Scarburg the previous day, and had sought refuge with one of the landholders overnight, an old man by the name of Friduhelm, whose son seemed not at all pleased with his father's hospitality to the three visitors, but Eodwine didn't let that bother him.

Winter birds were singing in the cold morning air. "Let it be a walk," Eodwine thought. He was eager to see Saeryn and the others, but it was not a meeting that had to be hurried to. Falco and Rowenna were with him, wrapped in cloaks and furs against the cold. He had allowed them to do most of the talking. Which meant Falco, for the most part. It allowed Eodwine to reflect back on his words with King Eomer.

"I will have you know, Eodwine,” the king had said, “that since every word from our healers and from those at Mundburg were that you were not likely to live, it was needful to have a new eorl in Scarburg who would be there to the end of his days. Do you remember Athanar?"

Eodwine had been taken aback, but saw the king's point. "Yes, I do. He is a good man; headstrong, but good."
The king smiled. "He is the new eorl. Will you return to Scarburg to stay, as a freeman holding Athanar as your eorl, or would you go elsewhere with your new wife?"
"I do have lands in Westfold I could rebuild on, but I think I need time, and I would not make Saeryn travel while she is with child. If Athanar is the eorl, and I am to be at Scarburg, I will pledge my sword and duty to him as long as I am there. Does that satisfy the king's curiosity?"

"Aye, it does," the king had replied. "Help him, Eodwine. He will need it. The Middle Emnet has fallen to lawlessness and wilfullness among its Eorling landholders. Your counsel is wise, and he will be glad of it, and I will be glad of your presence there. And care for your wife."

"I will do as you ask, my lord." It wasn't really much to ask, he supposed.

Eodwine had also paid a visit to Garreth the Smith, only to find that he had sold the place off to another, and had left for Scarburg only two weeks before. So Harreld had prevailed upon him to join them at Scarburg. Interesting. Was there enough for two smiths there now? Maybe Athanar had brought that many men with him. It was more food for thought.

Eventually, they turned one last corner and Scarburg came in sight. It was hard to tell from a distance how much it had changed. “We shall have a look see,” Eodwine murmured.

[Folwren]

Since the messenger had come the previous day bringing word from Edoras that Eodwine was coming, everyone at Scarburg had been working hard to prepare the Hall for his homecoming. The news had caused a reaction much like a stick in an anthill.

Everything had calmed and settled since Athanar's arrival at Scarburg. Distrust and disagreement had died down or been smoothed over. The news of Eodwine's immediate return, however, brought hidden feelings back to the surface. New doubts and questions came into some people's minds. Would Eodwine take his old place as Eorl? If he did, would Athanar go back to Edoras? If he did not, what would Eodwine do? Would he and Saeryn go to Edoras, perhaps? They could not have two eorls at Scarburg, and the men who had served Eodwine and known him as lord still considered him their leader.

Saeryn was oblivious to these feelings in the men. Her thoughts were wholly on making the place as much like home as she could, and on how eager she was to see him again. She had recieved his letter nearly a month ago, telling her that he had woken and was mending and intended to return. Falco had gone to him in Minas Tirith, but since then, she had not heard from him and she had no idea that he was back in the Mark, much less in Edoras and on his way home.

And so when the day of his arrival dawned, Saeryn was already out of bed and at work. She could not be still. Most of the work had been done the previous day already, but she still found things to put her hand to. Kara and Fordides begged her to sit down and rest, but she put them off until there was absolutely nothing left to be done.

"I shall ride out to meet him," she announced.

"You cannot ride out to meet him!" Fordides objected. "A woman in your state does not ride out to meet anybody."

Kara looked at her and tried to convince her more gently. "Eodwine would not wish it, Saeryn. You should not go out in this weather on a horse."

Saeryn smiled a little at them, but did not answer either one of them. After a few moments, when the conversation had turned and Kara and Fordides were discussing something between themselves, Saeryn slipped out. She wrapped herself warmly before going out to the stables and finding her horse. She avoided Leof as she fetched the animal and took him out to saddle and bridle him.

With a little difficulty, but not much, she succeeded in hefting the saddle up onto the horse's back and then cinching him up herself. Mounting was another obstacle she had no considered with her swollen belly, but this, too, she overcame by finding a bucket to give her extra height to mount him from. She swung up into the saddle and breathed a sigh both of relief and excitement. It had been three months since she had last ridden, and she loved to be back on her horse again.

She only had a moment to reflect on this when she heard Leof entering the stables. Quickly, she gathered her reins and urged her horse into a walk, and then a trot, and she exited the place before Leof could protest or try to stop her.

They were out in the cold winter air. It stung her cheeks and her eyes, but it filled her with life and excitement. Her horse lifted his head and whinnied, his breath clouding before his nostrils, and then they went off at a brisk trot up the sloping hill away from Scarburg and towards the road, and towards Eodwine.

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar was having an early breakfast for the day in the Hall when Modtryth suddenly broke in from the kitchen.

"Sir, lord, excuse me..." She began clearly agitated by something.

Lord Athanar looked at her displeased for interrupting his thoughts. But it was done now anyway.

"So what is it Modryth?" he said, glancing at her and biting on his bread.

"My lord, I'm afraid lady Saeryn is doing something she shouldn't do... I overheard her in the kitchen... and saw her slip away from there."

Athanar was confused for a moment as to what Modtryth was talking about, but after seeing the recognisable figure of Leof running in the yard in exasperation through the grey-stained window by the door he suddenly realised what Modtryth was trying to tell him.

"The child!" Modtryth cried at the very same moment Athanar sprang up from his chair.

The few men sitting in the Hall were staring at the two while Athanar scanned around to see anyone he could send after her immediately. And his eyes found Hilderinc from the back of the hall.

"Hilderinc, ride after lady Saeryn, towards Edoras, and make her stop this folly! A miscarried child to a man who almost died and would be here today?" He shook his head. "Ride now!"

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Hilderinc had just stuffed his mouth with an egg yolk when the commotion started. It became clear to him in a hearbeat that something had gone terribly wrong. He gulped fast, and when Athanar sprang up and called him, he was immediately up too. Few of the other bewildered soldiers were still looking around as to what was going on, but Hilderinc was already running out of the door after shouting promptly "Yes, sir!" and spitting the remains of the egg from in between his teeth all over the table.

The cold air outside almost smashed him into the face, if such a thing was possible. Unhappily, he was forced to realise that he had not taken his fur cloak with him, but only much lighter clothes he had been wearing at the Hall, not thinking that he won't have time to fetch more of his stuff before leaving the warmth of the building. There was no time for going back, however, that much he knew. Order was an order and the circumstances were not really favourable – there was obviously far much more at stake than him catching a cold. Hopefully, he thought, I left a spare fur cloak somewhere in the saddlebags.

The good chestnut horse from Edoras, who had managed to grow rather fond of Hilderinc in the last month – and vice versa – was waiting for him, but much to his dismay, the soldier found out that there were no spare winter clothes in the saddlebags, nor anything which he could borrow left behind in any nearby place in the stables. Cursing the young "stablemaster" - as he had not ceased to call Léof even in a month – for his undue tidiness, he rode out into the chilly late autumn morning.

The road downhill was easy enough to ride, and soon Hilderinc pushed his stallion to full speed. His hands on the reins were freezing, and much more could be said about his uncovered head, but he had no time to worry about that now. He hoped that the lady had not gone too far, and he was putting his hopes on the fact that Saeryn would not drive her horse in full speed. That, he thought, would actually be the worst thing she should do... and I may very well be late. He had not fully realised it, but he was in fact frightened, and terrified at the very thought.

Riding past a clump of trees, another view opened in front of him and he suddenly saw a lonely horse with a rider trotting down somewhere in front of him, not too far, but still quite well ahead. She was now in the lowest point of the road nearby, whereas further on, the road climbed up with the scar on its right side, and following it with his eyes, Hilderinc noticed a few small black shapes appearing atop the hill; from her position, she probably could not see them yet. He did not slow down, but hurried down the road; it briefly crossed his mind that if the wet ground was frozen in the cold morning and either of the horses managed to slip on it... he didn't want to imagine.

There could be no doubt the black shapes on top of the hill were people on horses, but now also it was obvious that he was catching up on Saeryn; soon she will notice him, if she hadn't already. Hilderinc did not want to startle her, but then again, he wanted her to stop, if possible. He gave out first a rather inarticulate cry as he was diving down the road, and then forced himself to give it a clearer form.

"My lady!" he shouted. "Lady Saeryn!" While at the same moment a different thought was crossing his mind: Stupid women, he thought. Stupid women...

[Folwren]

“My lady!”

She heard the hale behind her, but her eyes were on the road ahead. She did not want to turn, to acknowledge that call.

“Lady Saeryn!”

Poor man sounded desperate. But Saeryn was desperate, too. She trained her eyes upward to the top of the hill and then turned and looked over her shoulder. It was Hilderinc. He was probably sent with an order. She looked forward again and began to draw her rein.

But then, over the crest of the hill, she saw riders coming. Against the pale blue sky, they were just dark silhouettes without recognizable features, but Saeryn knew them almost at once. The one on the right was only small enough to be a hobbit, and the one on the left was a woman. Eodwine rode in the center. She could not mistake him.

She forgot about Hilderinc behind her. She forgot about the child within her. She forgot everything except for Eodwine as she dug her heels into her horse’s side and bent over his neck. He sprang forward eagerly, taking the hill with powerful strides, galloping up towards her dear, beloved husband.

[littlemanpoet]

She kept a careful eye on Eodwine, and had asked Falco to do the same. Not without reason. She thought back to the king's words. He had pulled her aside.

"Lady Rowenna, Eodwine is not yet well, and the trip from Mundburg to Meduseld has been harder on him than he would admit. Keep an eye on him, mayhap both eyes."

She had given her word, and was glad that Eodwine had decided to make but a slow way from Edoras. She looked at him now, within sight of Scarburg, and saw that he was pale, and sweating at the brow despite the cold. Her brow furrowed and she exchanged glances with Falco Boffin. He looked worried also.

They crested the last hill and heard someone far off calling out a name, desperation in his voice. She recognized the name: Lady Saeryn, and looked. There was her friend on horseback, pushing her mount to a gallop up the hill.

"Lord, it is your wife!" she said. "She should not-"

"I know. Do not call me lord. She should not. He raised his hand in a gesture meant to tell her to slow down, but she seemed to only come faster, as if she took it for recognition and greeting.

Eodwine

There was a reason he was taking a slow pace. He felt weak, unwell. He did his best to act as if all was well - he did not want Falco or Rowenna to worry - but his whole body felt full of ache. Maybe it had been too soon to leave the Houses of Healing. But done was done, and here came Saeryn galloping toward them. He raised his hand to try to slow her down, but felt too weary to speak, and his hand dropped, shakily to his side.

Saeryn slowed now, having come near. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks rosy, excitement and love were written in her expression. It was indeed good to see her, very good. Eodwine stopped his horse and sat up as straight as he could manage in his weariness. He forced a smile.

"Saeryn. It is good to see you." It seemed a formal greeting in its words once they were out of his mouth, but his tone bespoke his heart, and her features softened. She came near, words of happy greeting on her lips, but they stopped; for she saw his face, and her brow furrowed in care.

Suddenly the world began to spin, the earth and sky trading places. He could feel himself begin to slip from the saddle.

[Folwren]

Saeryn reached out and grasped Eodwine’s arm. She steadied him as best she could in saddle. He bent forward over the saddle bow, limp and weak.

“Eodwine! Eodwine, are you still sick?” Saeryn cried. She held him first with one hand, and then she released her horse’s reins and reached out with both hands, trying hard to keep him secure in his saddle. He was slipping away, slowing going over his horse’s far shoulder.

From the corner of her eye, Saeryn saw Rowenna swing down from her horse and hurry over to Eodwine’s side. Together, and with some effort put for from Eodwine, they lowered him to the ground. When Saeryn could no longer help, she dismounted hastily, though neither swiftly nor very gracefully, and hurried around Eodwine’s horse and knelt beside her husband. He sat on the ground, half leaning on Rowenna as she knelt on one knee between him and his horse’s feet. Saeryn took his hand.

“Eodwine, why are you riding while you are unwell?”

Eodwine raised his head slowly and looked up at Saeryn with a wan smile. "I wasn't unwell when I left Mundburg. At least I thought not. Maybe I was too hasty to see you. But no, there is no such thing as haste when it comes to closing the distance between us.” He raised his hand and touched her face. "Saeryn, my love, I have missed you." His eyes glistened.

It broke Saeryn's heart to hear him and see his tears. She longed to take him in her arms and just hold him, but there were too many people about. Rowenna sat just by, and Hilderinc was just now trotting up to them. She stood up, letting go of Eodwine’s hand.

“Hilderinc,” she said. “Held lord Eodwine back on his horse. Ride behind him to keep him steady. I will take your horse back with mine.”

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

As Saeryn heard Hilderinc's call, he saw her slowing down. With a sigh of relief, he let go and galloped – still with considerable speed, but not with such a deadly one as before – down towards her. It took only a few yards, however, until suddenly Saeryn's horse broke into a gallop again.

Hilderinc cursed under his breath, he was infuriated. Such a thing happened very rarely to him, he wasn't of the kind to get easily agitated, but this time it was so. What new devilry is this? it crossed his mind. Then he looked on top of the hill. She must have seen the incoming riders, too. At the same time, he sped up again, desperate with the effort.

He arrived to the meeting point only shortly after Saeryn. Now he felt stupid. Eodwine and Saeryn were greeting each other, as if nothing special was happening, as if he had ridden this terrible way without cloak with freezing hands and face for naught. Better safe than sorry, it occured to him, but it did not give too much comfort. The fact that he saw Falco riding by Eodwine's side did not add much to his happiness. For some reason, even now the sight of the holbytla seemed instinctively somewhat like an ill omen to him, even though consciously maybe he got to know Falco as rather normal fellow.

As Hilderinc was trying to catch his breath – he felt almost as exhausted as his horse must have felt - he looked at Eodwine with curiosity. So this is the man for whom there's been all the trouble, he thought, remembering all the things that have happened during the previous month, grumbling of Athanar's soldiers about having to move to the middle of nowhere, the clashes between them and over-loyal old Scarburgians and the worries about his illness he had heard from them. Eodwine looked to him like a charismatic type, even though the traces of his illness were still visible in his face; his movements were somewhat weary. Now that Hilderinc was thinking about it, Eodwine seemed vaguely familiar to him – it wasn't unimaginable that he could have seen him somewhere during the years of his service.

There was another rider coming with Eodwine and Falco, and when Hilderinc saw her, he immediately straightened himself in the saddle. It was a young and rather beautiful woman, even though wrapped in a traveling cloak, and Hilderinc caught himself smoothing his ruffled hair. He had no time to further improve his appearance, however, since suddenly Eodwine started slipping from his saddle. Faster than he thought he would be able to, Hilderinc spurred his horse to get to Saeryn's side, even though his heart again almost stopped at the sight of her catching her falling husband.

"Hilderinc, held lord Eodwine back on his horse. Ride behind him to keep him steady. I will take your horse back with mine."

Hilderinc was once again infuriated at the words. As if she was the one to talk about riding in hazardous conditions. However, he did as he was commanded, and he did not let face show any emotion. Feeling the looks of everyone at himself, including the other woman, he acted as if it took him no effort to help Eodwine to the saddle, and then he mounted as well.

"Only you should not have ridden here in your condition, my lady," he spoke towards Saeryn as he had positioned himself on the horse. "Lord Athanar was worried about you. Now you saw that your husband is not well, perhaps you should also be careful when getting back to the Hall." A thought even crossed his mind about asking Saeryn to wait there until he would bring Eodwine to the Hall and then return for her possibly with someone or even with a cart so that she does not have to ride, but it was obvious to him after what he saw that she won't just wait. So he remained silent and only cast a beseeching look at Falco, hoping that if something happened, the holbytla will see to Saeryn not doing anything stupid. In any case, now Hilderinc intended to ride back slowly, despite the biting cold, and thus force also Saeryn to ride slowly, as he hoped that she would want to remain close to her husband.

And so I seem to have found myself with a bunch of people who should, above all, have rest. Both her and him, it seems, he thought. And then a very, very old memory sprang to his mind: Lovers can be driven to do the most irrational things. He chased the thought away.

[Folwren]

Hilderinc obeyed Saeryn’s request without a word. Saeryn and Rowenna stood by, their hands hovering about Eodwine until he was safely in the saddle. Rowenna held the horse’s head while Hilderinc mounted up behind Eodwine and took the reins.

“Only you should not have ridden here in your condition, Saeryn,” he said. Saeryn, who had turned away to go back to her horse, stopped in her tracks and turned slowly about to face him. He looked directly at her. “Lord Athanar was worried about you. Now you saw that your husband is not well, perhaps you should also be careful when getting back to the hall.”

“Mind your tongue, soldier. Neither you nor he has any right to say when or where I can ride. My condition is my own concern, and I’d thank you to make no comment on it. And it is in my right to come and meet my husband, especially as he is unwell.”

She turned away without waiting for a reply. “Rowenna, can you help me on to my horse, and then bring Hilderinc’s horse to me so I can lead him?”

[littlemanpoet]

"Of course, Lady Saeryn," Rowenna replied.

She had seen the careful glances of this Hilderinc had been sending her way, and smiled inside. Typical man. He probably thought that she did not notice him sit straighter in the saddle, or speak so boldly to Saeryn just as much for her own benefit as for Saeryn's.

This Hilderinc seemed to be somewhat older than she, and he probably did not know that she was born of higher station than a soldier. He would probably be surprised to find out what kind of mettle she had gained in the last three years. It had changed her way of thinking about everything, especially men. Still, he did not appear a bad sort, for all that. And she guessed that he was not a mere soldier at arms.

But Eodwine and Saeryn needed her attention.

"Falco, be a good Hobbit and keep your friend awake in the saddle if you can, with all your talk."

"I will do that, Lady Rowenna," he replied. "Mind you, I would have given aid had it been asked of me, but you Big People take up too much space and are quick to think we are of little use. Eodwine, my friend, I hope that your time in the Shire taught you differently and you can help me teach these Eorlings a thing or two about how to treat a Hobbit properly?"

Eodwine chuckled weakly. "In time, my friend, in time."

Rowenna allowed a smile to come to her lips. Falco had been a good companion, and she was sure he knew her better than his words suggested. He cared very much about his friend, and she appreciated him the more for that. Let him say what he would. Slowly they made their way into Scarburg.

[Firefoot]

No sooner had Léof returned to the stables after a hearty breakfast than he heard the whinny of a horse outside. Surely Eodwine could not be here already? But he felt hopeful nevertheless, and went to check.

No one was approaching, but someone was trotting off up the road. For a moment, Léof thought nothing of it, until he recognized the horse and rider with a start. Lady Saeryn! But what did she think she was doing? And how had she managed to saddle and mount the horse all on her own? Had Léof thought about it at all, he might have realized that his belief in the fragility and helplessness of pregnant women was utterly at odds with Saeryn’s daily behavior. He did not think of it, however, and thus his immediate conclusion was that she must be in need of help (perhaps even rescue), for regardless of how capable she might be, she was surely crazy.

He hesitated, frozen with indecision. Ought he to tell someone? There was no time! She might already be in some sort of danger by then. Just as he made up his mind to rush after her himself, however, Hilderinc rode out of the stables, passing Léof without noticing him. Hilderinc quickly pushed his horse to a faster pace, and Léof realized that someone else must have noticed Saeryn leave and raised the alarm. Well then. It would do no good for him to ride out as well; by the time he got Æthel saddled up, she would be worlds ahead of him. He looked out at her retreating silhouette again – was she really galloping that horse!? Though Léof had no doubts of Saeryn’s riding ability, he was now more convinced than ever that her pregnancy had addled her wits, and here he was left to wait and fret over her safety and that of her horse. Thankfully, the road was a good one; unless she left it for some reason (a reason that only a pregnant woman might think sane), the horse was extremely unlikely to step in any holes.

[Durelin]

Coen joined his men at table in the hall. They were all beginning to seem like his men, but he was afraid that would soon change. With Eodwine’s return, how would they feel about a Captain loyal to the ‘new’ lord? It would be as if Athanar had just arrived, all over again. The way people had carried on when Eodwine was sick so many leagues away in Gondor…how much worse would they be now that their golden man was back?

It didn’t matter what kind of man Eodwine was. Obviously he was the kind who encouraged loyalty from his people. And did he have a loyalty to them and this hall that he would feel he had to be lord? Would he see Athanar as a usurper, a strong-handed new lord who was abusing his dear people? Coen could see Thornden telling Eodwine his story of what had happened since Lord Athanar’s arrival. He would spin the tale of poor Erbrand and Lithor who suffered injustice at Athanar’s hands.

Coen looked over the soldiers, eyeing them all for whatever he could observe about their thoughts. There was a strange feel about the Hall in general. “Where’s Hilderinc?” he asked, noticing him missing.

“Chasing after the Lady Saeryn at the lord’s order. She apparently rode out, with child and all.”

Coen’s brow creased in a combination of confusion and consternation. He looked around the hall, looking toward Lord Athanar’s seat at the high table, but he was not there. Was he preparing to greet Eodwine? Perhaps he should have sought his lord out to help prepare whatever welcome Athanar thought was suitable; or he should get the men looking more presentable… But he wanted nothing to do with this.

[Folwren]

Falco rode ahead on his pony into Scarburg, but Saeryn stayed close by Eodwine’s horse, pulling Hilerinc’s horse by the bridle rein. By the time they arrived, Falco was already dismounted from his pony, speaking to Léof. When they came into sight, Léof immediately came away from Falco and hurried over the meet them.

“Léof, hold Eodwine’s horse,” Saeryn said. Léof went and held the horse’s bridle. By the time Hilderinc had dismounted, Saeryn already was off her horse and leading nearer the two animals in her charge. She watched in painful anticipation while Hilderinc carefully helped Eodwine down from the horse and then supported him once he stood.

“Quickly, take these horses,” she said hastily. She handed them off and then went swiftly to Eodwine’s side and slipped her shoulders under his arm to give him support. “Lean on me, Eodwine,” she said. “Do you remember when I returned to Scarburg? I was sick, too.” She smiled up at him. “You were able to heal me then. Now it is my turn to help you.”

[Lhunardawen]

"He's back! Lord Eodwine's here!" Kara screamed as she sprinted into the kitchen as fast as the tray full of dirty plates she carried allowed her. Frodides looked up from the pile of potatoes on her chopping board. "Oh!" she exclaimed, putting down her knife and wiping her hands on her apron. She walked around the table towards Kara. "How is he? Does he need to eat? And Saeryn? Is she well?"

"She's well, but he doesn't seem so. I will go back outside to ask if he wants some food. And Frodides, he did not come alone. Rowenna is with him."

"Rowenna, eh? That's good, I could use another pair of hands here. Now off you go and tell me if I need to prepare food for one or two."

As Kara hurried back outside Frodides returned to her work, muttering as she went. "That Saeryn! I hope her child does not grow up to be as stubborn as she!"

All the while, Ginna stood in front of her dough, kneading it as though it was the only thing that mattered. She had asked Saeryn to teach her how to bake a few weeks ago and unexpectedly learned it quickly. Her baking passed Frodides's standards and the task was delegated to her. It gave her something else to busy herself with. A reason to stay in the kitchen more. To go out into the hall less.

Thankfully Kara and Modtryth did not mind. Besides, Saeryn could not be stopped from helping them, but now her husband had returned. That would be where Rowenna stepped in.

"Ginna?" Frodides's voice penetrated her thoughts. "You are silent. Are you not glad of the lord's return?"

The girl smiled. "Of course I am. But I am worried about him, and Saeryn too. And Frodides," she added, lowering her voice, "I do not think it would be wise to call him lord in Athanar's or his followers' hearing. He is no longer the lord of Scarburg."

"You are right. I do not know if I can ever unlearn the habit. But I think we are safe from anyone else's hearing here in the kitchen."

Ginna smiled again. The silence returned. She focused on the movement of her hands, on the dough stretching between her fingers. Because if she did not, she would think about how she could not ask Eodwine for help when he had more pressing matters to attend to, the foremost being his own health.