Scarburg Meadhall

[Firefoot]

As hesitant as Léof had been to offer his real opinion, he was still unprepared for the looks of astonishment and hostility that instantly sprang to the faces of every soldier at the table. It hadn’t been that outlandish of an idea. And he hadn’t said that he wanted Athanar to leave, only that he thought he would. Evidently it was much the same thing in the eyes of the soldiers.

“You really mean that,” Quin marveled. “You really thought that he might go?” Léof mentally pleaded for Quin to understand. If Quin couldn’t, there was no way any of the others would.

“Impudence,” muttered Scyrr. “After all lord Athanar has done for you…”

Suddenly Léof was furious. After all Athanar had done for him? What exactly did Scyrr think Athanar had done for him? Allowed him to keep a position he had long since earned? A position which hardly any of Athanar’s men seemed to take seriously, even though their presence here had probably doubled the amount of work he had to do? He was treated like a boy, like a joke, and what did Athanar do about it? Eodwine had treated him with respect! Everyone in Eodwine’s household did! Was it any wonder that he might wish for Athanar to leave? For things to go back to the way they were?

He was just about to open his mouth with a heated and very poorly thought-out reply when Coenred interrupted the conversation by saying, “You’ve all lingered enough at table. Those of you who have duties this morning better get to them.” Most of the soldiers then got up and left, ignoring Léof or shooting him one last look of disbelief. As Scyrr got up, he left Léof with one last comment: “You’d better watch your tongue, stableboy. It might get you into trouble.”

Stableboy! Léof shot to his feet, fists clenched and jaw tight. If he’d dared, he would have taken Scyrr on right then and there, but Léof still held it in his mind that Scyrr was several inches taller, quite a bit heavier, and a trained soldier to boot. He wouldn’t stand a chance. So instead he stalked off towards the stables without a word, walking as quickly as he could without running. He thought he heard Thornden call his name, but Léof ignored him. He didn’t know what it was he was planning to do but it was plain that he had to do something. Get out of here for a while.

Upon reaching the stable he jerked Æthel out of her stall and tied her in the aisle. She stamped and tossed her head nervously, but Léof heedlessly left her to fetch her tack. His mind was filled with the things he could do to get back at Scyrr and the other soldiers who had treated him so badly. Put stinging nettle in their bedrolls. Hide their weapons. Damage their weapons. Put their horses out to pasture just before they’d be needed. Injure their horses so they couldn’t ride.

Wait – injure their horses? What was he thinking? Suddenly his legs felt weak and he sat down heavily on the floor in the tack room, bridle clenched in one hand. He was shaking all over. Injure their horses? Léof drew in a ragged breath. And to think he’d been about to take Æthel out riding in this mood! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless, this out of control –

In a moment he would go back out and put Æthel back in her stall, but just yet he didn’t want to do anything. Didn’t want to think about how close he’d come to totally losing it. To putting Æthel in danger with his recklessness. He couldn’t afford to lose his head so completely. The potential results… he couldn’t bear to think of them.

[Folwren]

Thornden had not heard what Léof said. Ceonred had spoken at that moment. But he instantly felt the change in the attitude around the table, and it wasn’t from what Coenred said.

In fact, Coenred’s reply had once more taken Thornden aback. Not that his words had anything to disagree with, more that he regretted a misunderstanding, however small, to have sprung from something he said. He had not meant that Athanar would not be able to keep control of his hall. He had merely meant that if some of Eodwine’s old followers had attempted to put Eodwine in his old place, Eodwine would have declined the offer firmly, and thereby stopped any uprising before it even began. No one would force Eodwine into a position he did not want.

But these thoughts and explanations had to go unsaid, for Coenred stood up immediately and ordered everyone to their daily business. Most of the men got up immediately and walked away. Thornden rose, too, but paused a moment, intending to ask one of the soldiers about the condition of the weapons in the weaponry. Before he addressed him, he saw Scyrr rise and turn towards Léof.

“You’d better watch your tongue, stableboy. It might get you into trouble.”

Thornden turned to look just as Léof leapt to his feet, a look of insult and fury clear on his face, and Thornden truly feared that he would assault Scyrr that instant. But he did not. Instead, he stormed out, heading no doubt for the stables.

“Léof, wait a moment!” Thornden called. But he did not wait. Perhaps he did not hear. “What did he say?” he asked, aloud, turning back around.

“Something about lord Athanar,” the soldier replied. “I don’t know, I didn’t hear. They were talking about Eodwine’s return and how he greeted Athanar.”

Thornden nodded. The two of them quickly discussed the weapons and decided that they could check and put them in order that morning, and then Thornden hurried out to see if he could find Léof.

Ӕthel was tied in the stable aisle, but she was unsaddled. She looked over at Thornden when he entered and whinnied softly. Thornden walked passed her, stroking her gently as he went by. He went to the tack room and stopped in the doorway. Léof sat in the middle of the floor, staring off into space and looking as though he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.

“What’s the matter, Léof?” he asked.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine saw the pleading in Ginna's eyes, and the blush come to her cheeks just before she turned away.

"Lilla would be her age had she not been killed in the war," he thought. Maybe she was Randver's daughter, but his heart wne out to her as if she were his own. He guessed what she hoped for from him.

The soldiers were emptying from the Hall, breakfast finished. There was Léof hurrying to the stables. "I should greet him."

"Ginna, I can talk with Harreld, if you like, see what this wall is that he thinks is in the way."

Her head rose but she turned only so that he saw her profile.

[Firefoot]

“What’s the matter, Léof?”

Léof looked up, startled. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard Thornden approach. “What? Oh. Nothing. It’s fine,” he said, realizing he was still sitting on the floor and clambering to his feet.

Thornden just looked at him. Well, of course Thornden didn’t believe him, after the way he’d stormed out of the hall. Just thinking about it made Léof start feeling hot all over again. No. He must be the master of himself.

“I… I told the soldiers that I’d thought that Athanar might leave, once Eodwine came back,” Léof admitted. He suddenly felt foolish for having said it – he could have kept on avoiding the question. Or made something up. Anything. “I didn’t want to, but they just kept asking! Quin kept asking what I’d expected, and I didn’t know what to say anymore, so I told them the truth. I wasn’t trying to offend them, but they took it all the wrong way!” Léof took a deep breath. He didn’t want Thornden to think he was just throwing a temper-tantrum because he wasn’t getting what he wanted. But the soldiers had made him so angry. He had to tell someone, just to get it all off his chest. “They don’t listen to me, Thornden,” he said. “They treat me like… like I’m some kind of charity case that Eodwine kept on as a whim. They seem to think I ought to be grateful to Athanar for keeping me – and I am! But I’ve earned my place here, just as much as they have.”

[littlemanpoet]

"I have to convince Eodwine of what is right before I try to convince the king," Saeryn finished.

Rowenna grinned. "No, dear, I do not mean that you should ride off to the king this very day!" She laughed, coaxing a smile from Saeryn. "Let me see what I can learn and say and do. There is time."

"What will you do?" asked Saeryn.

"Oh, I will practice the wiley ways I learned among the brigands, to coax the thoughts from such men as seem to know a thing or two."

"I hope you do not mean to do anything," Saeryn murmured slowly, hesitantly, "that you will ... regret later, I mean ..." Saeryn left her thought unfinished, looking very uncomfortable, fiddling with the folds of her clothing.

"Oh! Have no fear," Rowenna said. "I shall not allow myself to be - um - besmirched, if that is what you mean. All that is in the past.

"Now, tell me, is there anything you have said to anyone, or done anything, that might raise suspicion? Is there anything besides what you said to Eodwine, about which we may have to cover our tracks?"

[Folwren]

Thornden

“They don’t listen to me, Thornden,” Léof said. “They treat me like… like I’m some kind of charity case that Eodwine kept on as a whim. They seem to think I ought to be grateful to Athanar for keeping me – and I am! But I’ve earned my place here, just as much as they have.”

“It sounds like they listened today,” Thornden began slowly, “and they just didn’t like what you said. It is well that you told them the truth, it is merely unfortunate that they did not like it.”

Thornden folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. He drew a deep breath and sighed. He considered a while before continuing, thinking of what he knew about Léof and what he knew about the men who had heard Léof say what he said.

“Scyrr took your comment as a slight towards Athanar,” he said. “I heard what he said to you as he left. Do you think that they were offended by what you said because they think you are yet young to be in this position as stable master? You are angry because they slighted you – not because they didn’t agree with you.

“I can understand their surprise, and in some instances, their disapproval of what you said. He had the letter from the king that made him eorl for good. For him to step down when Eodwine came would be like him or the king saying that Eodwine was the better man, and nothing that Athanar has done makes him worthy of staying.”

--

Saeryn

"Now, tell me,” Rowenna said, “is there anything you have said to anyone, or done anything, that might raise suspicion? Is there anything besides what you said to Eodwine, about which we may have to cover our tracks?"

Saeryn nodded, and then stopped suddenly. Her eyes got a little wide, and then she said, “Yes, I said something to Athanar.” Rowenna lifted her eyebrows.

“What did you say to him?”

“Something I probably should not have,” Saeryn admitted. “I told him that Eodwine should be eorl, not he, and I would do what I could to see that he was replaced.”

Rowenna's eyes went wide. "Oh!" Her hand went to her mouth, then came down again jerkily. "How did he answer you?"

Saeryn shrugged, before replying. "He didn't. I didn't give him a chance. I left him standing in the hall and came in here, shutting the door before he responded."

[Firefoot]

Léof relaxed as he listened to Thornden’s calm and measured reply. Thornden did not think him foolish or childish, and perhaps it had been silly of Léof to think that he would, since Thornden had always listened to him before.

“I would say instead that he has done nothing to make him more worthy than Eodwine,” said Léof. “I do not mind Athanar, but I do not like him either. He pays me little mind and has scarcely spoken to me in the last month, though I suppose he must know who I am.” He thought for a moment. “I’ll grant that the building of the hall has come along much faster than it did before he came, but I think that is more because he brought with him a great many soldiers to help out. When Athanar got here with the king’s letter, we all thought Eodwine was going to die. Now he’s not. I figured that might change things.” Leof shrugged. “I would not mind so much if all of the soldiers were more like you, or Garwine, or Quin. Instead..." He let the sentence trail off, not really sure how to describe how he felt about the soldiers. Some were deliberately rude or mean (how they'd talked about lady Saeryn!), but more of them were just... heedless. Inconsiderate. Arrogant - yes, that was it. "They think they're better than us."

[Folwren]

Thornden studied Léof carefully for several seconds. He heard what Léof said, but he also felt he knew more of what lay at the heart of Léof's frustration and anger. To address the words alone would do little good, but if he could speak directly to what was at the core, then perhaps something would be accomplished.

“Léof,” Thornden said quietly. He looked down at his boots a moment, considering his words carefully. What he was about to say was something his father had told him years ago, but he had never had to repeat it to anyone. He wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but he gave it his best attempt. “A man is not what other men think of him, but what he does and how he thinks and speaks. He may let other men’s opinion of him have an affect on how he acts, but it is not the other’s opinion that really makes him who he is.

“How you respond to the men is what will define you. They may act as though they were better than we who have been here before, but are they? If any one of us answers to their words or actions, whatever they may be, as though we believed we are less than they, then we become so. But if we do not respond – if we stay steady, knowing exactly who we are and what we’re here for – then we cannot be less than them.”

He paused, giving his words time to sink in, before he finished. “If you truly think you ought to be treated like a man, then act the way you think a man should act. Perhaps you are angry at them because you are not yet certain of your manhood yourself.”

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna stood and went over to the door, bent down, and peered through the keyhole for long moments. Finally she stood back up, sighed, and came back to Saeryn.

"Well, at least they haven't stationed a guard outside your door, as far as I can tell! You really must be much more careful what you say, especially to Athanar! But just as much to any of his men, especially those who report to him themselves. We will have to be more careful now. I think it would be best if you do not speak to Athanar at all unless he speaks to you first, and then answer only the question he asks. And don't speak to Wynflaed either, unless she talks to you. Try to keep things light and off the subject of who is eorl. Can you do that? But also, please lay low for a while. And talk to your husband! Patch things up with him. I know you that you will stand your ground on this, and that is good, but try not to say anything that will rankle him or raise suspicion. Can you do that, Saeryn? Please say yes, or else I won't be able to help you."

[Firefoot]

Léof wasn’t sure whether to take Thornden’s words as a lecture, a rebuke, or an encouragement. A lesson, maybe. It was not what Léof had expected; he had hoped that Thornden would simply agree with him and that they might commiserate together. But Thornden didn’t agree with the soldiers, did he? No, that wasn’t it. If Thornden had seemed at all upset or angry with him during the speech, Léof probably would have interrupted him then and there and stalked off. But he was not; quite the opposite.

“…If you truly think you ought to be treated like a man, then act the way you think a man should act. Perhaps you are angry at them because you are not yet certain of your manhood yourself.”

Well, that stung a bit. Léof’s first impulse was to respond with an angry retort, but he held it back. Was Thornden right? Was he letting the soldiers walk all over him? “Then… what was I supposed to do?” Léof asked, a little bit of defensiveness creeping into his tone. “Have I been doing something wrong? And what am I supposed to do now?”

[Folwren]

Saeryn listened to Rowenna until she had finished, but her face did not have a very submissive look on it. Indeed, by the time Rowenna had finished, the expression seemed more defiant than ever.

“I won’t skulk in the corners and act demure and like a lady-in-waiting, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “And as for raising suspicion – I’m going to tell Eodwine exactly what I’m going to do, just like I told Athanar. It’s no secret, what I want. And there’s no reason for it to be. Why do you want it to be so secretive? We’re in the right, Rowenna. Do you doubt that? If you doubt it, then don’t work with me. We don’t need to be afraid.”

[Folwren]

Thornden inwardly felt relieved. At least Léof had not gotten angry and completely shut himself up. A little defiance was good to see, too. It was something to work with, if it could be turned into effort.

“What were you supposed to do?” Thornden repeated, adjusting his shoulder on the door frame. He looked off to one side. “Have you been doing something wrong, and what are you to do now?”

He considered the three questions silently a moment. “I do not think talking about what you might have done differently will be much help. I do not think you actually did anything wrong in giving your opinion, and you did not assault Scyrr, which I believe you considered doing. The only thing you allowed to happen that you should not have was letting their comments get to you, but that will be answered by what you should do now.

“You are defensive about your status, and that causes you to be sensitive about what other men say. No one agrees entirely with everyone, Léof. You cannot take their disagreement as a slight or an insult. Now, clearly sometimes some men will mean it that way – like Scyrr today. But don’t stoop to his level and respond in the same fashion.

“So, I would say what you should do is be less afraid to put your opinion out and be more willing to answer other men’s criticism of it. Tell them why you think it, and don’t let them bully you into not expressing it.”

He shrugged. “Will that give you enough to think about and work on for now?” he asked.

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna frowned. This was worse than she had feared. Not only was Saeryn unwilling to cooperate to protect herself from her own foolish words, it was as if she were going to walk about with a sign around her neck telling all that she was bent on having Athanar's title taken from him and given back to Eodwine.

"Saeryn, in Athanar's mind you have spoken open treason. According to the law of the Eorlings, he is eorl, right or wrong. You are lucky that he seems to have made light of your words. And you are lucky that he has not placed you under guard. For all we know, he has ordered at least one of his men to watch you. Do you not understand how your words would sound in his ears were he to take you seriously?"

Saeryn's expression only grew more defiant. She opened her mouth to speak it, and began to, but Rowenna came over and placed her finger to her own lips, as well as Saeryn's, which thankfully, Saeryn did not push away; but the defiance did not leave her face.

"You will not like what I am about to say, my dear. But I beg you to hear me, or I truly will not be able to help you. We live in a world of men. They make the rules. We live in a world of power. Those who have it do not give it up willingly. Though your cause may be -" Saeryn almost interrupted her, and Rowenna knew why. "Even though your cause is right, that means little to those who hold power. You have real hope though, because the Mark is not like Gondor where the king's word is law. You should know that in the Mark, the king's word is only as good as it is believed that his rule is just and good. His choices may be brought before his Thing, his Council. This is where your hope lies. You must be free to bring your - our cause before that body. But you cannot do that if you are not free to go where you will. I do not counsel you to stay in your room and hide, but to use your wits and say what is best said when it is best to say it.

"There, you have heard me. Do you see what I mean? Can you make it so that I can help you?"

[Folwren]

“I see what you mean,” Saeryn said slowly. “But I do not agree with you. However,” she said, quickly, when Rowenna looked about to try to persuade her further, “I will do my best to say as little as possible. Don’t expect me to lie, though, or to not say what I think about something.”

There was a slight pause. Saeryn stood up and went to the basin of water and washed her eyes. "What should we do now?" she asked as she dried her face on the towel. "Can we go downstairs?"

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna scowled. "Did I ask you to lie?" Her tone was suddenly harsh. "Is that what you think I am getting at? You misunderstand me!"

Her face settled into disappointment and coolness. The lids of her eyes lowered as she regarded Saeryn.

"You can go where you like, as can I, of course," she replied. "You did not say how you disagree. If you intend to speak as you have already to Athanar, I cannot help you. ... unless there is something you have in mind that I may do? I do not promise to do it, but I will listen."

[Firefoot]

“Yes, I should say so,” said Léof. He recalled suddenly Æthel tied outside her stall. “I ought to put my horse away,” he added.

“Good,” said Thornden, and he left.

Léof hung the bridle he was still holding back up, then paused for a moment to study the tack room. It wasn’t completely disorganized, but it was close. There were just so many horses stabled here now that Léof was no longer sure of which set of tack belonged to which rider and which horse belonged to each rider (though the horses themselves he had gotten to know well enough in the last month). The soldiers tended to look after their own horses, which meant that Léof had less work but also less control.

Yet he was responsible for the hoses here, all of the horses, as well as the stable equipment. So far, he had simply dealt with the disarray in silence, picking up after people when brushes were left lying about. Was it any wonder that the soldiers did not take him seriously or respect his authority in the stables? Leaving the tack room as it was for now, he turned and walked slowly back to Æthel. He chewed on his lip thoughtfully.

What he needed to do was lay down some ground rules. Small things, like putting equipment back where it belonged. He wondered if he could get a roster, too. Along with that could go some kind of check list, to make sure all the horses were fed and watered and bedded down regularly. He remembered one time that he and his sister had found a certain kind of chalky rock that they could write with – but he’d also need something to write on. Maybe Stigend or Garstan would have some ideas…

He untied Æthel and led her back to her stall, leaving her there after stroking her neck a couple of times and scratching her behind the ears. He needed to prove to the soldiers that his authority was good. They didn’t listen to him because his authority came from Eodwine. What if he went and talked to Athanar? Told him about the changes he wanted to make? Athanar could make the soldiers listen.

Was this the way that Thornden was trying to get him to think? What had he said again? Something about how others’ opinions didn’t make him who he was… that might be so, but their good opinion of him would make his job much easier. The idea of them having to listen to him rather than the other way around made him smile grimly. Yes, he would go and speak with Athanar. And hopefully Athanar would listen to him.

[Lhunardawen]

Ginna noticed that the soldiers had begun to fill the grounds. That meant breakfast was over. She was needed back in the kitchen.

"Ginna, I can talk with Harreld, if you like, see what this wall is that he thinks is in the way."

She looked up, but could not dare to face Eodwine, despite the kindness in his voice as he made his offer.

"If it would not be too much trouble, I would be grateful." Realising how insincere her words might appear with her face turned away, she ventured a glance at him and smiled briefly. "I- I must return to the kitchen. There is work to be done," she said, with a gesture towards the exiting men.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine could see how ill at east Ginna was, just asking for some help, as if she had not the right. His heart went out to her, as it usually did in such cases, and he wished he could step into the role of father to her and give her a hug that would tell her all would be well. But he hunched that Ginna would feel even less at ease if he did.

She was gesturing to the Hall, and maybe without her knowledge she was leaning and already moving toward it.

"It will not be any trouble. I would be honored, Lady Ginna, Randvér's Daughter, to do whatever I can for your good." He smiled, close-mouthed, and tipped his head forward by way of a bow. She was his equal now that he was not eorl, and it pleased him to treat her with this small honor. Maybe serving wench was her role here, but she was free born, and her service would not last forever.

"My - my thanks," she said, somewhat startled, and made off for the Hall. He did not watch her go, but turned to the smithy.

[Folwren]

To Saeryn, to remain silent when inside she screamed with injustice sounded like lying. She found Rowenna's tone offensive for a moment, and she held her tongue, lest she speak hastily and in anger.

"You did not say how you disagree. If you intend to speak as you have already to Athanar, I cannot help you. ... unless there is something you have in mind that I may do? I do not promise to do it, but I will listen."

"Perhaps you and I have different meanings of help," Saeryn replied. "What you have said concerning saying little to anybody and going to the king sounds like more scheming and working behind Athanar's and Eodwine's back then I choose to do. I asked for you help to me persuade Eodwine of our point of view. I told you, going to the king and asking him to reconsider is impossible unless Eodwine agrees with me. As you say, this is a world of men and their rule, and were I to do such a thing without his permission, I believe I would be subject to punishment of some kind."

Rowenna visibly relaxed. "Well then, at least we agree to first things first."

"Meaning, you agree that I should somehow convince Eodwine to agree with me. Yes, exactly. So just how are we to set about that?"

[Folwren]

"First," said Rowenna, "I think you must make peace with him about what happened between you in the Hall, and then persuade him."

Saeryn nodded. "I'm perfectly willing to make peace, if he's willing to see I'm right. And if he'll apologize about how he spoke of me to the ladies."

Rowenna stared at Saeryn in consternation. "So if he refuses to see that you're right, you'll keep fighting him?" Rowenna threw up her hands. "Saeryn, you're impossible! What if her never agrees? Will you keep fighting no matter what?"

"No, certainly, I won't keep fighting." Saeryn paused and knit her brows. She knew exactly how she would deal with it, acting calm and rather aloof until he saw her point, but she did not know exactly how she would tell Rowenna. "But he will see my point of view, I am sure."

"I had better let you do the talking, then. If there's a mess to clean up, I'll do my part. Lead on!"

Saeryn sent a skeptical look at Rowenna as she left the room ahead of her. "What mess do you think there will be to clean up?"

"That," answered Rowenna, following Saeryn out the door, "depends on what the two of you say to each other and what you're willing to listen to, I would wager." Rowenna closed the door behind her.

Saeryn walked ahead. "I doubt there will be much of a mess for you to clean up, then. We're going to be polite to each other, at least." She went down the stairs and opened the kitchen door. Kara and Frodides were the only ones there. "Besides," Saeyrn said, turning as Rowenna came in behind her. "He's not even here now, so the conversation shall be put off anyway."

[littlemanpoet]

When Eodwine approached the smithy he heard no smithying sounds coming from within. He opened the door and three heads turned to him: Harreld and Garreth, whom he had expected, and Falco Boffin, whom he had not - and whose presence explained, in part, the inactivity of the others.

"Greetings, Harreld and Garreth!" he said. "How are you both? Is Falco keeping you from your work?"

"No," said Garreth grinned broadly.

"Yes," said Harreld with a guilty grin.

"Well I never!" said Falco. "Eodwine, you have nerve! Do you really think the inactivity of these canny smiths must be all my fault?"

"Why of course! They are too hard working to cease for any other reason than to hear every last word you speak!" Eodwine had walked over to where Falco was sitting and clapped him on the back. Falco coughed.

"So what news is there?"

With that, the four regaled each other with all there was to be said and heard by each of them. As usual, Harreld spoke least and Falco most; but Garreth held his own. Good natured jibes flew in the midst of it all; the only thing missing was a pint over which to jab each other with the jibes. After a few minutes of this, they were interrupted for a few minutes by Thornden, about which business we must read elsewhere in due time. When Thornden took his leave, Eodwine coughed in his hand and then rubbed his aching cheek muscles to get the laughter out of them. He eyed each of them seriously.

"I do have somewhat about which to speak to Harreld. Should we go elsewhere?"

"Nay," said Harreld. "Anything you have to say to me can be heard by my brother and Falco here."

"Are you sure, seeing it has to do with a woman?"

"Oh ho!" said Falco, his interest piqued.

"Now then," said Garreth gruffly, his brow furrowing, "if it's about women, all the more need that I should stay and hear, for someone had better be here to speak the hard truth about 'em."

"What hard truths do you mean?" Eodwine asked.

"That they're all the same danger. Grabbers! Twisters! You can't trust 'em any farther than you can throw 'em."

Eodwine winced. "I hope you have not practiced the art of throwing women, Garreth?"

"What? No! I've throwed no women, though there's one I'd like to if I ever saw her again, the blackheart."

"Ah. You have had some experience lately?" asked Eodwine.

"That I have! Can't trust 'em. Why do you think I was so quick to come here? All I needed was an invitation once Edreda ruined my business and standing in Edoras! I could -" he lapsed into mutterings too hard to make out, apparently unwilling to describe aloud what degree of torture he was ready to inflict upon the woman.

"Well, Harreld," said Eodwine, "are you sure you want to talk here?"

"Aye, here is fine, and I would guess 'tis Ginna you would talk about, is that it?"

"No doubt another blackheart," Garreth grated.

"Now now!" cried Falco. "Let's give the thing a fair hearing before deciding the heart of anyone!"

"Good words, Falco," said Eodwine. "As a matter of fact, it is Ginna I came to talk about."

[Folwren]

When Leof had left Thornden to take action on his words, Thornden decided that it was high time he found Eodwine and greeted him home again. He went first to the kitchen, and found that Eodwine had just left with Ginna not five minutes ago. On his way out, he ran into Ginna, who told him that Eodwine had probably gone to the smithy to speak with Harreld. That caused Thornden to pause a minute, wondering if Eodwine had just spoken with Ginna and was going to go speak with Harreld now, perhaps he had better not interrupt, as he guessed what topic would be spoken of. It was no secret (and especially no secret to him) that Ginna's and Harreld's relationship had never been the same since that letter arrived from her father. Although he had never found out anything more about it since Saeryn told him not to pursue it, he had noticed a distinct separation of the two and he did not like it. He hoped that Eodwine would be able to solve this problem.

He decided that he would risk interrupting him, as he did not need to speak to Eodwine long in order to greet him, and as Eodwine could be hours speaking with Harreld, Thornden did not feel he had hours to wait. So he went at once to the smithy and knocked on the doorpost.

He was hailed to come in and did so, finding both smiths and Eodwine - and Falco - talking a lot and smithying not at all.

"Thornden! I have not had a chance to greet you yet!" cried Eodwine. "Well met indeed!" He came over and offered his hand.

"Welcome back, sir," Thornden said, grinning and grasping his arm firmly. "I am glad to see you back again, when none of us really thought you'd ever. . ." he paused a moment, still smiling. "You look better than you did when you came in. Are you happy with things as they are?"

Eodwine laughed. "That's subtly put, Thornden. Maybe it's too early to tell. That may be the best answer I can give, for now. However, there may be a thing or two that could use some looking into, but that's neither here nor there. How have you been faring?"

"Not badly at all, my lord." He did not even realize he had said it, and went on. "For myself, not much was changed. I am in much the same position as I was when you left. Honestly, it has been hardest watching out for Saeryn."

"That I can believe!" Eodwine allowed himself to think but not say, 'the little trouble maker'. He would have to deal with that soon enough. "But I am telling you, as often as my friends are calling me 'my lord' by mistake, I'm going to have to come up with something suitably demeaning to be lord of!"

"You can be lord of dung!" Falco said helpfully.

"Or lord of broken ladels!" offered Garreth.

"How about lord of kitchen messes?" Harreld laughed, not realizing how close he'd come to accurately describing how things had gone between himself and Saeryn.

"Lord of the three oafs, I should say!" Eodwine gave back lightly. "But seriously, Thornden, is there something I should know in regard to my wife?"

Thornden, who had stood by looking quite bewildered during the flury of jesting, immediately came back to seriousness. "I don't know if there is anything in particular, I just know that she took Athanar's coming very hard. I was concerned for her reaction and emotions as well as the men's respect of her, for, being the woman of the house without her husband who used to be lord, she was made the brunt of many demeaning words. She had your child to think of, and I believe some sort of arrangement was come to in regard to that."

Eodwine grew serious. "I wish I had known of this sooner. It may explain some things. This has been harder on her than I had allowed myself to think. But you said arrangement regarding the child. Of this I have not heard. What does it mean?"

"Athanar took Saeryn under his guardianship, as a daughter, and he intends to give the title to her child, if he is male. That, at least, is how I understood the agreement."

"Oh. I see." Eodwine frowned. "I must give that some thought."

"Well, lor - I mean my friend - we can talk at length later. I will not keep you from the three oafs you lord over any longer." Thornden grinned and waved before leaving them.

[littlemanpoet]

Harreld sighed. "Say away."

"She and I have spoken," Eodwine said. "She tells me that a letter from her father has made you change your mind, that you cannot wed."

"That is the way of it."

"How is it that Ginna sees it differently than you?"

"She seeks her will around Eorling ways. I cannot do that. Her father has spoken his will. He is her lord. I cannot gainsay him, and he refuses me her hand." As if that were the end of it, Harreld turned away and picked up a pair of tongs.

"What if her father is wrong?"

Harreld looked at him. "What matter that? It is still his word, and he is her lord. There is no more to be said and you know it."

"Any woman who refuses her father's will is not be trusted," Garreth threw in.

"Garreth," said Eodwine firmly, "you do not know Ginna."

[littlemanpoet]

"Harreld," said Eodwine, continuing, "I have a question."

"Ask it."

"When Théoden was king and Saruman and Sauron threatened war from both sides, and Wormtongue spoke evil counsel to the king, Eomer was banished from Edoras and told not to allow any foreigners into Rohan, not to disobey his lord. What did he do?"

Harreld grew uncomfortable. The answer was obvious enough to every man and hobbit in the smithy, and all knew it. He studied the tongs a bit, then turned to Eodwine angrily.

"But that was war! All our lives were in gravest danger! Eomer did what had to be done."

"It did not look that way at the time to many. Some saw him as traitor because he did not follow Eorling ways. Instead, he followed his heart, what he thought was the better choice. We all know too well that if not for Eomer's choices, Saruman would have captured the two holbytlan, the whereabouts of the Ringbearer would probably have become known to the dark lord, and we would now be living under evil slavery and you would not even be considering whether to wed Ginna. Is it not so?"

"Aye, 'tis so. But-"

"Ack! Another but!" cried Falco good naturedly.

Harreld grinned. "I cannot help it. Should the Eorl ... of oafs persuade me then all questions must be asked, or I will have doubts all my days." He faced Eodwine. "You are telling me that there are times when a lord should be disobeyed because he is wrong. Is that not your wisdom to me?"

"Aye."

"Tell me this, then. How am I so strongly to know that Randvér is wrong so that I may wed Ginna?"

"Do you love each other?"

"Ack! Love! It is all nonsense!" cried Garreth. "There is no such thing. Women do not love their men, they only seek to leash them and use them for themselves. And men do not love women either. They have no other way to carry on their names."

"Garreth," said Harreld, "you do not know yourself or you would not say such foolery."

"Ach! You are hopeless, Harreld!"

"Hopeless Harreld," echoed Falco with a laugh. "It has a ring to it."

"Yes, Eodwine, we do love each other. Of that I am sure. But what of it? 'Tis not enough to build a marriage on."

"Though it is a good start," Eodwine answered, "you are right. So answer this further question. If nothing stood in your way, is there any woman you would rather bind yourself to than Ginna?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Harreld's voice became gruff. "Without her I am half dead, half a man. She makes me more than I am." His eyes shone.

"And I say to you this," Eodwine smiled gravely. "Randvér will discover, some day, that he has gained in you a son beyond compare. Marry her. Be whole."

"Hear hear!" said Falco, raising his pipe as if it were a pint of mead.

"If you need a woman to be a whole man," growled Garreth, "then you were less than half a man to begin with."

"You are daft and a fool, Garreth," Harreld said. "Eodwine, I will think on your words, and I will think about what you have helped me see is in my heart and in my thought. And I will think on what it means to follow and step away from the Eorling way. When I have done thinking on these things, I will make a choice. I hope it will be my final choice."

"Let it be so," Eodwine said. "I trust it will be a good choice. And now, Garreth, let's hear more about this evil woman who ruined your livelihood and your life!"

[Gwathagor]

The sun was already high when Crabannan blinked and opened his eyes for what felt like the first time in years.

He'd slept in.

[Gwathagor]

Crabannan pushed back the flaps of his tent and glanced around. He seemed to be alone. Satisfied, he crawled out, boots in hand. He'd grown reclusive over the past few months, pitching his tent in the woods outside of camp, appearing only for meals, to which he would contribute a string of rabbits or the occasional stag. Things had been unsteady in Scarburg since Eodwine had gone east and the new eorl had moved in, rocking the metaphoric boat with his great clunking steps and his heavy-handed ways. Crabannan's solution was to get out of the boat. So he kept to himself. Stayed out of trouble. Stayed away from the eorl's sons.

Wulfric and Wilheard will still be at board, he thought as he pulled on his boots. He looked up at the sun. They'd be there until about noonday, so he'd have to wait until then to break his own fast. He ambled over and dunked his head in the stream. Then he stood, shook the water from his shaggy hair, and ambled towards the Burg.

Despite being (or perhaps because they were) lazy, belligerent louts who had taken a marked, fervent dislike to Crabannan, Wulfric and Wilheard were also highly predictable and he had learned to order his days around where they would be and when. It would come to blows eventually, he knew, but for the present he was content to not be thrown from Scarburg for bashing the eorl's sons cross-eyed.

Not yet.

And I have other reasons for keeping to myself, he reflected. He passed through the rows of tents that housed many of the workers and soldiers and headed for the kitchen. He took his time.

[Firefoot]

As the discussion over the breakfast table broke up at Coenred's bidding, Scyld also excused himself from the table. He paid little attention to the interplay between Scyrr and Léof – Scyld already knew Scyrr to be a troublemaker and Léof to be over-sensitive. An amusing combination, really, but Scyld was more interested now in the reactions of those he knew less well.

Much of the hall was nearing completion, but still some projects remained. Scyld knew that several of the soldiers would be outside working on the shelter for the sheep pen, so he too headed in that direction. What might the soldiers be saying out of earshot of the original Scarburgians and the authorities? Of course, Scyld himself came originally from Eodwine's household, but he had shown himself sympathetic to the new soldiers. Scyld had learned early on that it was best not to take sides before it was clear which side would win out.

The air outside was brisk and cold; though the sun was shining, it gave off little heat so late in the year. Once he began working, though, Scyld knew he would warm up. He wasn't sure what he would do once the hall was finished. Sorn seemed scarcely remembered here, not even a year after Eodwine's household had moved in. He scarcely knew what he was doing now. Prying, information gathering – but for what? The stakes were hardly so high now as they once had been. He shrugged off that dismal train of thought as he approached the half-finished sheep pen. One could never know too little.

Several soldiers were just beginning work as he arrived: Hilderinc, Aforglaed, Quin, and Hylath. “Good morning,” he said as he walked up, though he had already seen a couple of them at breakfast. The soldiers greeted him in return, and Scyld fell into work beside them. After a few minutes, he found himself standing next to young Quin. Judging from breakfast, Scyld thought he might be the easiest to get talking. “Bit of a shocker what Léof said about Athanar leaving, wasn't it?” he asked.

[littlemanpoet]

After a long conversation regarding women as the ruination of men's lives, Eodwine and Falco left the Smith brothers to their work. At first the cold was refreshing after the extended heat of the smithy. It did not take long for the wind to find gaps in their clothing, tickling their skin with its frosty fingers. By the time they got back to the Hall, they were trotting and patting their crossed arms. Into the Hall they came.

The men at arms had emptied from the Hall and the women had just about finished the cleaning. They saw Saeryn and Rowenna near the kitchen. Eodwine's stomach turned, recalling what had almost happened between himself and his new wife, and worse, what had indeed happened. The noise of their entrance had alerted the women to the presence of the Man and Hobbit, and Saeryn was looking at her husband. Eodwine could not read her expression from the other end of the Hall, but he did not see a smile.

He crossed the distance wordlessly, the Hobbit close behind.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

“Bit of a shocker what Léof said about Athanar leaving, wasn't it?”

Hilderinc looked up from his work at Nydfara. He wasn't at the breakfast anymore when the incident happened, so he had no idea what the man was talking about.

"Athanar leaving? What about Athanar leaving?" he asked, puzzled. Did Eodwine's coming actually change something? Was Athanar supposed to leave?

"No, it was that stableboy, you know, Hilderinc," Áforglaed chimed in eagerly using a tone as if he was narrating a very funny story. "He made Scyrr lose his temper once again, and no surprise about that-"

"Not indeed," muttered Hilderinc quietly and stabbed his axe into the piece of wood he had been cutting.

"-I think he really should watch his mouth. I tell you, I'm just going to see Scyrr beating him up one day if he doesn't watch his mouth! Seriously, I don't know what he was thinking, assuming their lord will take his place again once he's back-"

"There is no their lord," Hilderinc interrupted him with a note of annoyance in his voice. Here we go again, he thought. Exactly as one might have expected. People always behave the same. "You should have acknowledged that a month ago, Áforglaed. There is no 'them' anymore, and there is only one lord here as far as I am aware, and that is Athanar. So as you see," he raised the axe again, "there is neither 'their', nor 'lord'. I think most of us already know that. Look, even-" he couldn't remember the man's name for a second, so he used the moment to swing the axe, "-even Nydfara here is working alongside us, even though he remembers Eodwine, right? So you should cut it off."

Áforglaed looked a bit offended, but only muttered something under his breath and turned towards Nydfara.

"Well, I wonder what is this Eodwine going to do here anyway, since he's no eorl anymore," he added.

[Folwren]

Saeryn stopped Rowenna with a hand upon her arm, freezing like a deer caught unawares. Rowenna stopped and turned to look.

“There he is,” Saeryn whispered. Her heartbeat quickened a moment. “Now that it comes to it, I don’t know if I’m ready to talk to him.”

Eodwine and Falco began walking towards them. Saeryn turned away, and gripped Rowenna’s hand. “What should I do?”

“Stay calm and remember what we just talked about. You are in the right and must convince him that is so,” Rowenna coached her calmly.

Saeryn nodded. She drew a deep breath and then she lifted her chin and turned to face Eodwine as he came close to them.

“Hello, Eodwine. I guess you’ve been seeing everyone. A lot has changed here, has it not?”

[Gwathagor]

Crabannan sidled up to the wood-cutters, hands jammed in his belt, whistling an northern air.

"Morning," he said to no one in particular. They were talking and he did not really care if they paid attention to him or not. It was Hilderinc, Aforglaed, some other soldiers -- and that odd quiet one, Nydfara.

Odd and quiet! I'm one to talk, thought Crabannan. He looked around for an axe and, seeing none to spare, began to gather up the wooden rails the men were cutting.

"Well, I wonder what is this Eodwine going to do here anyway, since he's no eorl anymore," Aforglaed was saying.

Crabannan paused. This struck him as wrong.

"A good man like Eodwine stripped of authority for falling ill? Not likely."

He began to march away with his shoulderload of wood, heading for the site of the new sheep-shed.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Áforglaed turned his head after Crabannan. "Now what -" he started as the man trotted out of sight. "What was that? Did you hear him? Did he and the stableboy gang up with each other? What's wrong with people today?"

"I was just about to ask the same," mumbled Hilderinc half to himself, looking after Crabannan quizzically.

"These guys just seem to have some delusions of whatever-" Áforglaed continued, but Hilderinc interrupted him by poking him with a piece of cut wood.

"Here," he said. "Do something instead of just talking and help Crabannan carrying these away. And you can tell him to fetch an axe for himself, in fact, you can go with him and bring more tools. We are going to need some more anyway, maybe if you can find a saw or two..."

"He's mad," Áforglaed said, standing still.

"Maybe he just does not understand the way things really are," Hilderinc tried to keep his voice calm, even though in reality, the whole situation started to annoy him. I should have known better, an old voice started to sound in his head. Men are not capable of learning. Show them the illusion of a forgotten lord, who is unable to rule, yet they will start expecting miracles from him, whereas the reality is completely different. The worst thing about it is that Áforglaed is right, these old Scarburgians seem to be mad, but they will find out their mistake, sooner or later. You cannot ride against the wind for too long. But we cannot let the division start again. And that's why I cannot agree with Áforglaed openly and support any classification of "us" and "them".

He saw Crabannan returning for more wood to carry.

"I had to bring Eodwine here when he came," he said aloud, making sure also Crabannan hears it. "He is not really fit to do anything. I had to keep him in the saddle. Anyway, he has pleaded his loyalty to lord Athanar now. There is no talk of stripping of authority, it was Eodwine himself who chose it."

Hilderinc once again took up his axe.

"And that," he said, "is what really matters, right?"

[littlemanpoet]

“Hello, Eodwine. I guess you’ve been seeing everyone. A lot has changed here, has it not?”

Saeryn was looking at him as if at a stranger. Her shoulders were high, here face was tight, her eyes were intense, as if she were spoiling for a fight. Eodwine's tongue moved in his mouth as if it had a mind of its own, trying to find some way of escape from what he might say. He could not seem to relax his own demeanor. His mouth was tight, his own shoulders high. This was not good.

"Much," he said simply. "Come, please, to our rooms, just you and me."

He stopped a pace from her, raised his arm in a gesture indicating that she should lead the way. Their eyes were locked, mouths closed and lips narrowed. Eodwine was sure that every single cook, serving wench, hobbit, and woman recently from the Folde, could see that a fight was brewing. He hoped against hope that it could be set aside and the two of them could speak to each other calmly.

And she had better not insist that we talk right here, he thought.

[Firefoot]

“Just so,” said Scyld. It would be beneficial, Scyld had decided, to seem agreeable to Hilderinc. Although Hilderinc held no formal position among Athanar's soldiers (not that Scyld was aware of, anyway), he seemed to carry with him a kind of unofficial authority nonetheless. He gave orders, and others listened, as the interaction between him and Aforglaed showed. And whether because of particular loyalty to Athanar or just a natural tendency to abide by rules or ideals, Hilderinc seemed committed to the unification of Scarburg, which was what everyone who actually had any authority also wanted.

That being said, Scyld doubted that Hilderinc would hold much with fugitives, so he had best be wary. Not that he wasn't anyway, but it was never bad to remind himself.

“I can't say what Eodwine plans to do with himself now,” continued Scyld affably, picking up from Hilderinc's earlier question, “but he was always just as willing as the next man to put in a hard day's work.” He paused for another chop of the axe. “Though, as you say, he doesn't seem fit for any sort of labor right now, much less hard labor. My guess is that he'll stay long enough to recover, and for Saeryn to have her baby, and then who knows?” He swung the axe again. “Still. That's a whole winter of everyone being all penned up together. Hopefully folk get their differences sorted out quick, or it'll be a long couple of months, with more than just Scyrr and the stablelad spoiling for a fight.”

[Folwren]

Saeryn should have known Eodwine’s thoughts as well as he guessed hers, but she was not bent on understanding him now and she did not care to guess that he pre-empted her forth-coming request.

Saeryn did not desire to go alone to their rooms. She thought that she would stand more chance if Rowenna were with her, knowing that in her she had an ally. Alone, Eodwine would be less likely to listen. She thought she understood men. They were stronger and more overbearing than a woman, even in arguments of words and not of physical strength. They did not like listening to women telling them they ought to do, and as Saeryn was Eodwine’s wife, of course he would expect her to submit. But perhaps with Rowenna there, he would see that Saeryn was perhaps right.

“Might we not stay here, where Rowenna at least can be with us?”

[Folwren]

Quin hadn’t said anything during the conversation about Eodwine. He worked silently, trying to make heads and tails of the situation. Finally, he spoke, when Nydfara again suggested that Léof's words almost started a fight.

“I don’t think you’re being fair to the others,” he said to both Áforglaed and Nydfara. “You haven’t tried to look at it from their point of view. Léof wasn’t showing any disrespect when he said what he did this morning. I know some of you think so, but I don’t. I was surprised, but not because I thought he was being disrespectful.”

“That’s just ‘cause you’ve taken a liking to him,” Áforglaed said with something of a jeer.

“So?” Quin replied. “That doesn’t change anything. He’s never caused anybody any trouble, why do you think he’d start now?”

“I didn’t expect it. That’s just it. But he shouldn’t have said what he did.”

“Why not?” Quin replied sharply. He looked at Hilderinc for confirmation as he said, “What would you think if Athanar was replaced in the same manner than Eodwine was? You wouldn’t like it any more than these people have, and no one would call you mad if you pointed out the unjustness of it.”

[littlemanpoet]

“Might we not stay here, where Rowenna at least can be with us?”

What was this? Was his own wife afraid of him? Was this because he had almost struck her? Did she think he was likely to strike her if they were alone? He felt shamed. He was sorry it had happened, and was surprised that it had. Why did I almost strike my wife?

He sighed heavily. If they stayed here, he would not say some things he would otherwise. Why did Saeryn want Rowenna near? As an eye witness? An ally?

Saeryn was waiting for an answer. He sighed again.

"Then Falco shall remain with us as well, if he is willing."

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Hilderinc caught himself nodding slightly in approval as Nydfara spoke. Seems like a sensible man, he thought. At least he seems to understand that people need to work together if only because they have to share the same roof. He noted to himself that this man - whom he originally had not been paying much attention to during the previous month, as he didn't seem to stand out in any special way - might be a good person to have around and one who would hopefully act as a good example of cooperation or a voice of reason among the old Scarburgians. Potentially, an ally if some trouble appeared.

Then Quin started to speak in defence of "the stablemaster", as Hilderinc had not ceased to call him. Hilderinc wasn't surprised, he had known about the friendship among the two for a long time. Quite understandably, them being of basically the same age and, seemingly, both a bit on the edge of the group of "adult men" otherwise present at Scarburg and in original Athanar's company.

"What would you think if Athanar was replaced in the same manner than Eodwine was? You wouldn’t like it any more than these people have, and no one would call you mad if you pointed out the unjustness of it."

Hilderinc noticed Quin looking at him, probably in expectation of approval. He wasn't too sure about fully agreeing with the boy, after all, Hilderinc wasn't there when Léof had said whatever he had said, so he couldn't judge how offensive his words might or might not have been. But it was necessary to stress the important points for Áforglaed.

"Quin is right, Áforglaed," he said aloud. "I wouldn't say there's anything unjust about Athanar replacing Eodwine, but even if it wasn't entirely reasonable, our stablemaster in his youth had a good reason to be upset. That's just a reminder for those more mature of us to act more sensibly, isn't it?" he finished calmly, looking at Áforglaed. "And I think in time, Léof will realise it as well. Eodwine's condition did not allow him to be the eorl anymore and that's where Athanar came in. If Athanar now became ill it would be the same. This Hall needs an eorl - one eorl at a time. The King has decided that it will be Athanar. What is unjust about that?"

[Firefoot]

Scyld shrugged. “Neither just nor injust, I would say. If justice were the only force in this world, Eodwine would not have fallen sick in the first place and the king would not have to choose between two able leaders. But alas, fate is a fickle mistress.” But inside, he was thinking, Let their fathers sell them away and let them serve under a man such as Sorn, and then perhaps they will understand injustice. It reminded him of Linduial; she too had used words like “just” and “right.” And in her world, in this world, perhaps there was room for ideals... but it only showed how little these soldiers understood of the world, if they thought Athanar's rule was an injustice.

Quin seemed about to speak up again, but Scyld kept talking. “But I forgot,” he said to Quin, “that you left the hall before Scyrr and Léof nearly came to blows. I would not call either of them 'mad,' as you say, for what they think, but he certainly did look as though he were spoiling for a fight. Or at least, easily provoked to one. It is well that he remembered that Scyrr is probably twice his weight and a trained fighter – though, before you speak in Leof's defense, Scyrr would do well to remember that it is not his place to bully others around. And it is not my place to reprimand either of them.”

[Firefoot]

As Léof strode determinedly into the hall, set on finding Athanar, he was stopped short by a sight that momentarily drove all thoughts of his task from his mind. Were Saeryn and Eodwine fighting? It certainly looked that way. Even from several yards off, he could see that both of them were drawn up tight as drums, like captains of battling armies staring each other down across the field, Rowenna and Falco arrayed behind them like their respective cavalries.

How could this be? After Saeryn had so recently and so recklessly rode out after her returning husband, this was the last thing Léof had expected. And not only were they fighting, they seemed to be bringing their friends into it as well. Léof was no expert on marriage, not even close, but even to him that boded ill. It seemed to him that a man and wife ought to settle their differences privately, yet here they were, practically in the middle of the hall, with all kinds of folk staring on. He was so surprised that it did not even occur to him that he was now one of those folk.