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Falco
Fair enough, Falco thought to himself. The little conniver had more cheek than a hobbit in his tweens. Soon they were off trotting into the heart of Edoras, approaching Meduseld. It was not long before a general disturbance had been wrought on the grounds of the King's hall, and a small cadré of Eorlingas had been rounded up and were galloping down the main road of Edoras, past the Eorling Mead Hall, and out toward the the ruins. Nevertheless, they arrived there a half hour after Thornden's crew.
Falco had decided not to join the cadré, but to trot back east at a leisurely pace. Javan's horse trotted past the Eorling Mead Hall, and Javan questioned Falco as to why they were not stopping.
"We may be needed," Falco said simply.
Eodwine
Eodwine hunkered down in a nettle. He had considered holing up in that circular chamber, but having no bow and arrows, he had decided that his enemies would climb over the top in too great numbers and soon overwhelm him. He had thought of climbing a tree, but he would be no safer than a roosted bird and arrows could reach him, or worse, fire. So he had left the paths and half-paths and forged into the close brush and nettles, and had instructed Ritun and Lefun to do the same. He saw no sign of the twins now. He hoped that Falco had gotten away safely. Eodwine lay low and tried to calm his breathing. Are you being a coward? The stray thought didn't surprise him, but it most certainly did not help at the moment. No! he insisted to himself. This place is overrun with outlaws! There must be at least a dozen! He could hear the heavy thud of feet running hither and yon. It was best to lay low, if he could manage it, until help came; if it came. He hoped Ritun and Lefun were safe.
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