[Nogrod]

After the games and all the jubilation it was time for work. The Mead Hall was nothing near being a real Mead Hall and even if there still was a long way ahead of them until winter would come, lord Eodwine knew they had to hurry.

They worked full hours through the hot days of the late summer sweating and trying to repel the gadflies and other hornets there seemed to be more they had bargained for. And they toiled through the reddening of the leaves of autumn, in rain and in cold rays of the autumn sun, falling asleep tired and cold but satisfied for the work they had done.

And piece by piece, stone after stone and baulk after baulk, the Mead Hall started to emerge into the place where only ruins had been when they first came to Scarburg almost half a year ago. It was far from being ready, but it started to look like something, day by day.

There were no stables, there were no quarters for the people, there was no fixed granary or any other storehouse for food. But there was a makeshift smithy, a temporary shed for the animals, and a rude windmill to give them power, built when the autumn winds really started to blow through the marshlands. It was a colder place they had anticipated.

The people had lived in the tents as long as the weather had allowed and after that they had all moved into the Mead Hall itself gathering around the newly built fireplace to get themselves warm – even if most of the Mead Hall was still under construction. Every morning the females and the children cleared the space for the men, residents and guests, to continue their work and only then went for their duties of collecting wood, gathering berries and mushrooms, carrying water – and the boys occasionally helped the craftsmen and soldiers carrying out the actual building-work.

A real kitchen with a stone-oven and a decent fireside-cooking area had been built for Kara and Frodides as one of the first things. From there the hearty meals went forwards to the hungry people day after day accompanied by the ever-smiling faces of the two cooks – helped by Ginna and Modtryth.

But lord Eodwine followed the draining of their supplies with weary eyes. King Eomer had sent them building supplies on late summer; several ox-carts of wood and stone. Stigend and Garstan had finally talked him over to see there were not enough of the resources around if they wished to build a real Mead Hall, a Mead Hall of a kind Eodwine wished for. But because he had to ask for the king for building supplies he didn’t dare to ask for any more food – and the stacks of grain and vegetables were growing thin indeed.

He would have to solve it by himself. And he knew what he had to do.

~’~

The Middle Emnet was the southeast quarter of West Emnet, bordered by the Snowbourn to the south and the Entwash to the east. King Eomer had made an administrative move to improve the governance of Rohan by instituting a Mead Hall on the lands immediately surrounding Edoras, and made Eodwine the Eorl of Mid Emnet. Now that meant he had to bring the landlords that ruled the area under the king’s governance. He had postponed the inevitable meeting with the local landlords the whole summer wishing to meet them in a shiny new Mead Hall worthy of the king’s eorl but it seemed he had no more time to waste.

And it would not be an easy negotiation…

The local landlords had used to rule over the Mid Emnet themselves; they collected taxes in change for protection from the peasants and they dictated the law to them. They would not be too happy to hear that the king would take those privileges from them even if they were war-heroes, or their offspring, and were loyal to the crown of Edoras.

Lord Eodwine would have to call them to the Mead Hall before it was as he wanted it to be. He had to call them for they would have to send him food supplies for the winter no matter how ready or unready the Mead Hall was. And he would have to tell them they would not only need to start sending him food-supplies on regular basis, but that they would also need to start paying taxes to the king via the Mead Hall, and would lose their right to judge on any affairs of dispute. He and the Mead Hall would be the new centers of gravity in Mid Emnet. It would be hard for them to chew but they sure had had time to think of any counter moves as it was no secret lord Eodwine and his following had moved in to Scarburg almost half a year ago.

It was indeed the most worrying sign to lord Eodwine that none of them had approached him willingly after they had moved in. The silence felt awkward.

On September the 27th he wrote a letter to be sent to the three most remarkable landlords around.

He knew Tancred son of Ewald well. He had been a captain in the same force lord Eodwine had served himself in the Pelennor Fields and even before it. He was a great soldier, a shrewd tactician and a trustee of the late king Theoden. But that trust was earned during the days of Theoden’s misery. Lord Eodwine didn’t like him. He actually feared him but stood calm. He would have to meet that man and wrestle the king’s authority over him however he would react to this kind of approach. And he was about ten years older than lord Eodwine. Forcing Tancred to subdue to him would be a challenge.

He knew Alboin son of Oswine as well. He was not of a stature Tancred was, but he was an intelligent and a stern lord. Lord Eodwine didn’t actually love Alboin either as he thought he was a coward but he knew some praised his courage. Maybe it was more a matter of personal relations?

He didn’t know Faramund son of Friduhelm that well but he had known his father well enough. They had fought side by side in the Pelennor fields and he both admired and loved the old man. And he still lived. But he had given the rule over his estates to his son Faramund Eodwine knew almost nothing about; but that he was very young, twenty something… If Friduhelm would come he would have an ally in the meeting, Eodwine thought writing the letters. And if not, he could always appeal to Faramund to prove worth of his father…

On October the 10th it would be seen…

~’~

On the first days of October lord Eodwine had started to cough and sneeze a lot. Saeryn was worried and demanded that her husband would rest just for a day or two to get himself well. But lord Eodwine would have none of it. They had to finish as much as they could before the landlords would arrive and he would have to show example to all others. It was just a flu and if the orc-spears were not able to fell him, neither would a little flu do it. And ignoring Saeryn’s protests he went to the work as the first one in the morning and left as the last one in the evening braving zero temperatures at mornings and late evenings.

And they had advanced a lot. Garstan and Náin had finished the inner stonewalls and the fireplace with great precision while Stigend had built a beautiful plank floor and elegant tables and benches, and a great seat for the eorl – most of them adorned with Erbrand’s skillful leather-work. It was looking good even if here or there one could see it was not finished at all.

On October 9th lord Eodwine got a fever. He wished to join the workforce but now lady Saeryn was accompanied by Thornden and they finally talked him to stay in bed. Aedhel was called in and she did what she could making potions from herbs she had available trying to ease the fever.

But it was of no avail. The fever rose the whole day and in the evening lord Eodwine was sweating and had a terrible fit of convulsions. A cramp attack followed another and shortly he lost consciousness.

Aedhel shook her head beside his bed. “There’s nothing I can do to him here…” she said slowly. “We need to get him to Edoras”.

The people bent over his bed looked at each other in pain.

Lord Eodwine opened his eyes suddenly, panting heavily… “You need to… you… tomorrow… I’ll be fine… … … Saeryn! … My love! … take care of the child…”

His eyes rolled over and everyone screamed.

“Do something! For Valar’s sake do something!” Saeryn cried almost hysterically shaking all over.

Modtryth tried to console her but her eyes were filled with tears and her hands were shaking as she tried to hold Saeryn in her arms. Thornden wished to have the situation in his control but found himself lacking the words or action for it and just stood there looking at his lord fading away.

Crabannan had the stamina to bend over Eodwine and try the pulse.

“It’s still beating! He’s not dead! … He’s not dead!!!” He yelled.




It was past midnight and the landlords would come in the early afternoon.