Eorcyn's face turned whiter than the simbelmynë flowers which bloomed over the barrows of Rohan's kings. Here he was found at a common Inn by the very woman to whom he had promised his uttermost endeavours to find Hearpwine. Nay, not just any woman. The daughter of his dead Lord, the King Théoden. The wife of the Prince of Ithilien. She who had slain the Witch King. If he had bowed any lower, he would have disappeared under the table.
'My Lady," he stammered. "I have been seeking Hearpwine, as you commanded."
"You sent him here on an errand?' she queried him, her head turning towards him, slightly upraised. "And now you seek him?. Or have you returned here yourself under some pretext?" Here she looked down at the table, at his tankard of ale and then stared impassively at him.
"I bid him come... " began Eorcyn, but his words were hushed by the Horse's owner.
Bethberry rose and with a gracious movement that somehow combined both bow and curtsy, she lowered her head calmly and serenely and then spoke.
"White Lady of Rohan, Princess of Ithilien, Unflinching Shieldmaiden who stood in battle as noble as any manly warrior, your presence honours The White Horse and awes us. Great indeed must be your admiration of the minstrel Hearpwine if you come here in search of him." In Bethberry's clear eyes there was deep respect for the woman who stood proudly before her.
"Hearpwine came hither to seek friends, to keep a pledge, although he was greatly tired. He had promised a young lad here a ride out beyond the pallisades and a lesson in song. They are now, Hearpwine and Gomen, riding no doubt beside the Snowborne, but Gomen's father has in haste taken our finest horse to recall them. How may we attend you, if you can here await Hearpwine's return?"
At the conclusion of her words, Bethberry stood back and erect, her head slightly bent, and awaited the request of the Lady whom none had ever expected to follow after Hearpwine.
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