[Nurumaiel]

Liornung had kept a watchful eye on Ædegard since he had returned. True, he mused in response to the thoughts that pulled at his mind. They had not been on good terms at the first, but they had grown in friendship since their first meeting. True again, Ædegard had been their leader, if anyone had been a leader, from the start. Yet despite Ædegard's leadership, the fiddler was older (by a few years), and likely more experienced. He had met those younger than himself by only a few years before, and each time he had assumed the role of an elderly wiseman with good counsel. He had helped many a lad in trouble: shy lads in love to bold lads in debt. He had developed a keen interest in the welfare of all human beings, and a very paternal sense towards any and every young man (or woman, for that matter). When Ædegard had returned with his hand gone and the blood flowing, Liornung had instantly set an attentive eye to him. For one thing, Ædegard was wounded and probably in (at the very least) a little bit of pain. For another thing, it wasn't impossible that he might be wondering what Leafa would think.

Liornung recalled the time he had met a young man who was strong, handsome, fairly well-to-do, and in brief everything a young lassie would want in a man. As a matter of fact, a girl already wanted him, and he wanted her. She was pretty, and had classic Rohirric features with a touch of her own individual charm. They had known each other for years, and the girl wanted nothing more than for the man to hurry up and ask her to marry him. Liornung entered the village the day before the young man intended to propose marriage to her. That day they became fairly good friends, and the man chose Liornung to confide in (though, of course, not in the same way the lassies confide, if one has a sense of the difference). And on that same day the young man had taken a tumble from his horse and broken his foot.

Broken his foot! What a simple, absurd little thing to worry about. And just barely broken, too. The lad would be better in no time at all. He was simply unable to walk for a time. But it set him into fits of agitation. What would his lass think? Marry a man with a broken foot? What did it matter if the foot would heal sooner or later? Maybe it would be crooked for all time. So much for proposing to her the next day! Could he (Liornung) imagine him (the young man) asking the girl to marry him when he was lying in bed with his foot padded and propped up? Well, Liornung could imagine it, and it was absurdly amusing, but he had the good sense not to laugh, and he sat and consoled the fellow. As it happened the girl didn't care very much, though she did laugh, and they were happily betrothed, and married not too long after.

But, there! If a man was worrying that a girl wouldn't marry him over a broken foot, what might Ædegard be thinking, with his hand gone? Sweet, gentle Leafa, made for nothing but love. Liornung knew she wouldn't care in the least. But Ædegard might worry. And Ædegard was worried enough already with her gone, and worried with the pain of his wound. So Liornung left the healing matters to Ravion and Erundil, but he watched Ædegard carefully, and kept his fiddle close at hand, in case his friend might want a song to distract his mind from weary things.

A cry was raised from someone in their group, and heads turned to a sight that made Liornung spring to his feet, and made his heart beat madly. Leafa, that gentle Leafa, was running towards them, alongside the weeping woman, and they carried between them a limp figure. And, oh! there was Bellyn behind them, wielding a knife and fighting off creatures like nothing Liornung had seen before. A shudder went through him, and the colour was completely lost from his cheeks. For a moment he was still, and then he took one step forward, his weapon in his hand.

And somewhere in the depths of his heart he could hear the strains of a fiddle sounding a battle cry.