[Firefoot]

Leof could not keep himself from grimacing at Lord Eodwine's announcement. Just when it seemed that an already full day was winding down and he might figure out what to do with Cerwyn and what he was supposed to write to his father... which was nearly as undesirable a task as tending to overflowing human waste. He'd choose a stable full of stalls to muck over either task any day of the week.

Nevertheless he hastened to the Hall where people were milling about, talking before supper or tending to any number of small indoor tasks that never seemed to end, no matter how many rainy days kept them in.

He hesitated; it was unlike him to bring all the attention to himself but it would be far quicker to make the announcement to everyone at once. He needed their attention; he put his fingers to his lips and whistled, the sort of whistle that brought horses from the farthest corners of their pastures in for their dinners. Silence fell.
"Lord Eodwine has just told me that the dung pits are overflowing from the rain." A ripple of disgusted murmurs ran thorough those assembled. "And all who are able are to join him outside."

~*~*~*~

Folwren's post - Saeryn

Saeryn turned from Eodwine to go find Cerwyn who met her halfway across the hall. “I would gladly take your offer of something to eat now,” the girl said.

Searyn nodded and smiled. “I thought you would be hungry after a journey like that! Rain and mud takes it out of a body. The kitchen is this way.” She led her towards the kitchen as she spoke. She saw Eodwine speaking with Garreth, and she took a second glance when she saw Eodwine’s face wrinkled in disgust and displeasure. I wonder what is amiss, she mused inwardly just before pushing open the kitchen door.

“Rowenna, Frodides, Kara,” she said, entering. “Meet Cerwyn, Léof’s sister. She will be staying with us for a while.”

The women accepted Cerwyn into their midst and as they carried on conversation, Saeryn cut her some bread. She looked into the pots boiling over the fire. A thick healthy steam rose out of the first one she opened. She reached for a spoon and fished out some of the vegetables. They were not boiled to perfect softness yet, but they would be enough to tide Cerwyn over until the evening meal.

“I am sorry we have nothing better yet,” she said as she laid the bowl on the table. “Tonight we shall have a fine spread.”

Ledwyn entered the kitchen as Cerwyn sat down. “How is Wilheard?” Saeryn asked.

“He was asleep. I left him some brewed herbs,” Ledwyn replied, quietly.

“Thank you.” Saeryn looked away, but she watched her covertly as she walked across to the washtub and resumed her work of washing the remaining pots and utensils from the noon meal. Saeryn knew Ledwyn still grieved for her boy’s loss, but Saeryn did not know how to comfort her or what to say. She felt, sometimes, that the presence of her two, healthy children must be a bitter reminder to Ledwyn of her own child. Saeryn’s heart ached for the woman, but she did not dare try to express it.

Léof’s whistle from the hall interrupted her thoughts. She lifted her head towards it. She remembered Garreth speaking to Eodwine, and Eodwine’s grimace. She sighed. Something was wrong. “We’d better go out,” she said. “Stay here and finish up,” she told Cerwyn, laying her hand on her shoulder as she passed. “If it concerns you, I will let you know.”
She came back a moment later, her lips pursed in thought. “We have work outside,” she said in answer to Cerwyn’s questioning look. “The dung pits have over flowed.”

“May I be of service?” Cerwyn asked, rising.

Saeryn shook her head. “No. Stay here. You are tired and worn and have had more than your share of wet and mud today. If you are not too weary, you can see after our supper.”