Rowenna
So Scyld was in a bad temper; at least toward her. Fair enough, she thought. They all deserved to be in a bad temper, considering the nuisance of the flood and rains.
"Let's go have a word with Eodwine, see how he thinks we can both be useful."
She turned toward the eorl who stood in the midst of the Hall. She was not sure Scyld would follow, but that was really his choice.
This rain and flooding was too much. It was uncanny. There was no Dark Lord anymore, but it this much rain and flood must have wizardry behind it; or at least, something altogether out of their reckoning.
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