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Old 02-26-2006, 10:14 PM   #80
Alcarillo
Shadow of the Past
 
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Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: Minas Mor-go
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Gárwine leapt out the door at Eodwine's command and ran into the stables kicking up hay and dust. Léof was tending to the old man's and the girl's horses.

"Léof! The old man's fallen on the floor! I need a horse; I'm going to Meduseld to find a healer." said Gárwine. He found Herefola's stall and was already unleashing her when Léof told him to stop.

"Take Marenil's horse. It's still prepared for a rider. I haven't taken off the saddle or reins yet; I've been tending to the girl's horse since they arrived."

Gárwine nodded his thanks and leapt upon the horse. With a crack of the reins they were out the doors and onto the streets of Edoras. The smaller, narrower streets were fairly clear of crowds, giving Gárwine long clear stretches to gallop through at top speed. But once Gárwine reached the great road that wound its way up from the gates to Meduseld on the hilltop, the way was blocked by crowds shopping in the market, which was apparently held on this day. Gárwine slowed his horse down to a trot and weaved his way through the people. Time was precious; every moment spent in the crowds was another moment the old man spent stretched out on the floor. Gárwine became agitated. He sped up the horse and darted between groups of people.

"Out of the way! There's an emergency!" He shouted as he rode. The people, though irritated, had no choice and moved towards the sides, letting Gárwine gallop through. With little delay he was at the foot of Meduseld's steps, where he gave the horse over to a guard for safekeeping. He rushed up the stone steps and for the second time that day entered Meduseld.

The air was cool inside and stirred by light breezes around the hall. The light was less dim than in the morning, but it was still rather dark. The windows high up the walls were the only sources of light. The throne at the opposite end of the hall was empty. The only occupants of the hall were a few guards in a corner, speaking in whispers, and a few servants who crossed through the shadows where the light failed to penetrate. Gárwine, not sure where to find a healer, stopped a passing solemn-faced attendant, arms piled high with linens.

"Sir, there's an emergency at the former White Horse Inn, and I have come seeking a healer." His words were quiet and calm. It was the tranquil feeling of the hall already calming him.

The attendant only nodded towards a corner and walked away. In the corner was a group of servants and other attendants, quietly talking among themselves. One of them saw the attendant's nod and approached. He was an aged man, with grey, wispy hair curling around his head and a thin and scrubby beard. His face was tanned and wrinkled by his many years out in the sun. He walked with a slight limp but he seemed untroubled by it.

"They call me Hrethel," he said, shaking Gárwine's hand, "What can I do for you, young sir?"

"There's been an emergency down at the mead hall," said Gárwine, but Hrethel shook his head. "The White Horse Inn, it was called," he clarified. Now Hrethel recognized the place. "Anyways, one of our visitors has collapsed upon the floor, and we need a healer quickly. Do you have a horse you can ride?"

"What do I look like, a rider of the Mark?" said Hrethel, "I'm a healer. I don't care much for horses."

"Well, you can ride mine," Gárwine said, noting the man's limp, "I can run. Do you know where the place is?"

"Certainly. I've been there once or twice back when it was ran by Bêthberry. I've heard she's gone east. Is it true?"

"I wouldn't know; I've never met her. Now come, time is passing!"

They exited the hall and ran down the porch steps. Gárwine handed the reins of Marenil's horse over to Hrethel, who mounted the horse with a wheeze. "I'll see you at the inn," Gárwine said, and Hrethel galloped down the hill with Gárwine running after him.
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