[Groin Redbeard]

Balvir and Wilcred gingerly lowered Eodwine’s stretcher onto the wagon.

“Carefully, carefully.” Muttered Wilcred.

It was an uncomfortable scene. It was still too dark to discard the use of torches and Eodwine’s face looked pale in the light. Such was the way of burying a commoner: in the early dawn so as not to disturb the populace, Lithor had seen it before. Eodwine’s features were all downcast, barely a breath escaping past his lips; yet he was alive. It took a strong will to govern a band as diverse as lord Eodwine’s. Thornden would undoubtedly assume lordship but Lithor doubted the young man’s will to rule. The young captain was too young, gracious, yet firmly uncompromising—age had not yet taught Thornden the virtue diplomacy. Thornden could no doubt handle tomorrow’s meeting with the nobles. However, if one of them were to make a stand against Eodwine’s rule, what then? Lithor could picture the scene, but as important as the meeting was, his duty lay elsewhere.

Balvir and Wilcred drew close around Lithor after lord Eodwine had been strapped down. They spoke in hushed voices. Lithor spoke first.

“Are the horses ready Wilcred?”

“Saddled and awaiting our departure.”

“By all that is proper, I hope that we leave soon! I feel very uncomfortable leaving our lord lying in the frigid air, not to mention us as well. Besides, the darkness should give us an advantage in slipping away unseen.”

“Quite right, Balvir, the sooner the better, but we will not take leave before we see the lady Saeryn once more. Also, we should have our bows and quivers before we set out. Did you send Matrim to get them?”

“Aye that I did Lithor.”

“Why have we need of any bows? Surely nobody would dare to attack an escort as clearly marked as ours carrying our lord’s banner. Our swords will do well enough if push comes to shove.”

“Despite all the odds, I would rather have a bow in my hand and an enemy a hundred yards off.”

“But why do you speak so Lithor? Do you suspect trouble on the road?”

“Have you forgotten? Tomorrow, Thornden will be holding a counsel for the nobles under lord Eodwine’s lordship, several of whom I know to be hostile to Eodwine. If news of our lord’s sickness and of his travel to Edoras seeps out we may very well expect an assassination. Lord Eodwine is a strong leader and if he is dead the king might very well have appoint a weaker ruler to govern Scarburg. There are few men capable of handling a job such as granted to Eodwine, even before the great war.”
The three turned and looked at Eodwine lying in the wagon a few feet away and instinctively gathered to him. The whistle of the cold wind and the noise inside the hall made an eerie combination. A dark shape was coming towards them out of the darkness with two riders. Lithor, Balvir, and Wilcred looked at each other, half afraid and amazed to see this after Lithor’s prediction.

“Who’s there?” Lithor asked half timidly.

“Me of course,” came the answer, “I got your bows like Balvir asked; I also took the liberty of bringing up Wilcred's and Balvir's horses.”

Lithor breathed hard as Matrim came into the torchlight, leading their horses. Wilcred and Balvir were angry for being fooled so easily. Balvir whispered a couple of words at Matrim that that the other two couldn’t hear; Matrim simply looked at the three confused.

“Did you want your bows or not? Lord Eodwine’s sickness is of great distress to all of us, but there is no need to take it out on me! Save such treatment for the wayfarers on the road.”

“What grief has set the jaundice on our cheeks?” Lithor laughed. “A merry band of fools we are: scared of the dark as if we were little Cnebba or Garmund. Hope for the best and prepare for the worst is my advice and if all goes well we will have no use of our weapons. And let us not hear anymore talk of our lord as if he were already dead. Indeed, I am ashamed to say that the woman folk have born this better than we men have. Whereas woman may be pardoned to weep, men may not. Therefore, lift your countenance and take hope in Eodwine’s strength.”

Balvir gave him a prod. When Lithor turned he saw lady Saeryn standing in the doorway. I wonder how much she heard? He made a formal bow and stepped forward.

“My lady, lord Eodwine is placed as securely as possible inside the wagon; he will not be uncomfortable or hurt in any way.” Saeryn did not seem to mind him; her eyes were transfixed on her husband. There was a longing in her eyes that Lithor recognized. He knew that Saeryn wanted to go with her husband but refrained on account of her duties as lady of Scarburg.

“My lady, I do not mean to presume on matters that I do not know, but, if you wish, I could guarantee safe conduct for you and lord Eodwine to Edoras, if you so wished?” Saeryn looked at him curiously. Lithor felt the need to explain further.

“I was never a formal speaker with your husband. Forgive me for being equally honest with you, my lady. There are many duties which your ladyship could accomplish for Scarburg while in Edoras, if that is what holds you here. The King will wish to hear of lord Eodwine’s progress here at Scarburg and with winter approaching you will have the safety of Edoras to rely on. Lord Eodwine will get well soon, but it will take nurturing that only a wife can give. Who knows what the winter holds for Scarburg, my lady. It might be wise to come with me and to stay with your husband in Edoras. Pardon me if I have spoken out of turn, my lady. It is but my humble opinion.”