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"Do you play the harp, then?" Eodwine asked with sudden interest.
"I - I touch it," Manawyth replied, uncertain of his words.
"Then you shall touch mine!" Eodwine declared. "Gudryn, dear!"
"Yes, father?"
Eodwine asked her to fetch his harp, which she did gladly, running off quickly.
"'Tis almost the noon hour," Eodwine said. "You are thirsty, Manawyth of Dunland?" Manawyth acknowledged his thirst.
"Then mead you shall have to loosen your tongue, and mayhap the difference in our speech will be overcome by good ale and better song. Come! Sit by the hearth!" With that, Eodwine placed his arm on the Dunlending's shoulder, to the surprised and wide eyed stares of all those who had seen the tension between them. Murmurs passed between this and that onlooker. Eodwine was aware of it all, and smiled within.
Gudryn came back with the harp, and Ašelhild came out of the kitchen with a tray loaded with tall ale-cups, followed by Kara, who held a ram's horn, the flaring end held high. Eodwine smiled. This was one of his immediate changes, in keeping with the traditions of the Eorlingas, mead served in a ram's horn. Ašelhild came to Eodwine first, handed him a cup, then took the ram's horn from Kara, and filled his cup to the brim. He brought it to his lips and tasted it. He smiled.
"It is good!" Everybody cheered. "Let the horn be passed, starting with our new bard!"
So it was done.
After Manawyth had drunk from his mead cup, and set about tuning the harp, looking somewhat bemused at the turn of events, Thornden sat next to Eodwine.
"Lord, I am curious, and unsure how to broach my-"
"You wonder at my change toward yonder bard."
Thornden nodded.
"Bards have a special place in my heart. If this man is such a one, his place of birth matters not to me. That is the all of it."
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