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Thornden, Lithor, and Balvir were left amongst all the people who were still cheering and laughing about the matches. They were all being congratulated and slapped on the back and the three of them could not help but join the infectious laughter. Thornen finally shouldered his way through everyone and went to put the two staffs down. He turned about again, wiping his hands on his pants. There was Stigend coming towards him with a stranger.
“Thornden!” Stigend called from several yards away. Thornden nodded.
“Stigend!” He smiled and came forward to meet them. “Who is this?”
“A guest. His name is Eodwemer.” Stigend paused slightly over the name. “Eodwine asked me to bring him to you that he might be welcome.”
Thornden paused one fraction of a moment, wondering why Eodwine had not done what he normally did and make the newcomer welcome himself, but then he looked at Eodwemer and bowed his head. “Welcome to Scarburg, sir.” Eodwemer bowed in reply. “Have you traveled far?”
“Some would call it far,” the old man answered.
“We will find you something to drink, and a place to sit. We are nearing the end of our games, and we can find you a place to watch the last sport.”
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