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Fire claimed the body of their fallen comrade; a companion murdered by the fell blows of an enemy far greater than a small company could ever hope to surpass. A war was coming, but for now there was a greater fear undertone. One had been claimed, body to ashes. As far and fast as they had come, they had not yet escaped the flames.
Ashes.
Fire had claimed the village. And now fire had claimed the body of Raedwald. And Eostre had no heart to cry even after she had stared into the heat of those flames to glance away and blink eyes into the dimmer lights with white overriding. She couldn't. How could she?
And now that the flames dimmed, and most had left the pyre's side, things were a strange sort of silent. They would leave soon. In the meantime, there were bodies to search; perhaps there were things left to scavage from the corpses. Weapons, perhaps gold or rope; even clothing might almost have been of use to the rumpled party in some ways.
Edoras had to arrive soon, before more people were murdered.
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