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Scyld had lingered outside the hall during the trial, as had a great many of the hall’s other denizens. Upon its completion, word quickly spread about Scyrr’s punishment, and Scyld heard no one say that they thought it too harsh. In Scyld’s mind, that meant that perhaps it was too soft – but he found that the thought meant little to him.
Scyrr emerged from the hall with a sneer and soon wandered off with some of his cronies. It was not long before the yard was wholly emptied out - it was, after all, rather cold, and everyone had their chores to attend to. Scyld rarely had an assigned duty but usually kept himself busy at whichever task for the day seemed most interesting or whose workmates would have the most interesting gossip. For once though, he found that he did not care for the intrigue. Perhaps he would go for a walk – he highly doubted anyone would miss him for a while.
First, though, he supposed he ought to fetch a warm cloak. He tried to tell himself that he had no other ulterior motive for returning to hall, and that the idea of seeing Rowenna again would be dangerous for him. It was not so cold.
He pushed open the door to the hall anyway. It was empty of everyone but the one person he most hoped and feared to see. He stopped in the doorway without thinking to watch her. Seeming to sense his presence, she stood up from her washing and turned around.
"Is there something you need, Nydfara? Food? Drink?" she asked. She looked startled, and Scyld wondered whether it she was startled because someone was there, or because he was there.
“No, no,” he said, leaning against the doorway. “Nothing like that.”
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