Scarburg Meadhall

[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.”

[Folwren]

“You do not make too bold, Lithor,” Saeryn said. “I understand you, but I can not go tonight. I will follow to Edoras, once the business of tomorrow is finished. More good will be done if I wait to go until after the meeting here, because then I will be able to speak in more detail with the king. I thank you for your concern, and I am glad that you speak so freely with me. I hope it will not change. I hope nothing will change.”

Lithor bowed and Saeryn went past him to the wain bearing Eodwine. She climbed in beside him, over the blankets and furs packed about him and knelt once more by him. As she surveyed his face this last time, she held in check the tears that came to her eyes. Lithor and the others standing by looked away. Saeryn reached down and grasped his hand beneath the blankets.

“Wake up,” she whispered. “Please wake up, just to say goodbye.” Her eyes searched his still, pale face, but no answering flicker of consciousness changed his features. She bent her head and kissed his cold lips. Her tears fell on his cheeks.

She raised herself again and then slowly drew a lightly woven veil over his face to help keep out the cold. All was now ready. She moved back down the wagon and Lithor helped her step down.

“Go now,” she said, her voice hard in the attempt to keep from breaking down. “Go with what speed you may.”

Lithor bowed again and went to his horse. Æđel was already seated on the wagon seat, wrapped in a cloak and with the reins in her hands. Wilcred and Balvir mounted their horses. The wagon rumbled over the frozen ground and wound its way up and out of Scarburg. Saeryn stood alone in the courtyard, watching it leave. The inhabitants of the Hall stood in or near the doorway. Huddled by the corner of the hall, hidden in deep shadow, Javan crouched, his hands over his face, weeping tears for which he was not ashamed.

[Nogrod]

It was the most quiet breakfast Scarburg had witnessed since the advent of the new settlers there. Some of the people had not slept at all and most others had only dozed off in anguish. Lord Eodwine was loved and admired – and almost newly wed! There had been optimism beyond any dream in the Mead Hall. Everything had looked so rosy! And now he was just gone and none knew whether he was coming back.

It had been more bearable in solitude or in company of just your nearest ones, but now the people had to face it together. It was so much harder to share it as no one knew what to say or do. They just emptied their plates slowly, everyone waiting for someone else to relieve them from the situation; to say something encouraging or soothing.

Finally it was noted that Saeryn and Thornden were having a quiet counsel together and soon Thornden arose and called for attention.

"Friends, this is a dark day for all of us, and I know all our hearts are going with lord Eodwine right now." His voice trembled and he paused and bent his head for a moment to regain control of his emotions. He looked up again, and his eyes were clear and his face hardened. "But we have an important day ahead of us, and he would have insisted that we do our best to accomplish all that must be done."

Thornden let his gaze wander around the hall looking at every person.

“I do not know what you know or what kind of stories you have been told, but lady Saeryn and I have discussed this with lord Eodwine. We know what to except and what to do. The lords coming will not be pleased with what we have to tell them and we must be ready to face adversity. Let us try to make this hall look as great and grand as we can. Let us give them a brave face. Lord Eodwine counts on us today to succeed in carrying out his and the king's wishes. Let's show we are worthy of his trust, so that he can look on us with pride when he returns!"

It was not just one or two minds that changed the “when” into “if” while hearing the end of the encouragement-speech, but they all cheered and nodded to the general effort Thornden had made. Not that the cheers were too convincing. But they all knew none could have done more in that situation.

The slowed-down breakfast turned quickly into a busy morning. Everyone tried their best to get the places looking as fitting to a king’s hall as they could. Stigend even decided to bring down the two shortish flagpoles they had hoisted to the wall around the front door of the Mead Hall itself and started carving them hoping to make them look like decorated ones – and thus more worthy - before the landlords would come.


~*~


”Look!”

”What?”

”Over there! Coming from behind the corner!”

“Wow!”

“Ooops!”

“That’s an…”

“…army!” Garmund finished the sentence left by Cnebba.

“We’ll have to warn them!” He cried and ran back towards the Mead Hall.

“Wait, wait for us!” Cnebba yelled from behind him not sure whether the flashing of the weapons and banners in the bright October sun was more awesome than him joining the warning-party.

“C’mon Cnebba! Run!” Javan shouted at him and brought him back to reality. “We must go!” He grabbed Cnebba by the hand and yanked him up. “Run!”

Cnebba had time to glance backwards before he ran. The banners were flying from the speed and they made sharp snapping sounds that were so loud he couldn’t realise how they did that. The tips of the spears were bathing in sunlight glimmering in competition with the helmets and armour the oncomers wore. And all this with the background of red and yellow leaves in the trees and the cold autumn breeze. It looked fascinating.

And there were many… far more Cnebba could have imagined when they had decided to go to the edge of the woods to see them coming from the road. And they came with fair speed towards them. The thunder of the hooves startled Cnebba. He knew how a horse or two sounded when they galloped but this was something different, it was like a thunder coming towards them. He ran through the ground filled with piles of dropped colourful leaves…


~*~

The tumult had been heard around the Mead Hall as well when first Garmund and then Javan and Cnebba came rushing in.

“They’re coming!” Garmund yelled.

“It’s an army!” Javan added panting.

“Fly!” Cnebba screamed coming a little after the two others.

Stigend and Garstan stepped forwards to grab their sons and even Thornden made a move towards Javan but then draw back from it.

“No one is attacking us. Do not be afraid, Javan. They just want to show their might,” Thornden said, speaking loud enough for the others to hear it too – and hoping he could fully believe his own words. “This is the king’s hall and they wouldn’t dare attack us,” he added.

But he instinctively looked around the entourage he had around him to make a quick calculation. After Lithor, Wilcred and Balvir had gone to see lord Eodwine to Edoras they were even less a force to fight against the landlords and their men if it came to that. Raedwald was the most experienced soldier around, Osmund and Aethelstan were good lads… and there was Matrim. But after that? Just a few young soldiers Thornden had never thought of too highly – keeping with their own company and playing their own games.

He knew Crabannan was a warrior and Erbrand, Dan, Harreld, Stigend and Garstan would prove hard fighters if it came to it… but still. They were real soldiers, riders of Rohan, they were facing here.

~*~

Suddenly the first riders rushed into the yard from the road and the others - so many of them - followed. The sound was almost deafening and terrifying to those who had not heard of an approaching cavalry from that short of a distance - and it did send a shiver of recollection to those few who had.

They organised themselves in lines in front of the people of the Mead Hall standing in front and around the main doors of the hall itself. Counting quickly Stigend got 32 men on horseback in front of them, all armed and seemingly battle-ready. Some show of might indeed, he murmured to himself but couldn’t deny being impressed about the entry. These guys are not just fooling around…

Three men emerged from the middle of the frontline. They were clad in precious garments and their helmets shone with gold and silver, their armour and shields were real pieces of art. And they had the commanding stature of lords with them no one could deny.

“So what is this?” The oldest one of them in the middle bellowed without caring to dismount himself. “Where is Eodwine? And who are you? What is this rag-tag gathering here?” He scorned and then glanced at the other two smiling.

“Where have you hid master Eodwine? I can’t see him while I should know him…” Tancred continued and made a show looking like he was searching for Eodwine from the crowd. “I used to teach him to lead troops back in times… now where are you Eodwine?”. Faramund on his right couldn’t quite keep his amusement from plain sight and chuckled in half-tone.

Alboin on the left had stayed silent and grim but opened his mouth now. “We were summoned here by the authority of the king himself, through lord Eodwine and the Mead Hall. As I can’t see no more of lord Eodwine or any Mead Hall here I say we waste our time here.” Turning his horse sideways he addressed Tancred. “We’ve nothing to do here. It must have been a hoax…”

But Tancred waved his hand to Alboin. “Let’s hear what this scum has to say…”

“Maybe they have rebelled and killed lord Eodwine? And are trying to fool us into paying taxes to them? Good we have the men with us… we could reveal this plot… we would have acted in good faith bringing this little rebellion down?” Faramund added taking a grab of his sword.

Tancred moved quickly around. “Cut it Faramund! Let’s hear what they have to say.”

With that he turned towards Thornden and Saeryn who stood in the middle, in front of the door. “So what is all this? How do you explain lord Eodwine is not here and who are you? And what is this tom-foolery? We have no time for this kind of parties.”

The three lords faced them less than ten yards away all mounted high on their horses and looking sternly down at them. The around thirty horsemen behind the three clutched to their spears.