Scarburg Meadhall

[Nogrod]

What a temper! Athanar had thought to himself shaking his head when Degas stormed out from the Hall. With a small movement of his hand he had waved his sons to sit down - which they reluctantly did. He could be useful if that rage could be directed to the right targets...

~*~

He took up Thornden's extended hand and shook it firmly looking at the young soldier to the eye. "I hope I could share your optimism Thornden. But I happen to know this lord Tancred too well... Many a sigh of relief were heard in Edoras when he moved away from there. He's not one of those you wish to have quarrels with for he is resourceful, cunning and strong lord used to get his will. And from what you have told me, he seems to be the ringleader here as well... That's no surprise to me." Letting Thornden's hand lord Athanar leaned back on the eorl's chair and brought his fingers together in front of his lips, like he was considering carefully what to say.

"Allright then..." he started after thinking for a moment. "Our kitchen staff will have their hands full today, but I need an inventory on our food supplies done the first thing tomorrow after the breakfast. Do we have enough people who know that kind of stuff?"

"Modtryth can help... and I can myself if needed." Saeryn said with a remnant of defiance in her tone. In this Mead Hall also the leaders worked. That was a message coming loud and clear from her words.

"And there are Frodides, Kara and Ginna to do that as well. We'll have it done before lunch time." Thornden added.

"Good... Then I would have to meet with the smiths and carpenters and others who have been involved in the planning and executing the construction work. They should also carry the information of what building supplies there are available here. I would like to see them already today if we have time after they have unloaded the carts we brought from the king. And I need to see the plans, the sooner the better..."

Thornden nodded but his face betrayed his confusion over the order of importance the new eorl seemed to have. And Athanar noticed it.

"Oh master Thornden... we all have our vices... or weaknesses... I have never lived in a building where I haven't have a role in designing it. And I'm not intending to make this the first exception to that. You might call it a hobby but I call it a passion..." The first time today lord Athanar smiled warmly and heartily. "My little passion it is..."

Saeryn and Thornden glanced at each other but didn't say a word.

"How about the soldiers?" Coenred asked filling the silence.

"Today it is party-time... but we need to gather all the soldiers tomorrow and make things clear. Some light excercise perhaps to make them get to know each other? We'll see about that..." lord Athanar looked at Thornden and Saeryn - and then at Coenred and his sons.

"But lady Saeryn here is actually correct in demanding that any issues on authority should be solved rather sooner than later. We might skip a step or two if they seem too problematic on our first meeting but with soldiers we need clear command-structures and authorities. No disciplined military force functions without it.

Now every soldier here is serving king Eomer through the eorlship vested on me by the king. That should be clear - even if young Degas seems to think differently. I'll forgive him his quick temper as I do hope he can come back to his senses.

And captain Coenred will be my second in command: as a captain of the rohirrim he is both the highest ranking and the most experienced officer around."

He turned towards Thornden once again. "But I would like to appoint you Thornden to be my personal lieutenant - if you accept the honour. You know this place and people who serve here better than Coenred or myself and I would appreciate your advice and counsel in all matters concerning this Mead Hall."

Before neither Thornden or Saeryn had time to comment he waved them to wait for just one thing more. "And you lady Saeryn... Obviously my wife Wynflaed will be the lady of the Mead Hall. There should be no question about that. But I am both ready and willing to grant you a special status here - like with Thornden. And I would be very pleased indeed if you aided my dear wife with her duties and running of this Hall with your experience and person... and with your own status."

Athanar smiled and laughed dryly. "You might think I'm a spoiled lord from Edoras hungry for titles and estranged from practicalities. That is an appalling stereotype but sadly quite true for many lords in the city. But I hope I can prove you wrong there... what say you lady Saeryn, Thornden?"

[Groin Redbeard]

“What a day!” Matrim exclaimed as Athanar went inside that hall with Thornden and Lady Saeryn.

“I know what you mean,” Lithor walked up behind him. “Don’t worry, he won’t take over completely, lady Saeryn will still command us.”

Matrim looked at him doubtfully, then at the entourage of wagons. “I don’t know, Lithor. He certainly looks wealthy and I’m not sure he would have brought all these gifts if it was for the simple reason of pleasing us.”

“Not true, my friend. Athanar simply did not want there to be any tension in his coming here. Besides, we need him.”

Matrim smiled and nodded. “Exactly, we need him. Tell me, do you think he’s the type of man who would use that as leverage to gain what he wants?” The question caught Lithor off guard. He looked at Matrim surprised; this was not the simple young man he knew when Eodwine ruled.

“I can’t say either way. Athanar was not in Edoras when we brought lord Eodwine. Besides, change will come whether we want it or not. Let’s give this new fellow, Athanar, a chance. Eodwine would have wished it. Let’s greet our guests.”

They walked forward. Athanar’s soldiers had dismounted, but did not depart from their horses. Their gazes seemed cold and aloof—these soldiers were not the type that Lithor was used to. The officers stood as if at attention gazing at the people of Scarburg. One of the officers was staring at him from under a glistening helmet. Lithor waved, you never knew which old friend you might bump in to. The officer removed his helmet and bowed formally without saying a word, maintaining an air that reeked of discipline and arrogance. Lithor grimaced. A courtier, a dashing a cavalier. Lithor and Matrim went to look at the presents stored in the wagons.

Suddenly amidst the wonder and excitement of examining the stored treasures, Lithor heard shouting, an argument. Lithor quickened his pace and Matrim followed, a mysterious energy seemed to glow in his eyes. He could see them now, Wilcred was shouting at a soldier. As they neared the argument he began to distinguish words.

“How dare you! I should rip out your tongue for that insult.”

“I meant no offence, friend. I stand by what I say because it is true.”

“Peace friends,” Lithor commanded. “What’s the trouble here?”

“I’ll tell you,” Wilcred said silencing the other soldier, “this fellow has ordered me, to take his horse and find him drink and food. I responded by saying that I am not his stable boy and he responded by insulting lady Saeryn.”

“What say you to the charges soldier?” Lithor asked inquisitively, not sure if Wilcred was exaggerating. By now more soldiers had gathered round them.

“I admit to being a bit brutish in my bossing this fellow around,” the soldier responded calmly. “As to my insult, I mumbled it, not wishing for this man to hear; yet he heard it and I apologize.”

“What did you say?”

“I said that this soldier’s discipline,” he pointed at Wilcred, “has diminished due to his long dependence on a woman’s weak stewardship.” The soldier looked very humiliated for having to say it again in public. He lowered his gaze.

“Runt!” Lithor turned to see Matrim’s eyes lit with fury. “I’ll teach you proper respect!”

Before Lithor could grab him, Matrim had flung himself upon the soldier and thrown him to the ground. Again Matrim jumped on the man and together they rolled and dealt each other heavy blows. A horse neighed and reared itself in panic as the two neared it. Lithor jumped forward to intercede, but before he could, the brawny figure of the blacksmith stepped in. Harreld reached down and pulled the two apart. Crabannan rushed forward and held Matrim back while the soldier’s friends gathered around. Lithor was furious. If Athanar hears of this brawl who knows what might happen.

“Go and cool off, Matrim!”

The soldier was being looked after by his friends and Matrim took his leave quickly. Lithor breathed a long sigh. This is not acceptable. Harreld, Stigend, Crabannan, and a few others gathered around.

“Thanks Harreld, Crabanna. I doubt I could have stepped in before the brawl turned into a real mess.” Harreld looked away and noticed a man with a stern look coming their way.

“It doesn’t look like our troubles are over yet.”

[Durelin]

When they first arrived at Scarburg, Coenred was all at once filled with worry and a sense of being home. It was a relief to ride into this modest emnet after so long in Edoras - it brought back memories of home and working with his hands. But he also realized that this 'modest' appearance was partly because of the troubles of a growing land.

Coenred was pleased that he was able to be included in this meeting with the current officials of Scarburg, and knew it was more important to start seeing to the running of this Mead Hall than seeing to the horses and supplies. Coenred reddened slightly when Athanar introduced him as his "precious right hand man," pleased by the 'title.' He doubted he would have anything to contribute to discussion, but he was glad to have the chance to listen to the proceedings to better understanding the situation they had entered into. Some things he was sure would be answered quickly, such as how receptive the current leaders of Scarburg would be to a new Eorl and to aid in any form, and he found he was quite correct.

The young man, Degas, spoke with arrogance to the lord Athanar- and even though Coenred respected his desire to defend his family, he was more than happy to see the boy leave. He had a great deal of misplaced surety about him, especially considering is fresh young face. He needed some good old-fashioned discipline. Coenred was not really familiar with the laws of inheritance, but he saw it as just picking a fight to question Athanar's intentions when not only was he sent by the king himself, but also the child in question was not even born! Would it even be a son? Would it even survive to its birth?

Coenred almost sighed when he saw that the Lady Saeryn all but echoed Degas' complaints. She was quite young as well, of course not surprising if this was her first child, and she apparently was as hotheaded as her brother. Did she expect for the emnet to be handed over to her governance? Or did she expect to re-marry as soon as possible and that a man of her choosing would be eorl? It was one thing to be concerned about her child, another to be concerned about her own power. She should be thankful for aid, as they surely needed it.

Coenred was pleased that the man Thornden stepped in to turn the topic over to real issues of governance - the landlords and the coming of winter. He nodded sadly, recalling the winters he had survived as a child. He had lost one of his sisters to a bad winter, and another sibling before he or she was even born.

The Lady Wynflaed spoke wisely and diplomatically, attempting to soften the rough ground that already lay between her and her husband and the Lady Saeryn. When the wife of the former Eorl spoke again, Coenred felt more admiration for her this time, and a fondness for these people of Scarburg. But he shook his head slightly when she suggested that Athanar and those with him were "those who are beyond the hard work and can just sit idly by and watch the work be done by others." She needed to learn a bit, just like her brother. But they were young.

When there was a pause, and things felt a little on edge, Coenred decided to speak up, not only desiring to touch on the subject but also to direct attention away from the building plans which may have caused another sore spot. "How about the soldiers?" he asked, concerned ultimately with his own duties and not with governing or power structure. Tomorrow was the answer, and Coen would not argue, even though he desired to see what Scarburg had to offer.

"...captain Coenred will be my second in command: as a captain of the rohirrim he is both the highest ranking and the most experienced officer around," Athanar said. This was no surprise to Coen - they had discussed this before ever arriving. He still was not sure about his position, and certainly doubted his ability to fulfill it, but he would not refuse to serve Athanar in whatever way the man wished him to serve. He felt most at home working with the soldiers, and he hoped his position would involve little beyond that. Though he knew one of his duties would be to support the Lord Athanar in every way, and help to uphold his position as the new Eorl. Though such a duty was immensely important to him, he was not looking forward to dealing with the Lady Saeryn, her brother, or any others who tended toward spite.

Waiting nervously for a response from the Lady Saeryn and her servant Thornden, Coen hoped this meeting would draw to an end, or would allow him an exit, soon. Though he trusted Hilderinc fully, he did not like sitting here without knowing how the preparations were going or being the one to give his men orders.

[Nogrod]

Stigend, Garstan and Harreld were the first to rush to the last two carts. The wagoners were scrumpy old men and didn't pay too much attention to them while they examined the loads.

"Look at the quality of the timber!" Stigend shouted in awe.

"Look at the slate stones! We'll get a stone floor after all!" Garstan yelled.

"Iron! Real iron! Wait 'till you see what I will make of this!" Harreld went on enthusiastically.

It was like a birthday to them.

Stigend was looking around and finally spotted a soldier who was still standing beside the carts and holding his horse.

"Hey you there! What is your name?"

"I'm Baldwic, son of Baldwin..." the man said hesitatingly, and added: "What is it up to you?", trying to reach a more comfortable tone.

Stigend smiled and walked towards him. "How old are you Baldwic?"

It was a question that took Baldwic by surprise. And before he realised it he gave an answer. "I'm eighteen years old, sir."

Baldwic looked genuinely confused on his own behavior and tried to change it only to see Stigend taking the last few steps to face him straight on. "Now what...?" he managed to utter before Stigend was in front of him.

"If I were you I would ask this officer of yours to order some helping hands around here. Remember, no ale before everything is unloaded..." Stigend looked at the young soldier trying to keep his face stern. It was hard as he felt such a pity and care for the young insecure soldier in front of him... he remembered himself back in times when he had to show off a brave face even if he was just too young to pose as a soldier. He struggled between real pity for the lad and a burst of well-meaning laughter to life and everything.

"What's going around here?" a rider appeared from somewhere still on horseback. "Any trouble Baldwic?"

"No Feargall, no... I was just..." Baldric began.

"My friend just told him you guys could give us a hand here unless you're strongly against having a pint of ale soon..." Garstan put in smiling to the man on the horse.

"It's up to Hilderinc to give orders around here... not me... or you." the man named Feargall said calmly.

Suddenly they all heard the noises from around a few wagons ahead of them. It was like there was an argument of sorts. The discussion was closed and they all rushed to see what had happened.

~*~

"Where should we then?" Cnebba hissed in enthusiasm as the three kids were looking at things unfolding at the yard leaning at the warm kitchen wall.

"Sneaking to the meeting inside?" Leodthern thought out aloud.

"Blah, that's boring... that's just talk and talk... How about the horses? Look at those..." Garmund noted while seeing two great white stallions passing them with shining riders on them.

"Hey... a fight!" Cnebba ran. Garmund and Leodthern followed him. There was a fight to be sure beside the first carts. And what would be more exciting than a fight!

They were on place just too late. They had seen from further away there was a fight but they reached the place only when Harreld took the two apart and others ran in. The disappointment could be read from the young faces...

[Folwren]

Saeryn regretted her choice of words as soon as they had escaped her lips. She looked crestfallen as their effect became obvious on the newcomers. When would she ever learn to curb her tongue and her feelings? She listened in silence while Athanar wrapped up the formal meeting and dismissed everyone. She and Thornden rose and stepped back, they both bowed slightly to Athanar and his wife and then drew aside.

“What would you have me do now, my lady?” Thornden asked.

“Just go out and see that all is well between our people and the newcomers, Thornden. See if you can help with anything.”

“Of course.”

“I will be in my room,” she said. It was not really her room. She had given up the room she and Eodwine had stayed in so that Athanar and his wife could be in comfort while they were there, and the place where she and Eodwine had lived was the only real comfortable place for a man and wife to be together. She had proposed moving into the women's quarters with all the other ladies, but the people would not allow that. Stigend and Garstan had assured her that it would be a simple matter to put up a privacy wall in one of the corners. With a little bit of persuasion, she had agreed, and they had built her a private room for herself. She would be near the other women, but she would still have her own place to go.

Thornden nodded and turned to go. “Thornden,” she called after him. He turned. “Thank you for speaking there for me, just now. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Thornden nodded again. Then he said, “If there is anything else I can possibly do for you, do not hesitate to let me know.”

Saeryn smiled a little. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.” He bowed and turned away again. Saeryn’s smile faded and she, too, departed the hall. It was colder in the women’s quarters and in her room. Saeryn picked up her shawl from her bed and wrapped it close around her shoulders. She sat down on the foot of the bed, pulled off her shoes and curled her legs beneath her.

For a long time she sat, silently mulling over what had just passed. Had she acted acceptably, or had she spoken as a fool? Did she have a right to wish to cling to her status? Was she frightened for imaginary reasons, or real ones? She felt so lost and confused, she didn’t know what to think. As the thought of Eodwine sprang to her mind, tears filled her eyes suddenly.

“I try to be strong,” she murmured aloud. “But I need you, Eodwine.” She laid her hand on her stomach. “Soon I will need you more than ever.”

Her musings were doing her no good. She must talk to someone, and the only person she could truly pour her heart out to was Degas. She rose to go find him.

[Thinlómien]

Wulfric and Wilheard walked out of the hall and strecthed almost identically in the fresh air.
"Whoa," said Wilheard. "That was easily the most boring meeting ever." "Possibly," Wulfric agreed drily. He was looking at the crowd unpacking the arrived goods and packages. There were a lot of people and even more folk was joining the chores, now the peasantish officer and a suspiciously Dunlending-like woman.

"Hey! Where are you going, Will?" Wulfric shouted. His little brother was striding not to the masses of people, but to the stables.
"Riding," Wilheard replied with a slight shrug.
"We were supposed to do the unpacking, idiot," Wulfric pointed out.
"As if I cared," Wilheard replied. "There seems to be enough peasant folk seeing to the stuff, we would be just on the way."

Wulfric set his jaw in a stubborn way. "You are not going anywhere, kid." In truth, he preferred riding to unpacking just as much as his brother.
"You're going to run and tell mummy and daddy, are you?" Wilheard asked gleefully.
"No," said Wulfric with a hint of a grin. "I'm going to beat some sense into your thick skull."
Wilheard flashed a grin in return. "Catch me if you can, then!" Without further warnings, he dashed to the stables and appeared in no time at all, riding his grey steed who seemed to be as enthusiastic as his master. "You'll never catch me, Wulf, I've always been a superior horseman!"

"Maybe so, but if I catch you, you'll be in deep trouble - for I've always been the better fighter, you little maggot!" With this words, Wulfric ran to the stables to quickly saddle his horse and urge it to follow the grey, almost running over some peasant carrying packages. But Wilheard, of course, was already almost out of sight. Cursing, Wulfric urged his big white horse to run.

[Groin Redbeard]

Lithor did not know what to say. His plan had not worked. He could not understand it, this had always been his usual course for lightening up the mood. Did he overdo it? No, for it had always worked before. Maybe a straight forward approach would work—Lithor did, obviously, not impress his guest with all his court talk. However, Lithor decided against it, Hildernic was did not seem in any mood for humor.

“Now that hurt.” Lithor said inspecting his clothes after Hildernic left.

Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. Hildernic, was certainly a tough nut to crack. Perhaps later at dinner they could get a word in edgewise. Lithor would not give up on the man. Besides, he did not believe Hildernic to be as gloomy as he let on. Yet, there is time for all that later, for now, duties were to be done. Lithor took the horses that Hildernic pointed out as Athanar’s and took them to the stable. He had never considered himself a stable boy, but for today it would be prudent for to act as one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erbrand

Nodding slightly, he took the package and Coenrad thanked him before taking off. Erbrand held the package in one hand and examined the tool that Coenrad had picked up with the other.

“What on earth is this?” Erbrand wondered out loud. Another one of those city comforts?

Cnebba was still standing looking at the package and then pack at the large pile of boxes and trunks waiting to be brought. Erbrand noticed it and took the hint.

“Make yourself useful Cnebba, run and find some mischief like young boys are supposed to do. At least you’ will be out of everyone’s way.” He finished with a wink and a smile.

Erbrand placed the box down and went for another one. The morning was almost spent and he had not done any real work yet. Some work would do him good, take his mind off his fight and the newcomers.

[Nienna]

Ædre ran out of the stables and looked for a place to hide just in case that man came looking for her. It wasn’t that she feared him at all. She just didn’t know where she stood with him or how to act around him.

These peasants are so strange. No one at home would have spoken to me like that.

Degas did have one thing going for him, though; he was nice to Leta.

Frustrated and uncertain, Ædre was scanning the area. She noticed a group of people unloading her family’s belongings. She was about to turn away to find something more interesting when she saw a boy who looked younger than her, drop her mother’s favorite comb and then just stare at it. An older man picked it up and spoke to the boy who then meekly trotted off. She saw this as an opportunity to settle herself into the hierarchy that she knows exists – at least at home - between all local children. She was the new girl and she needed them to know that she wasn’t to be bossed or pushed around. She was, after all a descendant of Aldor the Old, and not to be treated as a commoner.

“Hey! You, boy!” she shouted at the child who was trotting away. Cnebba, startled, turned around to look and see if he was the one being summoned.

“Me?” he asked. Ædre nodded and Cnebba began to introduce himself because obviously this girl was new around here.

“I do not care,” said Ædre interrupting him. “The only important thing is that you know that I am the daughter of the Eorl and a descendant of Aldor the Old.”

Cnebba just stared at her not sure how to react to the way he was being treated. He began to speak again but was interrupted.

“Go bring me my trunk, because who knows where it has landed, and then run to the kitchen and bring me something to eat. I am hungry.”

[Mnemosyne]

A simple word to one of the locals gave Wynflaed the location of the eorl's bedroom. No doubt Lilige was within, diligently unloading her belongings. Wynflaed let a small smile grace her lips. She was rather fond of her maid, though of course she would not admit such a thing to her face.

The meeting had gone about as well as could be expected. She had hardly thought that she and Athanar would arrive with no challenges to their authority, and it would take time to wear the walls of distrust and hurt down.

At least those two sons of hers had done as they were told and kept their mouths shut! It was hard enough when her husband had momentary lapses of tact--though, of course, she appreciated his ability to utter truths deemed too impolite to come from a lady of the Eorlingas.

At least the Lady Saeryn was not pressing her counterclaim... for now. She was already feeling from the servants' dark looks of curiosity that she pretended not to notice that her household would not be wholly welcome, not for a good while at least. She did not doubt that if--say, that Degas pushed her to some rashness--the will of the people would remain with the old order of things. And that would go ill for all.

She had hoped to speak with her husband before the banquet, to remind him once again to temper his new pronouncements with soft words. He had already done well to release the new provisions from Edoras to the people, as soon as they had arrived. But no matter. He already knew her mind on this, and she knew from long years of experience how effective a lord he made.

She stepped inside the room that was to be theirs for--how long? She had heard much of the healing arts of Gondor; it could be that the Lord Eodwine could still recover...

She pushed the thought from her head. The room was sparse, and from first sight the bed looked much plainer than the one that had graced their house at Edoras. But already most of her things--of those that had arrived, at least--had been put away.

"Thank you, Lilige," she said, without turning to look at her. She bent over to pick up a small, polished, wooden box. It had been carved from a tree whose trunk now upheld the roof of Meduseld. Carefully she set it just so on the corner of the bed and opened it. She would have to decide which of her gems would make the best impression on these new and uncouth people.

"I shall want my hair in a braided crown for the banquet tonight, Lilige," she said. Then she turned to look at her maid; she was emptying whichever trunk must have been brought in most recently. "What think you of the people here, thus far?"

[Folwren]

Thornden stood by and waited for all the other soldiers to lead their horses off before him. He admitted that he was half waiting for Coenred, to see if he wished to speak to him. Sure enough, as the others were slowly walking away, the captain came near him. Thornden turned towards him to meet him and Coenred nodded.

“They are good men,” he said. “I look forward to working with them more.”

Thornden smiled a little. “Yes, they are good men. I think you will find that as you work with them they will progress quite well. They know what to do, it just has been so long since they actually did it that they are rusty.” He took his horse’s rein and began walking him back towards the hall, inviting Coenred to walk beside him. They went several paces in silence.

“I guess you will be giving all the orders now, concerning the watches and all that,” Thornden said. “Will you change who watches when, or do you wish me to tell you what the plan has been thus far?”

[Durelin]

Coenred felt unease rise up from a controlled ball in the pit of his stomach at Thornden's question. That the young man began with "I guess you will be giving all the orders now," caught him off-guard and made him wary of where this conversation would lead. He greatly wished he was still in Edoras, or even back home, without this title of 'Captain.' And yet there was a part of him that wondered how the Lord Athanar would fare here without a man like him.

The last thing Coen wanted was another man filled with anger over politics or perceptions, but he was not about to let Thornden walk over him, much less would he lie to the man. He hoped that the way the drills were handled had demonstrated somewhat to the soldiers and Thornden how the tiny guard at Scarburg would be handled, and obviously it had on some level, or the young man would not have remarked on Coen 'giving all the orders.'

It did amuse Coen, though, how the young man finished his question. 'Concerning the watches'...of course, what else had they to worry about? But no, he would not just be giving the orders in regard to the watches.

"It serves no good for there to be two men giving orders, and I am the Captain of the Guard here. But I will be working with you, Master Thornden, particularly since you will continue administrative duties under the Lord Athanar. Whatever information you can give me about the men and the duties they are accustomed to is appreciated -- I doubt anyway that my vision of a functioning hall guard and your and the Lord Eodwine's vision differ much at all."

Coen added the last statement for good measure, and hopefully as a reminder that he and the Lord Athanar and the men they brought with them were all men of the Mark, subjects of the same king, and sharers of land and language. It seemed somewhat as if many had managed to forget this. If one more man made a remark that made the Lord Athanar out to be an invader or usurper, the Captain was prepared to send a man to Edoras on his Lord's behalf...

[Folwren]

Thornden paused in his stride and looked at Coenred. This man sounded almost as though he felt he were cornered. Thornden did not like misunderstandings. He had spent too long with Eodwine who always addressed things head on to beat about the bush. “I am not resentful of your position, Captain,” he said. “Nor do I envy you. I won’t try to take charge. However,” he shot a glance forward to the last of the soldiers returning back to the stables. They had fallen behind some way and could talk without being heard. “I have something to impart to you that affects the watches, which is why I mentioned it.” He stopped altogether and Coenred stopped beside him.

“You may have met the healer, Æðel. She is not what she seems, and she is not safe. In the past, I have had the responsibility of seeing that was protected at all times, which made the setting of the watch very important, for I had to be careful that the entire guard did not realize who she was. It is a delicate matter, and I only tell you because you are now in charge of it. Lord Athanar will know of what I speak, for he will have been informed of it when he was asked to take Eodwine’s place. I will tell you what I can, if you ask it of me, but I do not know everything, and if you wish to know everything, you will have to ask him, or the Lady Æðelhild.”

He looked at Coenred a moment and then started forward again, leading his horse. He waited for Coenred to speak, and at the same time hoped he had made the right choice in telling the new Captain about Æðel. He had been ordered to keep it secret, but things had changed so much that he thought this course best. Coenred must know his duty in protecting her lest the protection be taken away.

[Folwren]

Saeryn was incensed, and Thornden sitting near her could feel it. This was all very difficult for her, he knew, and neither of them knew where it would end. He addressed Athanar.

“For myself, I willingly accept the position you offer, insofar as it does not contradict any wishes of my lady. I will do my best to aid you in whatever way possible. Coenred must, of course, take charge of the men-at-arms.” He looked the captain in the eye and nodded his head slightly. He hoped Coenred was as good a man as he looked.

Thornden looked again at Athanar. “But as for lady Saeryn, I fear that I speak for both of us, when I say that she can not be replaced, even by your wife. Do not mistake me, I mean no disrespect to you or your wife, sir, but it can not be forgotten that lord Eodwine is not dead, and you are not here to replace him but to temporarily fill his place. Lady Saeryn is here, and she is still in her rightful place as lady of hall. She must have a say in what is done here, and if your wife takes her place, then she will no longer have the authority she needs.”

[Nogrod]

Athanar had nodded approvingly while Thornden spoke about his own position in the Mead Hall, but the veins clearly visible on his forehead were getting larger as he listened to what Thornden said about Saeryn and his wife, but he cooled himself astonishingly fast - even to Wynflaed's experience. He forced a smile as he knew not what he should say. But as an experienced lord he was quick into a solution.

"As I said, I'm ready to grant her..." he turned his eyes towards Saeryn. "to grant you, a special status in here. You will have a say in what is done here... You will. But you'd need to negotiate things with us... and we'd help you as you'd help us." He made a pause recollecting his thoughts.

"The main thing is, that we should get through these following hard months as united as possible. We face the landlords, the building-work, the possible problems with the different staff trying to learn to live with one another... As leaders we should show some leadership in that, don't you think? If we argue publicly - or if anyone learns we argue on things even privately - then building unity in the Mead Hall is a lost case. That's why I ask you lady Saeryn to talk with your brother and I am ready to forgive him his harsh and incosiderate language if he comes to his senses. We can come back to the issues of procedures and statuses when the winter comes and we have overcome the first hurdles in front of us. What do you think?"

From the corner of his eye Athanar saw that Coenred was clearly troubled and turned towards him. "Coen..." he addressed him. "If you think you'd like to take a look outside on how Hilderinc is faring, please do it. We can settle the rest without you as well as your position is now clear."

He had known Coenred for almost fifteen years and always knew when he was unhappy. Now his face had just screamed to be sent off from the meeting and Athanar was more than willing to grant him that. After all he was a bit worried how the men would come along with one another outside and how Hilderinc could handle any possible problems out there.

[Loslote]

As Lilige coaxed the unloaders into at least attempting to be gentle with the load, she heard shouts, and saw flurries of movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw one of the soldiers who had traveled here with her party and one of the locals wrestling on the ground. Lilige's eyes widened. They had only just arrived, and already they were being attacked by locals. She moved so that her back was against the cart, as far away from the brawlers as possible.

"Is this behavior common here?" Lilige asked one of the men unloading the cart. Her voice trembled and squeaked. She cleared her throat and began again. "Is brawling a common pastime here?" she asked. She feared for the safety of her Lady and her Lady's daughter in such rough conditions. She was, of course, also afraid for herself, but the Ladies were noble born. They ought not to be expected to bear with such brutal surroundings. Another thought occurred to her.

"How did the fight start?" she asked. There may be a perfectly reasonable explanation. She couldn't think of one at the moment, but then, this place and its manners were new to her. It was possible that she was overreacting. The fight was over now, anyways. Shaking her head at her own childish fear of a event that probably had little importance, Lilige returned to reminding the unloaders to be careful with the trunks.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

When Hilderinc walked to the scene, he was too late to see what had just happened, but he could as well make a good guess. A group of the Scarburgians was glancing at him sideways as he approached and several of lord Athanar's soldiers were standing just a short distance apart, surrounding Áforglæd. Hilderinc glanced at the horse: it looked fine, while Áforglæd did not. Picking a fight with the Scarburgians? That didn't sound like Áforglæd's style, though from what Hilderinc knew about the young soldier, it would not be impossible to imagine that he provoked the fight by some rather impetuous action.

Hilderinc turned first to him and the group surrounding him.

"Why are you not taking care of the horses?" he said, as if he did not notice the few bruises on Áforglæd's face. "If yours are already in the stables, go and help to lead the cart-horses there, if the wagons are already unloaded."

The soldiers followed his order, some of them slightly reluctantly or with ambiguous expressions.

"Áforglæd, you stay here for a while."

Some of the soldiers looked back.

"They started it, Hilderinc," shouted Scyrr, the senior guard of Athanar's house.

Hilderinc turned to him with cold eyes. "Didn't you hear the lord's order? Go about your business."

"Oaf," he heard Scyrr whisper under his breath, but ignored it. Over the past few months, he got used to the fact that some of Athanar's guard did not respect him because of his incommunicativeness. But he did not concern himself with it now. He turned to the Scarburgians. He could have as well asked Áforglæd himself, but he felt it was more tactical to engage the natives directly, also to emphasise the impression that he was not taking any sides here.

"What was that?" His eyes moved from one to another, he was not quite sure to whom of this company he should speak to as to their representative, but he did not let his expression give out anything of his uncertainity. "What happened here?"

[Folwren]

Thornden and Saeryn glanced at each other. “Not in Scarburg,” Saeryn said, shaking her head and looking at Athanar. “I mean, the people here are not quarrelsome. They loved Eodwine because he gave them all he had. You treat them fairly, and serve them half as well as Eodwine served them, and they will respond to you as whole-heartedly as you should wish.”

Saeryn spoke like a woman, and even Thornden realized that. He addressed himself to Athanar. “What my lady means is that we have no truly hardened characters here. They will do their best to please and be pleased. But, yes, there are issues on which they will be sensitive about. They will be very upset when they hear that your lady has taken Saeryn’s place. Not,” he added quickly when he saw the cloud once more forming on Athanar’s brow, “that they have a right to form any judgement about such matters, but nevertheless, they will feel that she has been wronged. I am merely warning you – be careful how you handle that and in what way it is finally broken to them that she is no longer their lady.

“And they will not like anything that Eodwine has done to be changed. I know you will not be pleased with this, my lord, but to change the plans of the hall will appear foolish to them, especially the carpenter and his helpers. They know, as do I, that we have made plans that will utilize our supplies to their greatest fulfillment. We have planned the bare necessities, and we cannot finish the plans with what we have here. Now that you have brought some supplies, we will be able to finish, but if you try to alter the floor plan and add a great deal to try to make this into some great hall. . .no, that will not go well with them at all.”

Athanar listened carefully, looking Thornden squarely in the eye as he spoke. “Is there anything else?” Athanar asked, when Thornden paused.

“Forgive me, sir, yes,” Thornden said. “You have already removed me from my place as leader of the men-at-arms. That is all very well, for Coenred is my superior in rank, and the soldiers, at least, will realize and accept it. But be careful of replacing everyone here. You will have idle people on your hands and they may grow resentful.”

“Ha! They’ll hardly be idle!” Athanar said with a laugh. Thornden did not smile.

“I am serious. Eodwine has carefully chosen the people he has, and to replace them would be changing what he set up, and as I just said, the people will not like that.”

[Durelin]

Coen simply looked at the man for a moment, having been pulled sharply from his thoughts. He was a local, as Coen did not recognize him and he was in very simple peasant garb. Once his mind could wrap itself around the question, the captain thought about his response for half a moment, though he knew immediately what he should convey.

"It goes well, sir," he said politely. It was clear the man was embarrassed by what he had done, grabbing Coen forcefully. Either nerves were that strung out or he had thought Coen was someone else. "The lord Athanar and your lady Saeryn have begun their friendship and have started discussing business of the Mead Hall."

He paused, considering the man for a moment. He was about the same height as Coen, and quite a bit younger it seemed...and there was an odd smell about him, which took Coen a moment to place - he was a tanner.

"I am Coenred, a servant of the lord Athanar," he introduced himself.

[Mnemosyne]

"Duly noted, Thornden," said Wynflaed. "Rest assured that my lord Athanar will only implement those changes which he deems absolutely necessary for the good of the Hall." Her eyes flicked over to her husband.

"You must understand, and indeed it shall be our burden to make known to the people, that we of Edoras often have a different conception of what exactly that good is. Yet trust that we do not change things for the sake of change alone, nor that we change things without any discussion beforehand.

"My lady Saeryn," she said, turning to look at her, "I hope, when my family and I are more settled, and matters press in on all of us less closely, that we may arrange some sort of private meeting concerning the domestic ordering of the Hall. I do not wish to court the disfavor of the people through letting them think I am naught more than a usurper."

[Folwren]

Thornden was right. Saeryn allowed him to speak while she sat by silently. She had wanted to paint an overly good picture of the people, but Thornden showed a more realistic side. He did not exaggerate. What both she and he had found startling and otherwise unacceptable in their minds at the meeting here, everyone else would be dissatisfied with, too.

She was growing tired of this. Athanar had expressed a desire to talk, so that they could decide how best to run Scarburg, but all it seemed that he did was tell them how he was going to run it.

“You must understand, and indeed it shall be our burden to make known to the people, that we of Edoras often have a different conception of what exactly that good is. Yet trust that we do not change things for the sake of change alone, nor that we change things without any discussion before hand.”

Why must anything change? When things are smooth among a set of people, when quarrels are seldom, and everyone works together like a well oiled machine, what could possibly be better? Did they really think that they were sent here to make order among the people? They were only here as figureheads, so that the other ignorant landlords would honor them and pay their dues.

It was pointless to say any such thing. She looked politely towards Wynflaed as she addressed her.

“My lady Saeryn, I hope, when my family and I are more settled, and matters press in on all of us less closely, that we may arrange some sort of private meeting concerning the domestic ordering of the Hall. I do not wish to court the disfavor of the people through letting them think I am naught more than a usurper.”

Domestic ordering of the hall, indeed! What do you plan on changing? We do not live in filth and stench – the place is kept clean, I have no complaints – and our meals come on time. What more do you really expect from the girls?

Saeryn inclined her head slightly, smiled a little, and said out loud, “Of course. I will be ready whenever it is your convenience.”

[Firefoot]

Because they were his friends? The answer seemed glaringly obvious to Léof now. But he had not intended to make such a big deal out of this issue of deserters and traitors. He had only added the question as an afterthought – and he didn’t want any of these soldiers to think he was asking because he had been someone to help out Erbrand! So instead he said, “Perhaps you are right,” he said instead, hoping to let the matter drop. “My question was ill thought-out.”

By now their company had reached the edge of the fields behind the meadhall and would soon be ascending into the Scar. Were it not for the dark overtones of the day, Léof thought that he might thoroughly enjoy this ride. The air was chilly but not yet cold, and overhead the sun shone palely out of a crisp blue sky. They were not here to enjoy the scenery though. “I suppose we ought to be on the lookout for them now,” he commented. Or at least pretend to be, more like.

[Mnemosyne]

Wynflaed's eyes flicked over to Saeryn, as if reminding herself of all that she had just heard from her. She seemed hesitant--

Ah, yes. Saeryn, at least, knew enough comportment to know when to hold her tongue.

"I only know," she told Athanar, "what I heard from Lilige, from the maids' gossip, and from the lady Saeryn just now--that Scyrr was grievously injured by a local man, who then rode away. Given the madness that seemed to be going on out of doors, I thought a few more stabilizing presences might be necessary. Also, I believe Saeryn has some additional information concerning the man who ran away."

Truth be told, however, much of the madness had tempered itself--or else moved elsewhere, if Athanar had indeed sent out a search party. "How long and how far are your men pursuing the runagate? Is there aught the household should do to make things run more smoothly?"

[Durelin]

Fearghall looked at the boy flatly. "You are a schemer, aren't ya." He looked between the two others. "I'm guessing this was his idea, too?"

He sighed. "Trouble is just what you deserve to get in, boy. And if it's chores you're escapin', well, I can think of plenty more I'd like done myself! The men don't keep the barracks clean enough for my liking, you see..." He laughed a little. They would have to go back home at some point.

The Captain may not have any patience for children, since he had yet to settle down with a good woman even, much less bring anyone into the world -- a shame, too, Faerghall thought -- but he didn't think he had much more patience for these boys either.

Faerghall stretched a little and mounted his horse again with a groan. "Well," he began idly, "I think I'll meander back towards the hall. I've got some chores to attend to myself," he said with a chuckle and a sidelong look to the boys. He had one of their names at least...all he had to do was find a woman looking for her no-good son to get him to go chop some wood or some such...

[Thinlómien]

Unfortunately, all the men seemed to be doing something important. No bier-carriers for Wilheard, it seemed. If you want something to be done, do it yourself. Yes, yes. Uncle Fréathain's immortal piece of advice, something he and Wulf had always laughed at: his serious tone of voice when he kept repeating it and how he, a respected officer, lived by it himself. Will could remember him doing all kinds of funny stuff, like emptying containers in outhouses and fixing his own saddle.

Now it seemed like a useful piece of advice, and definitely not so funny anymore. He assessed the situation quickly: the Dunlending woman had just appeared with the bier. If he wanted to go somewhere to find a man to carry the bier with him, he would have to leave quick. But he should actually have left already. Now the serving woman and the healer - and worst of all, Scyrr - would think him a total idiot, after all he had just stood on the yard lazily for the past few minutes. He cursed in his head. Why didn't he ever learn? He functioned much better with animals than people.

"You, woman, help me lift Scyrr to this bier. Then we carry him to your healer's place. Healerwoman, see that we don't bump him into anything."

Now Wilheard felt even more stupid. That was probably the stupidest order he had even given, it even sounded so silly! He was grateful Wulfric wasn't here to see this - he was supposed to laugh at his brother, not the other way around. But there was no way taking back the order once it was given.

The women obeyed quickly and once Will and the dark woman left the bier Will was surprised - the sturdy woman was much stronger than she looked. Spent too little time with serving women, he thought sourly and then grinned at his own jest. Anyway, he hoped as few people as possible would pay attention to this humiliating operation. "Is it far?" he barked.

~*~

"Just around the corner, sir," Modtryth replied. She was surprised by the straightforward and down-to-earth manner of this young lord, carrying the bier with a womanservant. Not maybe as far from Lord Eodwine as I first thought... she mused.

She had figured the Lord's sons were just like so many other self-important young nobles and she had seen that side of them - all the carelessness and cruelty, but it amused her how much they actually reminded her of her own son and his two friends. Well, they are not that much older! she thought, and then wondered if she was becoming old herself. More a mother than a maid anyway, I should know that...

They arrived at Aedhel's temporary healer's quarters and lay Scyrr on one of the sickbeds.
"I shall look after him now, my lord," Aedhel said in her calm and pleasant voice.
"Good," the young man replied and with a quick glance at the wounded soldier, quit the room abruptly.

Helpless laughter rose in Modtryth and she sat down and let it all pour out. Aedhel gave her an odd look.
"What is it, Modtryth?" she asked quietly.
Modtryth shook her head. "Nothing. I mean... this day has been just absurd, everything is absurd. Everything has changed."
Aedhel nodded. "But hopefully not only for the worst."
"Yes," said Modtryth. She could not think of anything better to say. "Look for me if you need help with him. I will visit every now and then."
"Thank you."
"That's nothing. I'll go now. By the looks of it, there's a lot of stuff going on where I might be needed. And people tend to forget that the household has to be run even on days like this. Ginna and I were supposed to do the laundry today!"

With those words, she hurried off. Ginna would be at the kitchens, by Kara's side. Well, now Kara should be left for Frodides brusque words and warm heart, that would probably be for the best. Modtryth didn't make it to the kitchens yet when her keen eyes spotted Leodern sulking by Harreld's smithy. She had better find out what was going on.

"What's up, little one?" Modtryth asked and picked the girl in her arms. Leodern was no baby anymore, but Modtryth secretly liked treating her like one - she was such a sweet and pretty child.

Leodern his her small face in her hair. "Garmund and Cnebba didn't listen to me. And Javan called me ninny."
"I'll see to Javan hearing of it later. It was wrong of him to say that." Modtryth let out a small sigh - but of course a 13-year-old boy would think a 5-year-old girl a ninny. He just should have enough brains not to say it aloud. Modtryth was more concerned about the second part of Leodern's worries, though. "And what did you say when Garmund and Cnebba didn't listen to you?" she asked, although with a sinking feeling she thought she knew what it was about.
"They didn't listen to me when I said you..." she stopped abruptly.
"Told them to stay in sight of the house and out of trouble, yes," Modtryth finished. Don't the boys ever grow up... at all?

"Now you, my lady, shall come with me to the kitchen and you shall eat apples with Ginna while I find a few tricksters I'd gladly have a word with. Then later today you may come do laundry with us - but no splashing or dangerous experimenting with the hot water this time!"

Leodern's eyes lit up. If the months in Scarburg had made Modtryth her loving mother, Ginna, whom she still called "princess" every now and then, had become her much admired big sister and Modtryth knew the little girl just loved doing the laundry. She would make such a perfect maid some day, Modtryth thought wryly.

[Folwren]

Thornden shot a sidelong glance at Athanar. He felt his muscles tense in response to the flash of anger that Athanar showed. Although he had seen it more than once in the last two days, he could not get used to the show of fierceness, however brief, in this new eorl. Thornden hoped that he did not become truly angry and decide to do something more drastic than raise his voice. He thought about the soldiers outside, and lord Faramund’s soldiers. Surely, lord Athanar would not become so furious himself that the men would actually be called to fight…or surely he would not provoke lord Faramund to that point.

Thornden looked again at Faramund. He knew that his fuse was short, and pushed too far he could become violent. He had seen it before. When he and the other two lords had come to Scarburg, Faramund had threatened to draw sword in the hall. Only the presence of lord Tancred had kept Faramund under control. Now it the situation was even more dangerous, and Thornden began to hope that Athanar would not try to lord it over him quite so much, despite his rights as the new Eorl.

[littlemanpoet]

Once lady Wynflaed's back was seen to disappear through the door, and a few more seconds passed, Falco cleared his throat.

"Seeing, my dear Lady Saeryn, as the new Lady is now gone from this dining hall, you can tell me your true mind, eh?" He glanced at the others. "And that goes for the rest of you too, I wager."

He picked up his tankard and took a pull, eyeing one after another over the wide brim. News there was, and he knew he'd have it from them soon.