Scarburg Meadhall

[littlemanpoet]

“Lean on me, Eodwine,” Saeryn said. “Do you remember when I returned to Scarburg? I was sick, too.” She smiled up at him. “You were able to heal me then. Now it is my turn to help you.”

He felt weak and was grateful of the support she was giving him. She was leading him to a two storied building that he did not remember from before.

"Hold," he said. They stopped. He looked long at his surroundings. "Much as changed," he said, "for the better."

"If you mean the hall, yes, it is a good one," Saeryn replied. "Now come, we need to get some food and drink in you. To the kitchens."

They started walking again. "Is Lord Athanar in the kitchens?"

"He will be in his rooms unless he has come down to break his fast," she said.

"Take me to him, Saeryn, first."

"You are weak. You need food and drink."

"Take me to Lord Athanar, Saeryn. Falco? Where are you? Falco!" Eodwine looked around and saw the Hobbit. "Falco! Get me my sword! I have need of it!"

"Eodwine, are you sure you want a sword? A soup ladel and ale cup might be more to your liking," the Hobbit said.

"No! My sword! I need my sword! I need to see Lord Athanar. Now!" He was shaking in Saeryn's grip, and felt weaker than ever, but was determined.

[Folwren]

Saeryn could feel Eodwine’s body tremble with the exertion that it took to walk even with her help. She laid her hand on his breast and stopped him, looking up earnestly in his face. She had pressured him once, and he said no, and his reply was the same to Falco. But she was convinced that both she and Falco were right. Formalities were all very well and good to those in health, but he was cold, tired, and hungry. This was his home. Let him go and sit in warmth and eat and then go to bed and meet Athanar later.

“Eodwine,” she said, speaking gently. “Please come in first and rest and then go and meet him. I will go to him myself after you are inside and tell him you are here and need your rest first and then you can meet him later when you are more prepared.”

Eodwine sighed. He could feel the cold sweat sliding down his face. "My dear Saeryn, I know you mean the best. This is not mere formality. Now is the only good time to do what must be done." He looked her straight in the eyes. "Do not hinder me in this!"

Saeryn nodded, but she was unhappy with the decision. It would be better now to give in than to vex him further by refusing. So she turned and went towards the hall. Half way to the door, Falco met them with Eodwine’s sword. They paused, and with help, Eodwine buckled it about his waist before going on. Hilderinc ran ahead and opened the door for them and then entered the hall ahead of them and told the gathered company that Eodwine had arrived. A moment later, Saeryn and Eodwine entered.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine looked around. It was darker inside than out. He peered into the relative gloom until his eyes adjusted.

"Hilderinc, I have a message for Lord Athanar from the king." He could hear the wavering in his own voice. It was distressing, but he was determined to see this through. "Please lead us to him."

Hilderinc nodded. "This way. Follow me."

"Saeryn," Eodwine asked, in a low voice, "is Lord Athanar right handed or left handed?"

[Folwren]

“Sareyn,” Eodwine asked, “is Athanar right-handed or left-handed?”

Saeryn’s face was a picture of consternation and confusion. Eodwine shouldn’t even be going to meet Athanar, why was he concerned which hand Athanar preferred?

“I. . .uh. . .right handed,” she said. Instead of asking why that was important now, she whispered, “You will not take long giving your message?”

They were close to Athanar now, and the eorl was coming forward to meet them and Saeryn realized they were too near for Eodwine to answer her.

[littlemanpoet]

Lord Athanar approached, a quizzical expression on his face. Eodwine and Saeryn stopped. He pulled himself from Saeryn's hold and stood shakily without assistance.

"I greet you, Lord Athanar," Eodwine said before the other could speak. "I have a message from King Eomer." He drew his sword and watched Athanar's right hand dart to his own. Before the eorl could take any further action, Eodwine dropped to one knee and crossed the hilts to his own left, and held the blade up in the palms of his hands before Athanar, whose hand slipped from his own sword hilt.

"My message from the king is this: "Athanar, I am sending Eodwine to you for your aid. He will be of some help to you. Use him well." Thus spoke Lord Eomer. For myself I say this. I offer you my sword and my aid as long as you will have me. I shall hold you as lord if and until you or the king frees me."

Athanar stood there and stared, tilting his head in consideration.

"Please take the sword, sir," Eodwine smiled. "'tis getting heavy and I am tired." His limbs and hands shook, but he was determined to hold the sword high until Athanar took it. After that, let come what may.

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar was confused to see Eodwine kneeling and making his pledge. It took him a moment to adjust himself to the situation - and he was not sure if he got it in it's entirety. He hated all the scheming of the court and the plots of the lords outwitting each other; he preferred straight talk and straight action, if possible on horseback with fresh wind in his face and his men behind him. And he thought he knew lord Eodwine was in that respect similar to him even if they weren't that alike in some other respects. But this theatrics? He was unsure what to make of it. Even if he disliked scheming he had seen enough of it to know when to be alarmed.

But seeing Eodwine shaking still feeble from his illness, and smiling at the same time cut him fast back to the here and now where he had to act.

He took the sword and returned the smile - nodding to Eodwine for him to rise up. Backing it with his words. "Please lord Eodwine, please stand up."

Looking at the effort Eodwine had to give for rising up he laid the sword on the table and offered him his other arm while Saeryn helped him up from the other side.

Facing each other now both standing Athanar laid his hand on Eodwine's shoulder looking him at the eye. "Welcome Eodwine. I do appreciate the king's decision and your offer. We have a lot to talk, not only reminiscing the days of the Great War", here he smiled at Eodwine that odd smile many war-veterans tended to give each other whether they knew each other well or not, it was the brotherhood of all those taking part in the Great War. "But we need to discuss of many things of more close history, the present and the future... later. I see you're tired now and you have many faces to greet".

Athanar took his hand away from Eodwine's shoulder and nodded towards the stairs beside the fireplace behind them. "I had a bit larger and more comfortable room to be built upstairs there where I live with my good lady Wynflaed. I thought it would be handy if we ever got important guests." He paused letting Eodwine get what he was suggesting him.

"Yes", Athanar nodded, "if you accept the offer, I suggest you and Saeryn take that room. We can have men moving both of your's belongings there. We'll still have Saeryn's present room which is a bit smaller but good enough for any guest these roofs would see the coming winter."

[Durelin]

Coen stood when Eodwine entered the hall, and gestured to the men at the table to follow suit. Those who had been in Eodwine’s service before Athanar’s rose proudly. Coen eyed Scyrr and Áforglæd, who looked a little sour, but stood and kept quiet. He caught Feargall’s eye, who gave him a knowing look. He was another steady man, good at keeping balance and order among the men, like Hilderinc. Áforglæd and Scyrr were good men and excellent soldiers, loyal to their lord, but though Scyrr was an experienced soldier, he had rough edges and at times seemed to pick up on some of the youthful hotheadedness of Áforglæd. And it seemed the two were holding on to grudges. Coen could not blame them.

Though Coen was not near, it seemed to him that Eodwine did not look like a man who had recovered his health. Perhaps he had wanted to return to his home too badly. The captain watched Eodwine approach Athanar and…kneel? As any man would offering his service. After all the stubbornness and arrogance of some of the members of the former eorl’s household, Coen had expected an equally arrogant man. Not a man who would kneel before his replacement.

Watching Athanar bring Eodwine back to his feet, Coen considered. Would this gesture silence residual contention? Or would it upset those loyal to him that he had kneeled at Athanar’s feet? At least they could not say it was at anyone’s command. Well, he supposed they could, if they wanted. He hoped this show of duty and humility would remind others of their duty and position. And he hoped that it was not simply a show.

Coen put on a light smile, trying to make a show of optimism and affability himself.

[Folwren]

Saeryn stopped short in the doorway at the sound of Athanar’s query. She turned her head and looked at him. Here was the man who caused all the controversy between her and her husband. Here was the man who took what was rightfully theirs and held it. Her tears stopped and her eyes were like ice.

“You should not have let Eodwine swear his fealty to you,” she said in a low voice. “Eodwine is rightful eorl here, even if he will not rise up and take his place. I will do what I can to ensure that he is returned to his proper place. Wait and see if I do not.”

And without waiting for response, she stepped inside her room and shut the door behind herself.

[littlemanpoet]

Ginna could see that Eodwine was not well. Neither was Saeryn, but beyond the physical. She tried to catch her eye and did so, but Saeryn quickly turned away and left. Whatever the matter was, it was clearly between husband and wife, not something to be shared with the kitchen wench.

The tension hanging in the kitchen was almost tangible. For a long while no one could say anything. This was not how Ginna imagined the women to welcome the eorl - nay, no longer the eorl, but she knew they all felt the same: Eodwine was still their lord. Perhaps that was why they did not know how to speak with him. How should they address the man who, for so long, held authority over them, but now is practically their equal?

Eodwine focused on his meal, unmindful of the women exchanging pointed glances at each other. They were all aware, however, that it would be most uncharacteristic of the cook to hold her tongue in his presence. For once Frodides seemed not at all eager for speech. But as she opened her mouth to speak, Eodwine broke the silence.

~*~

Eodwine ate and drank in silence, still shaking from the residual anger at Saeryn's words, as well as from the weakness of travel. It was not lost on him that she had turned on her heels and stormed out of the room. He sighed. It was not a good start.

For a fleeting moment he wished he were back in the House of Healing where all was quiet. He dismissed the thought. Surely there would be some way to see this through, for he and Saeryn to find harmony together.

He knew much that had happened while he had been away. Falco had told him much that he had himself been told, as well as some things that he had both heard and overheard. Eodwine was concerned for Thornden. He had not seen him yet, and wondered if all was well.

But the women were silent, which seemed most odd in Frodides, who usually spoke her mind with great alacrity and freedom. Kara was likely to make conversation and did not. Maybe they were ill at ease because he and Saeryn. He cast a glance at Ginna. She seemed more than uncomfortable. She seemed downcast. He liked to think that his coming would be greeted with more joy than that; so things maybe were not well with her.

"Ginna, tell me how it is with you. How is Harreld?"

[Folwren]

Thornden stood when Eodwine entered, but he did not approach and he watched in silence, as all present did, as Eodwine knelt and swore fealty to Athanar. He did not know immediately how to respond or react to that. He saw Athanar reach out and receive the sword and bid Eodwine rise. He partially heard the short exchange of words between them before Eodwine and Saeryn left. Then he sat down in thoughtful silence.

Eodwine would be lord no longer. Did this surprise him? No. . .not really. King Eomer had sent Athanar as a permanent replacement, and this had been clear from the very first day. Eodwine of all people would not seek to regain any place of power. Thornden knew this, and though he had never thought of it before, he now realized that of course Eodwine would offer his loyalty to the new lord. Clearly, Thornden would continue as he had done before Eodwine’s return and serve Athanar faithfully without dividing his loyalty between him and Eodwine. He would speak with Eodwine, too, and ask if there was anything he might do for him. He felt still some connection with him, and having been his steward for the entirety of his time as eorl, Thornden hoped that he would still be able to stay close to him in counsel and aid, should Eodwine need it.

He was drawn away from his thoughts by the conversation of some men down the table from him. “I did not say I expected him to try to take his old place, I just did not expect him to swear loyalty to lord Athanar, as though he were a commoner.”

“Lord Eo-,” Thornden began, leaning forward, and then stopped himself. The men turned to look towards him. “I mean, Eodwine does not pretend in anything he does. He swore loyalty to Athanar because he really does mean to be subject to him in exactly the manner he made his oath in, and he meant to show us all that there is to be no division here between his old men and those who came after him.”

“Yes, I realize that,” Quin replied. In the past month, he had become comfortable with the Old Scarburgians and spoke freely, even with Thornden. “But I just thought. . .” He paused, and his face turned a shade red. “With how some people spoke about Eodwine’s return, and how they always talked about him, and hearing how loyally you all spoke of him, I really thought he would be a stronger man.”

Thornden glanced towards the door where Eodwine had departed from, leaning on Saeryn. “He is very sick,” he said. “He left Minas Tirith probably too early for his own good. He has never been a proud man, if you think that a strength he lacks. I do not think we could love him as we do were he proud. But to be humble is not a weakness."

[Firefoot]

Falco had ridden into the hall yard well ahead of the rest of Eodwine’s party. Léof was initially alarmed, thinking that something must have gone wrong and Falco had come to get help, but almost immediately he realized that Falco had come at far too leisurely a pace for that, besides the fact that he was not calling for help.

“Greetings, Master Falco! And welcome back!” said Léof. “But where is the rest of your party? How fares Lord Eodwine?”

“And good day to you,” said Falco as he pulled to a halt and dismounted, and Léof noticed immediately that the hobbit’s voice lacked some of its normal cheer. “The rest are coming along. Eodwine… you shall see soon enough. Too stubborn to wait long enough to be truly fit for travel.”

“But we had heard that he was well!” said Léof.

“And so he will be. But it is good that the road was not longer than it was,” said Falco.

Now the rest of the party was riding up, and Léof left Falco to attend to them. All thoughts of Saeryn’s delicate situation fled his mind when he saw Eodwine, for it was eminently clear that his state of health was far more precarious than his. In dismay, he held Eodwine’s horse as Hilderinc helped him from the saddle, then took two more horses from Saeryn as she helped Eodwine inside.

Léof took the horses into the stable and unsaddled them as quickly as he could. Falco had said that Eodwine was unfit, but this seemed a massive understatement to Léof. He had looked near to falling off his horse! And him as fine a horseman as any Léof had ever met! Clearly there was more to be told. Léof put the horses away and hurried into the hall. Eodwine and Saeryn were nowhere to be seen, but Thornden and Quin were both sitting with many of the other soldiers. Just then Thornden was talking. Léof heard as he approached: “I do not think we could love him as we do were he proud. But to be humble is not a weakness.”

He sat down beside Quin where there was an opening. “What have I missed?” he asked quietly.

[Durelin]

Coenred nodded at Thornden's words, leaning over the table a little to look at him. "Agreed, Thornden. Pride has its place, but men who are quick to challenge are not strong, but brash fools." Coen was thinking of a man or two in particular, such as the men Thornden had wished to protect.

But he let his eyes pass quickly over the men, including Áforglæd and Scyrr, and back to his gruel. These men were not fools, but pride could drive a man to foolish things.

The real question was no longer about Eodwine, as it never had been. It was about those people whose loyalty and pride -- or proud loyalty -- would be tested all over again. Coen desperately wanted to ask what Thornden thought of Eodwine's oath, and how he thought it would be received by those people he felt a particular loyalty and responsibility to, like a secondary lord. But he would not in front of the men. He had no intention of helping any renewed division along.

[Folwren]

“Agreed, Thornden. Pride has its place, but men who are quick to challenge are not strong, but brash fools.”

Thornden looked swiftly at Coenred, his eyes sharp for a second, but Coenred did not follow his comment up with anything more, and he did not meet Thornden’s eye for more than a second. His glance was not challenging, more curious than anything.

Thornden considered Coenred silently for some second. Since the incident with Erbrand and Lithor, he and the captain had not been in close fellowship. There had been a rift driven between them that he had been unable to remove. The fault was his, he knew, but he wished Coenred would at least speak to him, instead of holding his thoughts in silence.

While he thought thus, Quin was answering Leof’s question.

“Your old eorl, Eodwine, just came in, and the first thing he did was go to Athanar, kneel before him, and offer him his sword while swearing loyalty to him! And he, looking half dead at that! We were just now discussing it. . .he is not well, you know. So ill he went out leaning upon lady Saeryn as though he were an old man. I mean no disrespect, Thornden,” he added, turning again to him. Thornden looked over at him. “That is just how he was.”

Thornden shrugged and stood up. He moved over to Coenred and sat down across from him. The men about them were speaking, leaning closer to discuss things more thoroughly with Quin and Leof, and Thornden bent across the table towards Coenred.

“What are you thinking, Coenred? You seem to wonder about Eodwine’s manner of return as much as Quin, but in your older wisdom, you keep silent.”

[Firefoot]

Scyld had crowded around with the rest of the Scarburgians at the arrival of the old eorl. Not for the first time in the last month, he found himself peculiarly moved by the loyalty Eodwine’s former household continued to show to him. It was the same sort of attitude that had driven Scyld to seek out these people in the first place – an attitude of selflessness, loyalty… love.

He still did not understand it.

Scyld’s loyalty was to himself – to seeing himself well-provided for, in the best position possible should events turn awry. He was a survivor – and his survival had more than once depended on him looking out for himself, because no one else would. Yet here were all these people, still showing such loyalty to a lord who could no longer serve them as a lord must. Making things harder for themselves by not simply accepting the rule of the new lord, no matter how different he might be from the old. Once, Scyld would have said that one master was just the same as another, but now he was not so sure.

Having lived and worked under both Sorn and Eodwine, he could hardly compare the two. He did not trust Eodwine, because Scyld still feared that if his history were found out he might be sent to the gallows. And if he did not trust Eodwine, he certainly did not trust Athanar and his heavy-handed sense of justice. However, he could not deny the air of freedom and camaraderie shared by those living in Scarburg – something he had never believed could really exist.

That being said, Athanar was no Sorn, and since those first couple of eventful days, Scyld could not really said that the hall fared any worse under Athanar than it had under Eodwine. So in that sense, a change in lord was not so great a hardship.

Still, he could not help but be curious to see how the meeting of the old and the new eorls would play out. Eodwine entered the hall, followed by Saeryn and the hobbit Falco. But then one came whom he was not expecting – Rowenna.

He was startled by his own reaction to seeing her: he felt like his heart was hammering in his throat. Could it be that he had actually missed her? She was certainly interesting, more interesting to him than most of the people in the hall. Like him, she was a survivor – ambitious, and ruthless, perhaps. Not just a little pretty, to sweeten the deal… but vicious. Scyld suddenly recalled his last significant interaction with her had ended in her smacking him across the face.

He realized that he was staring and forced his attention back to Eodwine. Of all the absurd things to be thinking of – a woman! It seemed that all this time he had been spending pretending to be Nydfara was finally getting to his head. Next thing he’d be fluttering and sighing (or crying, as had been the case lately) over the hall romances like the kitchen girls.

He had pulled himself from his reverie just in time to catch Eodwine swearing his fealty to Athanar. Now there was an unexpected turn. He would be interested to hear what the others thought of that. As was his habit, he faded into the background to watch and listen.

[Lhunardawen]

Frodides looked briefly at Ginna, and then turned back to Eodwine saying, "All right, I can spare her. But bring her back before noon, and in one piece."

"Of course," he replied with a laugh, rising slowly from his seat. Ginna proceeded to walk towards him but stopped and, after a moment's hesitation, took off her apron. As she reckoned that Eodwine would speak with her as Randvér's daughter and not as a servant of the hall, it seemed to her fitting. She wrapped herself warmly before following his lead out the back door.

She thought Eodwine meant to sit nearby to get the air he needed, but he had other plans. He kept on walking farther from the hall, looking around with interest, taking in all the changes, breathing again the air of Scarburg after a long time of absence. He seemed to her at ease despite the evidence that life in the mead hall had continued without him, and that he now returned to it as one of different standing. Ginna, on the other hand, was uncomfortable with his silence. She shivered in the winter chill, realising how long it was since she had left the warmth and familiarity of the kitchen.

"E- Eodwine," she finally said, not without discomfort at omitting his former title, "I am aware that I have not answered your first question earlier. I do not want to add to your problems, even something as-- as trivial as mine, but you have mentioned your duty to my father and I know you would insist." She paused, feeling his gaze on her, and met his eyes. "Not all has been well with me these past weeks."

[littlemanpoet]

It was good to get out in the fresh air. He walked slowly away from the Hall, and Ginna walked with him. He liked what he saw. They had done well in his absence. He would have expected nothing else.

He did not immediately bring them around to his earlier question. It was not that he wanted to put Ginna off. Rather, he was at ease. The young woman was his friend's daughter, but he appreciated her for who she was. He was beginning to prepare his words to her when she spoke. He was glad that she observed his request not to use the old title. He smiled sadly as she gave herself short shrift to him.

"Not all has been well with me these past weeks."

By which she meant that not all was well between her and Harreld. He had thought so.

"I am sorry, Ginna. Has the return of Garreth distracted Harreld from his pledgetroth to you?" She shook her head. "No?" She looked up at him, her face so sad. "Has Harreld said or done something to hurt you?"

[Folwren]

Rowenna's brow knitted. It was unlike Eodwine to treat anyone unfairly or ungraciously. She did not know what to say. The last thing she wanted to do now was to agree with one of them against the other. "Saeryn," she said tentatively, "I am grateful to both of you for the kindness you have shown me. If your cause is truly just, does he need persuading from me? What is the matter you do not agree on?"

"His status here," Saeryn replied. "He was set as eorl by the king. When he left, Athanar came and took his place, but I believe that now he has returned, he should retake what is rightfully his. But he does not see it that way."

Rowenna placed her hand on Saeryn's hand gripping the quilt. "He did not tell Falco and me that he was going to kneel before Athanar. I was as surprised as you. One thing is clear, though. It was his first deed when he back back. So he must have it close to his heart that he will not be eorl." Suddenly it dawned on Rowenna. "And it is close to your heart that he should be eorl. But you said that he treated you unfairly. Was that be kneeling before Athanar?"

"No," Saeryn said. Her hand trembled beneath Rewenna's, and she had to work on holding back tears. "He would not listen to me from the very beginning. Yes, this must've have been close to his heart, because he would not even come in and eat when I urged him at first." Her words were so scattered that she found it difficult to keep track of them herself. "But that's not even what I'm talking about. He called me willful before Frodides and the other women in the kitchen." She stopped and she had trouble drawing a breath. Her eyes stung and she couldn't speak, so many emotions were hitting her at once. "And I swear, though I am not certain, he was about to strike me." Until this moment it had not quite occurred to her how much she felt that. But he so rarely was angry with anyone that she could not help but feel it.

"Oh, Saeryn! Are you sure?" It was hard for Rowenna to imagine Eodwine even coming close to striking any one, especially a woman. She doubted that it was something Saeryn dreamed up, but it seemed so out of his character. She had been struck over and over among the brigands, and had come to expect it; she realized now that it had been one of the things that had most hardened and embittered her. It would have truly scared Saeryn, to see in her husband even the possibility for something so ugly. "How did it happen?"

Saeryn stared straight ahead for a moment, unable to say a word for fear of crying. She tried too soon and broke into tears as soon as she began. "I guess I pushed him to his limits. I may have been slightly aware that I was testing him, I don't know! But then, when I went in and told the ladies that he had returned, and I called him their eorl...that's when it happened."

Rowenna closed her eyes tight and winced. "Oh no." She opened her eyes again and looked at Saeryn in sympathy. After Eodwine's deed before Athanar, calling him their eorl would have been like Saeryn slapping him in the face. "Oh Saeryn, I'm sorry."

She was at a loss for words. They had both hurt each other. "Maybe you should talk to each other."

"I've tried talking to him, but he doesn't listen. It's as though he were actually happy with how things are. He doesn't seem to realize that he has been robbed of his eorldom. Do you have any idea what it will be like to be the wife of the man who should be eorl, but see another in his place every day?" She turned bleary eyes to Rowenna. "Have you any idea?"

"No, my dear, but I do know what it is like to want to be the eorl's wife and have that dream dashed in a moment." Saeryn looked up at her in sudden startlement. "No," Rowenna said, shaking her head and smiling, "I do not grudge you at all. You and Eodwine love each other, and I am happy for you. Why do you want Eodwine to have the eorldom back?"

"Because it's his!" Saeryn replied vehemently. She stood up and paced the room. "Athanar has no right to take Eodwine's place here. Perhaps it would have been one thing, if Eodwine had done something to deserve the king's displeasure, but he has not. He got ill, and they did not expect him to get better - well and good - but now he is back. And Athanar still sits in his seat." She stopped and looked Rowenna square in the eye. "Don't you see anything wrong with that? Or am I just making trouble over nothing?" She paused again, and before Rowenna could reply, she went on. "No. Perhaps you, and perhaps Eodwine, think that I am just greedy, and married him for his status. Well, that's not it. I love Eodwine," her voice broke with tears, but she went on, "And I would have married him had he been a servant of another eorl, but he's not, and he should never have to be."

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna had had two years to watch and influence the disagreements and the pride of brigands. None of that had prepared her for this. Saeryn felt that she was looking out for Eodwine's best interests, and Eodwine seemed to have a different view on the matter.

"Saeryn, dear, what does Eodwine want?"

[Folwren]

Saeryn looked at her as though the question had never crossed her mind. "What does he want?" she repeated. "I don't know what he wants, but I don't think we'll get a chance to see. He will do whatever he thinks is right. And he obviously thinks that it is right to obey the king without question. I just want him to see that it's not right."

She paused, frustrated with her own thoughts. "I respect the king, and I respect his decisions, but he has made an error this time. Apparently nobody except me sees that." She turned and sat down again. "Do you think I am wrong, too?"

[Lhunardawen]

"Has Harreld said or done something to hurt you?"

Ginna shook her head again. "It would be unfair to lay the blame on him. He only wanted me - wanted us - to obey my father's will."

Eodwine gave her a quizzical look, his attention on her as though all else around was forgotten.

"My father sent me a letter a moon ago, telling of his favour for Thornden over Harreld." She stopped herself from saying that Harreld also read the letter without her knowledge. She did not want to cast a bad light on him before the former eorl, and it no longer mattered. "I tried to convince Harreld to set aside my father's wishes - that was all it was to me - but he would not. I asked him to help me change his mind, but he was unwilling."

[Firefoot]

“So, what do you think? You’ve been with Eodwine for a long time, and I imagine your reaction will reflect those of the others, too. Were you expecting this?” Quin asked.

I expected that if Eodwine came back, Athanar would leave. If it had been just Quin he was talking to, Léof might have said it. But not to so many newcomers. Not to Nydfara. The atmosphere of the hall was too charged with tension, and Léof did not wish to accidentally start a fight. “I don’t know that you could say I’ve been with Eodwine ‘a long time,’” Léof hedged. “Less than a year. And I knew him less well than some of the others. But no, I did not expect this, nor did the idea ever occur to me. I doubt anyone else really expected it, either.”

“Then perhaps none of you knew your lord so well as you thought,” suggested Nydfara, joining the conversation for the first time.

Léof scowled at him. “Well enough,” he said. “Are you saying that you did expect it?”

“I made no such claim,” replied Nydfara lightly. “Though I do not find it unreasonable of him, if forestalling division was his goal. A hall cannot have two lords.”

“Well, no, but –” But what? Léof realized he didn’t really have a reply to that statement. Hadn’t he been trying to avoid an argument? “I didn’t say Eodwine did wrongly,” said Léof, still irritated but trying not to let it show. “Just that I wasn’t expecting it.”

~*~*~

Scyld inclined his head, allowing the young stablemaster to have the point (unless someone else wished to take it up, of course). He did not wish to appear to be a trouble-maker, after all, or a picker of needless quarrels. He also knew that there were some of Athanar’s soldiers who would agree with his words; he had seen a couple of nodding heads when he spoke. One could never have too many allies.

[Folwren]

Quin rubbed his chin and listened to the other two young men speaking. He had spent enough time with Leof to know his association with Eodwine, but he did not know Nydfara well. He did not know if Nydfara knew Eodwine any less than Leof knew him, but Quin did pick up a little bit of defensiveness in Leof’s voice when Nydfara spoke. He guessed that Leof thought he should know Eodwine better than Nydfara – perhaps he had been part of Eodwine’s household before him.

Once Nydfara subsided, Quin again addressed Leof. “I don’t think anyone thought you were saying Eodwine did wrong. I guess I am curious to know what you did expect.”

[Firefoot]

“I guess I am curious to know what you did expect.”

Drat Quin’s persistence! The very question Léof had been trying to sidestep. No way to avoid it now though. So he said, “I didn’t think about it all that hard, but I guess I thought that Athanar would leave.”

[littlemanpoet]

"Perhaps you," said Saeryn, "and perhaps Eodwine, think that I am just greedy, and married him for his status. Well, that's not it. I love Eodwine," her voice broke with tears. "And I would have married him had he been a servant of another eorl, but he's not, and he should never have to be."

Saeryn lapsed into silence and saw to her tears. Rowenna's thought ran fast and in ways she was ashamed of, but old habits were hard to break: how could she use this to her own benefit? No. That would be unfair to Saeryn. Rowenna was here for Saeryn, to help her during the months left while she was with child. Unless she could use it to the benefit of both of them? What about Eodwine? He was a good man and she liked him. How could she use this for his benefit also? Find a way to make him eorl? But she knew that he did not want that. Or did she know that? Maybe he really was diong what he felt was right and was his duty, and would want to be eorl if he thought it possible? The best thing would be to sound him out. But what about Saeryn right now, who had begun to watch her eyes as her thought raced.

"Saeryn, dear, do you really think the king is wrong? Might he be persuaded of it?"

[littlemanpoet]

"I asked him to help me change his mind, but he was unwilling," Ginna answered.

Eodwine studied Ginna. He waited a moment to see if she would say more. She was putting a brave face on a very difficult matter, one that pained her deeply. He could see that much.

"Did he say why, Ginna?"

[Folwren]

Saeryn

“Do you reall think the king is wrong? Might he be persuaded of it?”

Saeryn lifted her head and looked at her. “Of course the king is wrong,” she said. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I do not mean to be disrespectful, but that is how it is. And. . .I don’t know. . .maybe he could be persuaded of it, but what do you want me to do? Ride to Edoras and inform King Eomer that he is mistaken and must put Eodwine back in his seat as eorl? If Eodwine was angry about me announcing his arrival as eorl to the women in the kitchen, he would be even more angry about me going to court. I have to convince Eodwine of what is right before I try to convince the king.

--

Quin

“I didn’t think about it all that hard, but I guess I thought that Athanar would leave.”

Quin put his cup down on the table with a clump and stared at Leof. Some of the other men had the same reaction, but not all of their glances were quite as devoid of suspicion and anger as Quin’s look.

“You really mean that,” Quin marveled. “You really thought that he might go?”

“Impudence,” muttered Scyrr. “After all lord Athanar has done for you…”

Quin frowned, but did not ask Scyrr to keep quiet. He kept his eyes on Leof, and he realized how uncomfortable he had become admitting what he’d just said. Quin regretted pressing the issue, but it was too late now. He had more questions he would like to ask Leof, but later would have to suffice. To press for more thoughts now on the matter would probably only make the other men angrier with Leof, and that would not do.

“I. . .I think I need to get to work, or something,” he said lamely. Surely, there was work to be done. They had tarried longer than usual at the breakfast table this morning. He got up and walked away.

[Durelin]

Coen’s eyebrows rose. Eodwine would ‘restore order?’ What did Thornden mean by that? While Eodwine seemingly let go of his former position willingly, or at least accepted the king’s decisions without grudge, these people would not let his power go.

“Lord Athanar will keep order in this hall, and I am sure Eodwine will not do anything to disrupt that order.”

He stood and looked at the rest of the men at the table just after Quin left. The young man had the right idea. “You’ve all lingered enough at table. Those of you who have duties this morning better get to them.” Coen then left the hall, planning to check to see if Athanar had need of him before making his rounds to see that the men were at their duties or appropriately occupied.

Not all of them had work to do this morning or posts to be at, though he did his best to keep their hands busy. There was always labor about the hall they could help with, especially since some building was still in progress. But this morning, even just breaking them up from sitting all together at the table might keep things a little quieter… With all those men together and recent events on their minds and tongues, he did not want to return to those first days at the hall.

[Firefoot]

As the discussion over the breakfast table broke up at Coenred's bidding, Scyld also excused himself from the table. He paid little attention to the interplay between Scyrr and Léof – Scyld already knew Scyrr to be a troublemaker and Léof to be over-sensitive. An amusing combination, really, but Scyld was more interested now in the reactions of those he knew less well.

Much of the hall was nearing completion, but still some projects remained. Scyld knew that several of the soldiers would be outside working on the shelter for the sheep pen, so he too headed in that direction. What might the soldiers be saying out of earshot of the original Scarburgians and the authorities? Of course, Scyld himself came originally from Eodwine's household, but he had shown himself sympathetic to the new soldiers. Scyld had learned early on that it was best not to take sides before it was clear which side would win out.

The air outside was brisk and cold; though the sun was shining, it gave off little heat so late in the year. Once he began working, though, Scyld knew he would warm up. He wasn't sure what he would do once the hall was finished. Sorn seemed scarcely remembered here, not even a year after Eodwine's household had moved in. He scarcely knew what he was doing now. Prying, information gathering – but for what? The stakes were hardly so high now as they once had been. He shrugged off that dismal train of thought as he approached the half-finished sheep pen. One could never know too little.

Several soldiers were just beginning work as he arrived: Hilderinc, Aforglaed, Quin, and Hylath. “Good morning,” he said as he walked up, though he had already seen a couple of them at breakfast. The soldiers greeted him in return, and Scyld fell into work beside them. After a few minutes, he found himself standing next to young Quin. Judging from breakfast, Scyld thought he might be the easiest to get talking. “Bit of a shocker what Léof said about Athanar leaving, wasn't it?” he asked.

[Firefoot]

The sun cast long shadows across the hall grounds as Scyld and the other men made their way back from the fields where the sheep pen stood well on its way to completion. He was tired and very hungry, and he thought eagerly of the feast that had been promised for Eodwine's return. His mouth watered at the scents that wafted out from the kitchen as they drew near – a faint fruity aroma underlaid the stronger smells of fresh bread and – best of all – fresh beef.

He hadn't even realized how chilled he had gotten working outside all day until he pushed open the door to the hall and stepped inside. Then the warmth enveloped him and suddenly he felt cold to the bone. He sank gratefully to a seat at a table near the fireplace and felt his limbs begin to thaw.

The women had begun bringing out the food, and the various residents of the hall were all trickling in from wherever they had been, the tasks of the day put aside in favor of the coming celebration. He noted each as they arrived, out of habit rather more than anything else. There was Athanar and his family, taking their accustomed seats. Léof, in from the stables, who seemed unsure of where he ought to sit down (or rather, who he ought to sit down with). Falco, who would no doubt eat as much as any soldier there – Scyld would have to ask him sometime if all halflings were such hearty eaters. Rowenna...

His mental checklist stuttered to a halt. One of the soldiers sitting near him followed his gaze and grinned. “That's a fine looking woman, there,” he said. Scyld glanced at him and recognized him as Aldric, the same soldier who had made the jest about Saeryn at the breakfast table.

Scyld shrugged as if to say, A little. “What of it?”

Aldric looked at him as if he were mad. “What of it? Why, she's even prettier than the Lady Saeryn... and the kitchen maid Ginna too. The prettiest woman in the hall! And not otherwise spoken for, unlike them.”

A queer emotion threatened to bubble up inside Scyld, but he pushed it away and instead merely raised an eyebrow at the other man. “So you think you have a chance with her?”

“Why not?” Aldric was watching Rowenna, and so did not see Scyld smirking with an unsaid reply: Because you don't know the half of what's coming if you approach her.

[Folwren]

When Quin came back into the hall for the grand meal, his thoughts reverted to the discussion at breakfast and the talk that had followed out at the sheep pen. The people would again see how Eodwine and Athanar interacted, and perhaps after tonight everyone would know better what to think of Eodwine’s presence. He knew that he and other soldiers thought that Athanar should stay, but he wondered still if those who had been used to Eodwine as their eorl would think differently. He wanted to ask Léof again, but that had gone badly this morning, and now he did not even know if Léof would speak to him.

He looked about, hoping to catch sight of Léof. He spotted him seated on the end of the workmen’s table near Stigend and Garstan. Quin went towards him and stopped by his side.

“I hope you are not angry with what happened this morning. I meant no mischief.”

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna was helping Ginna and the others serving the food. This had been her charge before she had left, and she fell back into it with ease; Ginna and the others appreciated the extra hands, especially as she knew her way around the pantries, not to mention the habits of Frodides. Eodwine and Saeryn had not come in yet. She supposed Athanar had special plans. He did seem to be one for the grand gesture, as if he were especially aware of how his actions affected how his folk viewed him.

She watched the men come in the Hall from their work. They brought the cold in with them, and visibly relaxed into the warmth of the room. The fire in the hearth had been built high this night, for the air was even colder than most nights. There was Garreth, and even Harreld who had apparently been pressed to join them though it was not his way of late, she was told. Poor Ginna. Rowenna had not heard too much, but things were not as they should be between them, and Harreld needed a good talking to. But Rowenna knew better than to charge in where not asked.

There was Nydfara. She schooled herself not to change her manner even if her heart would not behave. Why did it start beating faster just because she noticed him in the room? How frustrating. She suffered him not a glance as she brought out a large tray with a half dozen tankards of mead. What was this? One of the men sauntered up the aisle toward her, a haughty half grin on his face, looking directly at her. Oh. One of these. Yes, he was coming toward her with an air as if he believed himself to be the answer in man's form for all the questions a woman had. She forced herself not to roll her eyes. He stopped right in front of her, his eyes half closed, with the confident smile of a rogue. She raised an eyebrow.

"I am Aldric. Are you offering drinks?" he asked.

"I bring them to table," she replied.

"Why thank you, I'll take one. How could I resist the offer of such a pretty little thing as you?" He took one of the six off her tray, winking at his double meaning as if he were the cleverest womanizer in all Rohan. She caught the tray with her other hand before the other five drinks could do more than slosh in their tankards.

"I made you no offer."

"Ah, but you wanted to. I could see it in your eyes."

Rowenna groaned inside. He was not bad looking, but his manner grated and bespoke a character beneath her. "You misread my eyes."

"Oho! You play hard to get. I know how it goes. I am not so easily put off. Come sit at my table tonight so we can get acquainted, and," he paused meaningfully, "see how things go from there."

"They'll not go anywhere. Not with the likes of you."

He raised his brow. "You do not know me. I am the best horseman in Scarburg, and am among the best with a sword or spear. My aim never fails of its target." He lifted his free hand to the hair on her shoulder and played it between his fingers. "Once I set my eye on a target, I will hit the bullseye. Maybe not the first time, but I always do, with practice, if you know what I mean." He winked.

She forced her lip not to curl in disgust. "Your prowess in marksmanship may be all that you say, but you miss the mark with me." With a twitch of her head she yanked her hair out of his grasp. "And always will. Let me by, please."

"Are you spoken for then?"

"No, I am not. But I speak for myself, and I say that you do not interest me. Let me by. I have tables to serve."

He frowned a moment but recovered and smiled. "Now now, that is no way to talk. You are the prettiest lass here. Sit with me at table."

"I'd sooner sit at table with a toad than you. Out of my way."

He stepped partly out of her path and she brushed by him, glad the conversation was over. She did not see Aldric's evil look at her back. She did look involuntarily at Nydfara, who appeared to be watching Aldric with a smirk. He glanced toward her. The smirk left his face, and he looked away almost as quickly as she did. She found a table far from him, set the tray down, and returned to the kitchen for more. The evening had better start going better, she thought to herself, or she would be returning to the Folde as soon as was possible.

[Firefoot]

As hesitant as Léof had been to offer his real opinion, he was still unprepared for the looks of astonishment and hostility that instantly sprang to the faces of every soldier at the table. It hadn’t been that outlandish of an idea. And he hadn’t said that he wanted Athanar to leave, only that he thought he would. Evidently it was much the same thing in the eyes of the soldiers.

“You really mean that,” Quin marveled. “You really thought that he might go?” Léof mentally pleaded for Quin to understand. If Quin couldn’t, there was no way any of the others would.

“Impudence,” muttered Scyrr. “After all lord Athanar has done for you…”

Suddenly Léof was furious. After all Athanar had done for him? What exactly did Scyrr think Athanar had done for him? Allowed him to keep a position he had long since earned? A position which hardly any of Athanar’s men seemed to take seriously, even though their presence here had probably doubled the amount of work he had to do? He was treated like a boy, like a joke, and what did Athanar do about it? Eodwine had treated him with respect! Everyone in Eodwine’s household did! Was it any wonder that he might wish for Athanar to leave? For things to go back to the way they were?

He was just about to open his mouth with a heated and very poorly thought-out reply when Coenred interrupted the conversation by saying, “You’ve all lingered enough at table. Those of you who have duties this morning better get to them.” Most of the soldiers then got up and left, ignoring Léof or shooting him one last look of disbelief. As Scyrr got up, he left Léof with one last comment: “You’d better watch your tongue, stableboy. It might get you into trouble.”

Stableboy! Léof shot to his feet, fists clenched and jaw tight. If he’d dared, he would have taken Scyrr on right then and there, but Léof still held it in his mind that Scyrr was several inches taller, quite a bit heavier, and a trained soldier to boot. He wouldn’t stand a chance. So instead he stalked off towards the stables without a word, walking as quickly as he could without running. He thought he heard Thornden call his name, but Léof ignored him. He didn’t know what it was he was planning to do but it was plain that he had to do something. Get out of here for a while.

Upon reaching the stable he jerked Æthel out of her stall and tied her in the aisle. She stamped and tossed her head nervously, but Léof heedlessly left her to fetch her tack. His mind was filled with the things he could do to get back at Scyrr and the other soldiers who had treated him so badly. Put stinging nettle in their bedrolls. Hide their weapons. Damage their weapons. Put their horses out to pasture just before they’d be needed. Injure their horses so they couldn’t ride.

Wait – injure their horses? What was he thinking? Suddenly his legs felt weak and he sat down heavily on the floor in the tack room, bridle clenched in one hand. He was shaking all over. Injure their horses? Léof drew in a ragged breath. And to think he’d been about to take Æthel out riding in this mood! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless, this out of control –

In a moment he would go back out and put Æthel back in her stall, but just yet he didn’t want to do anything. Didn’t want to think about how close he’d come to totally losing it. To putting Æthel in danger with his recklessness. He couldn’t afford to lose his head so completely. The potential results… he couldn’t bear to think of them.

[Folwren]

Thornden had not heard what Léof said. Ceonred had spoken at that moment. But he instantly felt the change in the attitude around the table, and it wasn’t from what Coenred said.

In fact, Coenred’s reply had once more taken Thornden aback. Not that his words had anything to disagree with, more that he regretted a misunderstanding, however small, to have sprung from something he said. He had not meant that Athanar would not be able to keep control of his hall. He had merely meant that if some of Eodwine’s old followers had attempted to put Eodwine in his old place, Eodwine would have declined the offer firmly, and thereby stopped any uprising before it even began. No one would force Eodwine into a position he did not want.

But these thoughts and explanations had to go unsaid, for Coenred stood up immediately and ordered everyone to their daily business. Most of the men got up immediately and walked away. Thornden rose, too, but paused a moment, intending to ask one of the soldiers about the condition of the weapons in the weaponry. Before he addressed him, he saw Scyrr rise and turn towards Léof.

“You’d better watch your tongue, stableboy. It might get you into trouble.”

Thornden turned to look just as Léof leapt to his feet, a look of insult and fury clear on his face, and Thornden truly feared that he would assault Scyrr that instant. But he did not. Instead, he stormed out, heading no doubt for the stables.

“Léof, wait a moment!” Thornden called. But he did not wait. Perhaps he did not hear. “What did he say?” he asked, aloud, turning back around.

“Something about lord Athanar,” the soldier replied. “I don’t know, I didn’t hear. They were talking about Eodwine’s return and how he greeted Athanar.”

Thornden nodded. The two of them quickly discussed the weapons and decided that they could check and put them in order that morning, and then Thornden hurried out to see if he could find Léof.

Ӕthel was tied in the stable aisle, but she was unsaddled. She looked over at Thornden when he entered and whinnied softly. Thornden walked passed her, stroking her gently as he went by. He went to the tack room and stopped in the doorway. Léof sat in the middle of the floor, staring off into space and looking as though he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.

“What’s the matter, Léof?” he asked.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine saw the pleading in Ginna's eyes, and the blush come to her cheeks just before she turned away.

"Lilla would be her age had she not been killed in the war," he thought. Maybe she was Randver's daughter, but his heart wne out to her as if she were his own. He guessed what she hoped for from him.

The soldiers were emptying from the Hall, breakfast finished. There was Léof hurrying to the stables. "I should greet him."

"Ginna, I can talk with Harreld, if you like, see what this wall is that he thinks is in the way."

Her head rose but she turned only so that he saw her profile.

[Folwren]

Thornden studied Léof carefully for several seconds. He heard what Léof said, but he also felt he knew more of what lay at the heart of Léof's frustration and anger. To address the words alone would do little good, but if he could speak directly to what was at the core, then perhaps something would be accomplished.

“Léof,” Thornden said quietly. He looked down at his boots a moment, considering his words carefully. What he was about to say was something his father had told him years ago, but he had never had to repeat it to anyone. He wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but he gave it his best attempt. “A man is not what other men think of him, but what he does and how he thinks and speaks. He may let other men’s opinion of him have an affect on how he acts, but it is not the other’s opinion that really makes him who he is.

“How you respond to the men is what will define you. They may act as though they were better than we who have been here before, but are they? If any one of us answers to their words or actions, whatever they may be, as though we believed we are less than they, then we become so. But if we do not respond – if we stay steady, knowing exactly who we are and what we’re here for – then we cannot be less than them.”

He paused, giving his words time to sink in, before he finished. “If you truly think you ought to be treated like a man, then act the way you think a man should act. Perhaps you are angry at them because you are not yet certain of your manhood yourself.”

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna stood and went over to the door, bent down, and peered through the keyhole for long moments. Finally she stood back up, sighed, and came back to Saeryn.

"Well, at least they haven't stationed a guard outside your door, as far as I can tell! You really must be much more careful what you say, especially to Athanar! But just as much to any of his men, especially those who report to him themselves. We will have to be more careful now. I think it would be best if you do not speak to Athanar at all unless he speaks to you first, and then answer only the question he asks. And don't speak to Wynflaed either, unless she talks to you. Try to keep things light and off the subject of who is eorl. Can you do that? But also, please lay low for a while. And talk to your husband! Patch things up with him. I know you that you will stand your ground on this, and that is good, but try not to say anything that will rankle him or raise suspicion. Can you do that, Saeryn? Please say yes, or else I won't be able to help you."

[Firefoot]

Léof wasn’t sure whether to take Thornden’s words as a lecture, a rebuke, or an encouragement. A lesson, maybe. It was not what Léof had expected; he had hoped that Thornden would simply agree with him and that they might commiserate together. But Thornden didn’t agree with the soldiers, did he? No, that wasn’t it. If Thornden had seemed at all upset or angry with him during the speech, Léof probably would have interrupted him then and there and stalked off. But he was not; quite the opposite.

“…If you truly think you ought to be treated like a man, then act the way you think a man should act. Perhaps you are angry at them because you are not yet certain of your manhood yourself.”

Well, that stung a bit. Léof’s first impulse was to respond with an angry retort, but he held it back. Was Thornden right? Was he letting the soldiers walk all over him? “Then… what was I supposed to do?” Léof asked, a little bit of defensiveness creeping into his tone. “Have I been doing something wrong? And what am I supposed to do now?”

[Folwren]

Saeryn listened to Rowenna until she had finished, but her face did not have a very submissive look on it. Indeed, by the time Rowenna had finished, the expression seemed more defiant than ever.

“I won’t skulk in the corners and act demure and like a lady-in-waiting, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “And as for raising suspicion – I’m going to tell Eodwine exactly what I’m going to do, just like I told Athanar. It’s no secret, what I want. And there’s no reason for it to be. Why do you want it to be so secretive? We’re in the right, Rowenna. Do you doubt that? If you doubt it, then don’t work with me. We don’t need to be afraid.”

[Folwren]

Thornden inwardly felt relieved. At least Léof had not gotten angry and completely shut himself up. A little defiance was good to see, too. It was something to work with, if it could be turned into effort.

“What were you supposed to do?” Thornden repeated, adjusting his shoulder on the door frame. He looked off to one side. “Have you been doing something wrong, and what are you to do now?”

He considered the three questions silently a moment. “I do not think talking about what you might have done differently will be much help. I do not think you actually did anything wrong in giving your opinion, and you did not assault Scyrr, which I believe you considered doing. The only thing you allowed to happen that you should not have was letting their comments get to you, but that will be answered by what you should do now.

“You are defensive about your status, and that causes you to be sensitive about what other men say. No one agrees entirely with everyone, Léof. You cannot take their disagreement as a slight or an insult. Now, clearly sometimes some men will mean it that way – like Scyrr today. But don’t stoop to his level and respond in the same fashion.

“So, I would say what you should do is be less afraid to put your opinion out and be more willing to answer other men’s criticism of it. Tell them why you think it, and don’t let them bully you into not expressing it.”

He shrugged. “Will that give you enough to think about and work on for now?” he asked.

[Folwren]

When Leof had left Thornden to take action on his words, Thornden decided that it was high time he found Eodwine and greeted him home again. He went first to the kitchen, and found that Eodwine had just left with Ginna not five minutes ago. On his way out, he ran into Ginna, who told him that Eodwine had probably gone to the smithy to speak with Harreld. That caused Thornden to pause a minute, wondering if Eodwine had just spoken with Ginna and was going to go speak with Harreld now, perhaps he had better not interrupt, as he guessed what topic would be spoken of. It was no secret (and especially no secret to him) that Ginna's and Harreld's relationship had never been the same since that letter arrived from her father. Although he had never found out anything more about it since Saeryn told him not to pursue it, he had noticed a distinct separation of the two and he did not like it. He hoped that Eodwine would be able to solve this problem.

He decided that he would risk interrupting him, as he did not need to speak to Eodwine long in order to greet him, and as Eodwine could be hours speaking with Harreld, Thornden did not feel he had hours to wait. So he went at once to the smithy and knocked on the doorpost.

He was hailed to come in and did so, finding both smiths and Eodwine - and Falco - talking a lot and smithying not at all.

"Thornden! I have not had a chance to greet you yet!" cried Eodwine. "Well met indeed!" He came over and offered his hand.

"Welcome back, sir," Thornden said, grinning and grasping his arm firmly. "I am glad to see you back again, when none of us really thought you'd ever. . ." he paused a moment, still smiling. "You look better than you did when you came in. Are you happy with things as they are?"

Eodwine laughed. "That's subtly put, Thornden. Maybe it's too early to tell. That may be the best answer I can give, for now. However, there may be a thing or two that could use some looking into, but that's neither here nor there. How have you been faring?"

"Not badly at all, my lord." He did not even realize he had said it, and went on. "For myself, not much was changed. I am in much the same position as I was when you left. Honestly, it has been hardest watching out for Saeryn."

"That I can believe!" Eodwine allowed himself to think but not say, 'the little trouble maker'. He would have to deal with that soon enough. "But I am telling you, as often as my friends are calling me 'my lord' by mistake, I'm going to have to come up with something suitably demeaning to be lord of!"

"You can be lord of dung!" Falco said helpfully.

"Or lord of broken ladels!" offered Garreth.

"How about lord of kitchen messes?" Harreld laughed, not realizing how close he'd come to accurately describing how things had gone between himself and Saeryn.

"Lord of the three oafs, I should say!" Eodwine gave back lightly. "But seriously, Thornden, is there something I should know in regard to my wife?"

Thornden, who had stood by looking quite bewildered during the flury of jesting, immediately came back to seriousness. "I don't know if there is anything in particular, I just know that she took Athanar's coming very hard. I was concerned for her reaction and emotions as well as the men's respect of her, for, being the woman of the house without her husband who used to be lord, she was made the brunt of many demeaning words. She had your child to think of, and I believe some sort of arrangement was come to in regard to that."

Eodwine grew serious. "I wish I had known of this sooner. It may explain some things. This has been harder on her than I had allowed myself to think. But you said arrangement regarding the child. Of this I have not heard. What does it mean?"

"Athanar took Saeryn under his guardianship, as a daughter, and he intends to give the title to her child, if he is male. That, at least, is how I understood the agreement."

"Oh. I see." Eodwine frowned. "I must give that some thought."

"Well, lor - I mean my friend - we can talk at length later. I will not keep you from the three oafs you lord over any longer." Thornden grinned and waved before leaving them.