Eorling Mead Hall

[Folwren]

Javan’s pride smarted painfully under Lèof’s words. The fact that Javan knew that Lèof was entirely right made it worse. The tumble had not hurt very badly. He thought he might be slightly bruised where the horse’s hoof hit him, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it - it would only give Lèof more reason to scold. The accident embarrassed Javan to no end and he thought he’d never be able to lift his head again before Lèof and Lys.

He obeyed Lèof’s instructions mutely while the ostler told him step by step about how to lift a horse’s hoof. His face was bright red as he bent over his work. The other two said nothing and the silence among them was unnatural.

“Sorry, Lys. I hope I didn’t interrupt you,” Lèof said finally.

Javan dropped the hind foot and looked towards Lys. He hadn’t really been listening to what Lys had been saying. His mind had been stuck on his embarrassed pride. He remembered vaguely the flow of his words, and then his curiosity was peaked at once.

“Say, you and Thornden seem to mention each other a lot. I heard that he found you and brought you in, but what else ‘ave you done to get to know each other?”

[Mithalwen]

Elfthain Theodmundsson had wandered to the Mead Hall on the pretext of discovering if the rumours of General Hama's return were true. While as he was as curious as any twelve year old boy in the adventures of a hero, any excuse to escape his uncle's house unsupervised for a while would have been welcome.

It was not that he disliked his relatives. He was really very fond of his cousins and his uncle had made great efforts to fill the void left by his father's death, but at the moment no one had any time for him. He did not really expect them to with a new baby expected any moment - but he still didn't see why his mother could not have left him at home, at Upbourn while she came to Edoras to tend to his aunt. He missed the farm, and the horses, and the space. They had been in town only a day or so but already Elfthain felt stifled. So when the cook had told him the news it was an opportunity too good to be missed.

Elfthain was quite tall for his age and as the only son of a prosperous widow his clothes were of good quality and fitted him well - not for him the indignity of hand-me-downs or cast-offs. Since he had left the house without maternal supervision they were worn untidily and his his dark gold hair was as tousled as when it had parted from his pillow.

He had reached the stable yard in time to see Javan's mishap and if anyone had been looking at him they would have seen a mixture of amazement and amusement in his bright, blue eyes. How could anyone in the Mark get to about his own age and not be able pick up a horse's foot? he wondered, forgetting that not everyone had grown up on a farm and had learnt to ride as they learnt to walk. But before any thoughtlessly scornful comment could pass his lips he realised how much he would like the company of boys of about his own age and so it was a diffident lad that ventured across the yard. Anxious for acceptance, his words fell out in a tumble,

"Hello, I 'm Elfthain. Is it true that General Hama has come back alive? And would you like any help?"

[Firefoot]

Léof turned to face the unfamiliar boy entering the stable. Hama’s return would be news indeed, if it was true. “I have not heard that rumor,” he said. “A short while ago a man came to the Hall, and here is his horse, but we had not heard his name.”

Elfthain’s asking for news had not seemed so out of place, but the offer to help seemed to have come out of nowhere. What was more, Léof doubted that this boy was much older than Javan, and while that did not necessarily mean anything, Léof felt wary of letting yet another person handle the horse, especially one whom he was unfamiliar with. Elfthain did seem rather lonely; perhaps he merely wanted some companionship. “I am not sure that we need any more help, but you are welcome to stay and talk. I am Léof, and these are Javan and Lys.”

[Mithalwen]

"Can I?", Elfthain answered the youth eagerly, " at home there is always things to do with the horses and the other animals but here - I mean at my uncles's house - there is nothing for me to do... and I just seem to get in the way if I try to help ... but I will try not to get in your way" he added quickly lest his admission cause Leof to banish him immediately.

Having deemed that this wasn't going to happen immediately, at least, he smiled at the younger boys and wondered what he should say. He wasn't used to meeting new people. Everyone in Upbourn knew who he was - or seemed to - had known him all his life for his father's family had farmed that land for several generations. But here Elfthain would have to win friends and respect for himself.

[Folwren]

Javan looked from the newcomer to Lèof as they exchanged a few words. There was a pause after Elfthain said his last bit and Javan turned his attention back to the horse.

He didn’t know who the General Hama was. He couldn’t remember if he had ever heard of him. Lèof and Elfthain both knew who he was, though, and Javan didn’t wish to show his ignorance before anyone. So instead of asking about Hama, he kept his mouth shut. After a pause, though, and after noticing that no one was saying anything, he looked back towards Elfthain.

“You won’t get in the way,” he said. “But d’you want to sit down there?” He nodded his head to the wooden bench against the wall. “I think we’re about done with the horse here. Where’re you from? Are you staying here long?” As he put the questions to the Elfthain, his sharp, intelligent eyes looked over the boy’s appearance and clothing. His clothes were fine and probably expensive and had they not been worn in a crooked and careless manner, Javan would probably have felt some dislike towards him. But the natural, boyish appearance made up for the unnatural, non-boyishness of the clean and nice clothes, and Javan liked his manner and his kindly and open face.

Javan’s eyes returned to Elfthain’s face, and he waited expectantly for answers.

[Taralphiel]

Lys watched the boy enter, and smiled as Lèof gave him his name. Javan began questioning him, and Lys found he had nothing to ask that Javan had not already thought of.

Lys slowly sat at the other end of the stall, taking care to keep safe a distance from the horse. He was now more sensitive to its size and strength. He thought about what the newcomer had said, about a General Hama...a General that had come back from the dead. This was all that his curiosity had been craving. Heroic deeds were being called to his mind. He wondered about the General's strength, and whether he could one day be so brave. He would ride out on a great grey horse and find all the memories that had deserted him. He would ride to war and banish enemies! To be brave and strong and able to swing a sword and run, that would be marvellous!

Just as Javan had been, Lys was then found daydreaming, and had not listened to a word that was said after Javan had finished his questions. And he had completely forgotten Javan's earlier question to him.

[Kath]

Kara awoke late that morning, her eyes not opening until long after the light of the sun fell on them. She lay still for a few moments, enjoying the unexpected sensation of a lie-in, but as she woke up properly the realisation that she should have been in the kitchen more than an hour ago struck her and she leapt out of the bed and into her clothes in a panic. Rushing downstairs she found most of the Hall up and breakfasted, including a man she had not seen before. Had she not been late she would have stopped to enquire about him but seeing that he had been taken care of already she continued on her way.

"I'm so sorry!" She cried out as she entered the kitchen, seeing Frodides was hard at work clearing up the used breakfast dishes. "I didn't realise the time. I didn't mean to leave you to cope with all this alone again."

Grabbing her apron and a clean towel she stationed herself by the sink and started washing up, slightly surprised to find that quite a large amount of it seemed to have already been done.

"Don't fret, girl. If I'd needed you so badly I'd have sent someone along to get you up, but luckily for you I had help from another. Remember me telling you there were some new faces here last night? Well ..."

But before Frodides could finish her sentence the sound of happy chattering came from the doorway leading to the yard and seconds later two people entered the kitchen. The first was Modtryth who nodded to Kara as she came in but the second was a girl she had never seen before.

"Kara," she turned slightly hearing Frodides' voice behind her, "this is Ginna. She's going to be with us for a while as she's to learn wenching. Ginna, this is Kara."

Turning back to the now introduced Ginna Kara quickly dried her wet hands and held one out.

"Then I suppose it's you I have to thank for doing what I should have been this morning." She said smiling at the newest addition to the workers of the Hall.

[Folwren]

Thornden drew rein a little way from the ruin and leaped down from the saddle. The place where Falco had indicated that Eodwine was would be just around that small hill.

“We’ll leave the horses here,” he said to the men, “and go in on foot. We don’t know what is in there and the horses will merely announce our coming. Spread out however you can – the underbrush is thick – but don’t stray too far from each other. Depending on how many there are, our main chance may be in collective strength. But if there are not many, than each of us fighting alone or in pair may be all we need.

“Forward, now. Quietly. Keep your eyes open and yourselves quiet.”

He drew his sword, a thing he rarely bore, and went forward cautiously. The men moved behind him, holding what weapons they had in their hands. There was not a faint heart among them as they advanced into an unknown place and against unknown enemies.

Rounding the shoulder of the hill, Thornden could see before him the twisted vines and underbrush that grew over the old stonework. Trees grew far apart where he was now, and the underbrush was not very thick, but in there it was like a jungle, twisted and tangled, full of hollow pockets where men could hide and lie in wait.

He forged forward, taking the path that he, Falco, and Garmund had taken a few days ago, leading straight into the heart of the ruins. He moved slowly, his body tense with expectation, his ears straining until they hurt with the effort to hear something out of place. His eyes peered forward and to the sides, looking for any sign of anyone.

A stick snapped to his right. He jerked about, just as there was a rush of crackling bracken and leaves. A man flung himself forward upon him and Thornden’s left hand lifted just in time to grasp at the descending dagger. The blade cut his hand severely, but it turned the blow away from his chest. The outlaw stumbled, thrown off balance with the force of his attack. Thornden fell backwards, too, momentarily dizzy with the shock of the impact and the pain in his hand, but by the time the man regained his balance, Thornden had regained his wits, and they turned towards each other at the same moment.

[Folwren]

When they first started out from the place, Thornden did not walk beside Falco and Eodwine. He fell into line behind Eodwine, and when his younger brother moved to stay with Falco, he called him back. Javan obeyed reluctantly, leaving the Hobbits side and going to Thornden with a sullen look.

The entire group set off. Some of the guards of Meduseld took up Rilef’s body and walked behind Thornden. The others from the Mead Hall walked behind those – Garmund going directly behind Rilef, looking crushed and depressed. Javan’s curiosity kept his head craned over his shoulder, staring with wide eyes at Rilef and Garmund, until Thornden laid his hand on his shoulder and jerked him forward again.

“What happened?” Javan asked.

“Don’t know,” Thornden replied in clipped tones.

“Weren’t you here?”

“Not when he got hurt.”

“Did you-”

Thornden didn’t want to be questioned. He had questions of his own to ask and he deserved answers more than Javan’s silly curiosity did. “Javan,” he interrupted, “why are you here? I told you to stay back at the Hall, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Javan said slowly. “It was Falco’s fault. He wanted to go get help and we couldn’t use his pony, and I didn’t want him to ride mine all by himself because…he’s so little I didn’t think he could control him.” Actually, the thought had not really entered his mind, but it was an excuse. “And,” he went on quickly, “I was only expecting to go to Meduseld to get help, it was all Falco’s idea to come here.” He quickened his pace and plucked Falco’s sleeve. “Tell Thornden that it was your idea to come here after getting the men from Meduseld, Mr. Falco.”

[littlemanpoet]

This Elborn was a handsome enough fellow in his ship-legged way. Rowenna smiled just enough to suggest that she was not ill-disposed to him, and nodded to indicate that she understood his meaning about the lockpicks. She tried to toss her untossable, matted her winsomely and failed, and wished very hard that she could get to the Eorl's mead hall very soon so she could bathe, brush out her hair, and maybe even find a new dress to replace the rags she wore.

She wondered how this Elborn knew about Ghem's lockpicks. She wasn't convinced that he was telling the truth about himself, in general. It was not that he seemed less likely to be truthful than any of these others, including the Eorl; living among outlaws for two years had taught her to place her trust in others carefully and seldom. She wondered what had sent him away from the sea, for it was clearly where he belonged. The outlaw scouts and guards had not seen him nor heard of him before this day, and that was saying something. Ghem's talk had been as if he'd snitched his lockpicks off their previous owner unbeknownst, which might or might not be true. At any rate, she had no intention of mentioning Ghem's lockpicks to anyone else. Better to let things happen that she could not easily stop, no matter how unforgiveable, and see what might be made of them later. It was how she had survived among outlaws.

Things were in a bad way for Ulric and Withold, perhaps less so for Ghem; which suited her fine, considering all they'd put her through. Not least of all was today's outrage, killing her poor dogs, Bull and Claw. She wanted to tear both their eyes out. Instead, she schooled herself away from her rage and forced herself to think on the memory of Bull, her big strong and courageous mastiff, and Claw her clever wolfhound, brother to Fang. At least Bear, her hound, had not been killed, his sad eyes looking back at her as if he too grieved his packmates. Gray, her wolf-dog, was too high spirited and in the moment to think any more upon Bull and Claw. Her pointed ears were up and forward as she looked from speaker to speaker, her curly tail flipping back and forth like a darting fish.

But not all the outlaws had been accounted for. This would not do.

"Lord," she said into the first pause in conversation among the others, "I know each of these rogues by face and name. I would help you be sure that all are accounted for if you will show me the dead."

"Witch! Traitorous witch!" cried Ulric.

She gave him not even a glance, holding the eyes of the Eorl, who agreed to her offer. He sent Haleth and his men back to Meduseld with his thanks, then he and his men showed Rowenna each of their kills. It was in this way that Thornden's story came out again, and became less mysterious, of a headless rogue whom he could not remember having killed.

"What do you make of it, lord?" asked Thornden.

"I know not."

"I do," Rowenna said. "Cedric is not among the dead, and he is not captive. He must have escaped. He was one of the more clever ones, and spoke less than he seemed to know."

"Where might he have gone?" the Eorl asked.

"I know not."

"What might he have a mind to do?"

"I know little of that either, except that this one's head is missing, whatever may be made of that. And be sure that whatever may be, will be to Cedric's advantage."

"And clearly to the disadvantage of this headless one," Eodwine remarked.

"Maybe he is spying on us this very moment," Falco offered, looking around.

The eyes of all who remained wandered here and there among the bracken and briars and trees and stone outcroppings, but very little if anything could be seen, and there was no sudden noise as if this Cedric was trying to make a hasty exit.

"Who was this Cedric?" Eodwine asked. "What can you tell me about him so that it can be decided what to do about him?"

"He was last to join us," Rowenna answered. "He proved himself useful with his sword and dagger, and he took orders well enough. He kept to himself mostly."

"When and where did he join you?"

"Some moons ago, not far from Dunland."

"Did he ever speak of any plans of his own devising?"

"Nay, never. He offered to add his sword to ours for a fair share of the gains."

Eodwine shrugged. "Well, since there is little enough to know about this fellow, let us leave this place and return to the Mead Hall."

As she fell into line towards the rear of the party, Rowenna wondered what to expect from Ghem, and this Elborn; and from Cedric. She kept her thoughts to herself.

[Lhunardawen]

By the time Kara had returned to the kitchen the new girl she had just had time to be introduced to, Ginna, had disappeared and Frodides and Modtryth were clearing up the dishes that had been left scattered in the great hall as everyone had rushed out. Guiltily realising that she had been of absolutely no help so far Kara hurried to help, filling the sink with soapy water and starting to wash up.

She was down to the last couple of plates when Ginna reappeared, looking a little flushed and smiling down at Lèoðern who was chattering away quite happily as they entered the kitchen. Frodides also turned as the two entered, a satisfied look crossing her face as she saw them.

"Feeling better now little madam?" She asked Lèoðern, who gazed up at her and nodded vigorously. "Well that's wonderful. Do you think we could have your new friend back for a little while? We need her help now."

Lèoðern nodded again and let go of Ginna's hand.

"Bye m'lady!" She called as Modtryth, who had offered to take her on her rounds of the Hall so she wouldn't be underfoot in the already quite crowded kitchen, led her off down the hallway.

"M'lady?" Frodides inquired of Ginna with an amused arch of an eyebrow, but continued before she had a chance to answer. "Well m'lady, if you don't mind coming down to our level for a while I have a little task for you."

Ginna flushed, whether in annoyance or embarrassment Kara didn't know, but moved to the table Frodides was standing at all the same. Kara followed suit, assuming she could be of some help and having little else to do.

"Ah!" Frodides said, catching sight of Kara coming closer. "I'll leave you to teach the basics to our new girl here, I need a look at that garden." And she disappeared out of the back door, leaving Kara and Ginna alone in the kitchen.

Seeing that she had been left with the easy task of teaching Ginna how to sharpen the knives used in preparing meat and how to prepare a salad. Neither were tasks Ginna would usually be required to do, but Kara had found that working in a kitchen often meant you ended up doing something that was not supposed to be your responsibility, so it was good for Ginna to learn this now. In addition, the simplicity of the tasks would allow them to finally finish the conversation they had tried to start that morning.

"Hello again." She began. "I'm sorry we got interrupted this morning. I'd say it isn't usually so crazy in here but I'd be lying! There's always something going on in this place."

"Always? Oh dear, what have I got myself into?" Ginna went in a mock panicked voice - Lèoðern's mood seemed to have rubbed off on her - and Kara chuckled gently. "So, what are you going to teach me?"

"Not too much." Kara replied. "I suppose you've already learnt serving food and drink out in the main hall, so we're really doing things you might be asked to do if we're very busy. First off we have sharpening knives, an easy job if you don't mind the noise it makes!"

Kara picked up one of the duller knives and a sharpening stone and began her demonstration, Ginna watching her movements closely.

"Want to give it a try?" Kara asked, and Ginna nodded, holding her hands out for the tools.

"Oh!" Kara cried, catching sight of the girl's bandaged hand as she stretched it out to receive the knife. "What happened? Does it hurt? Maybe we should do the salad instead."

"This? It's nothing," Ginna said in an awkward chuckle. Kara gave her a dubious look, still holding on to the tools. Sighing, Ginna pulled her hand back and raised it for Kara to see.

"It was just a silly accident yesterday. I was carrying some dishes when Master Falco, Lefun, and Ritun came in--"

Kara nodded and smiled understandingly. She knew what came next.

"It was unfair to them," Ginna continued, feeling her cheeks heat up a bit. "I apologised to them last night, and I'm sure I'll never be frightened by them again. But as I said, it's nothing. I've been wounded worse - accidents are bound to happen when a female is being taught the use of a sword. Now then..."

She held out her hand towards Kara again, and Kara placed the tools in it with a still doubtful glance at the bandage.

"Well, just tell me if it starts to hurt." She said, trusting that Ginna would know when to stop if she needed to. "So what were you doing with a sword?" She continued, deciding it was time to find out more about Ginna. Upon receiving the knife and the stone, Ginna had straightaway started on her task, and it was a few moments before she replied.

"My father wanted me to learn how to use it, for my protection. I'm his only child, you see, and my mother's gone," she added, with a glance at Kara. "He knows Lord Eodwine from the War, and requested of him to...let me stay here for a while."

"Oh I'm so sorry about your mother." Kara said, almost reaching out to comfort Ginna, but stopping herself as she realised she was still holding sharp objects in her hands. "Is that why your father wants you to stay here? So you can have some female company?"

Ginna could not help smiling. That was a good enough alternative reason, she thought. And it could have had an element of truth to it; Randvér could have known that there will be enough women in the Hall to keep her company...and keep her well-behaved.

"You could say that," she said at last. If she had any plans of saying more she was denied it, as a shrill voice rent through the silence of the Hall:

"They're here!"

Quickly looking at each other, Ginna and Kara dropped the knives, wiped their hands on their aprons, and ran out the kitchen, Frodides coming up behind them. Outside was Modtryth and Lèoðern, with downcast faces. Ginna turned and saw what they were looking at.

"Oh, no," she whispered. "What happened to him - them?"

[Lhunardawen]

Having heard everything she needed to hear concerning Lefun and Ritun's death, Ginna slipped away from the congregation in the Mead Hall and stealthily made her way back to the kitchen. She did not even let Kara see her, even though she could have needed her company, at least in finishing the work they had left behind. She wanted to be alone, to think, to express what she was thinking even just through her face, without anyone noticing and asking her what was wrong.

She knew Rilef's death should not affect her much, for she had only met them the day before, but her encounter with them was not as simple to her as it probably had been to them. Her apology had been sincere; she was concerned about how much she might have offended them, and was determined not to do it again. Perhaps she felt she could relate with them - surely they always had people judging them based on their appearance, and caring not to see what lay beneath it. Just like my father, judging me for what I had done, and refusing to consider that it might have been his fault . . .

As she walked slowly, with the kitchen in sight, she felt a tear fall unexpectedly down her cheek. Remembering her father, he could not control memories of her mother also flooding in . . . she had died shortly before the War, when Ginna would have most needed her in her father's absence . . . and now Rilef died after she arrived in the Mead Hall. Am I a curse to the people around me? she asked herself bitterly, and let more tears fall.

Ginna stopped at the kitchen's threshold and quickly wiped her face, though she was quite certain no one was there. She stepped forward, and with relief found she was right. She took up the knife she had been sharpening and continued her work, just as though there had been no interruption, her emotions churning inside her but careful not to let them show.

[Firefoot]

“Of course. Just let me put him away first,” Léof replied, patting the horse’s shoulder. Thornden nodded. Léof unclipped the horse from the aisle and led him to a nearby stall. After making sure the water pail was filled, he left the horse and returned to where Thornden stood. “Can I help you with something?” Léof asked.

“Well, yes,” said Thornden. “It’s about Javan.”

This piqued Léof’s curiosity. After all, Javan had only spent a short while in the stable, not yet the full week of trial they had initially agreed to. “I’m listening.”

“I am considering removing Javan from stable work as punishment for his disobedience today,” Thornden explained, “but first I want to know how much help he is to you. If he is a great help to you, he will remain where he is and I will come up with another suitable punishment.”

Léof did not respond quickly. Javan’s arrival at the scene of the fight had surprised him, of course, but he himself had spoken no word of reproach; that was not his place. But now Thornden was effectively placing the nature of Javan’s punishment in his hands. “He is not necessary to me – I managed alright before he came,” Léof replied truthfully, “and he has much to learn. He does seem to learn quickly, however, and in time I could come to depend on him. I will support your decision whether he goes or stays.” There. That was fair – and removed the actual decision-making from Léof’s shoulders.

[Taralphiel]

Lys had been able to freely walk the Halls since his recovery, but this had been the first time he had a companion free of duties to explore with.

Lys' first thought was to walk to the markets. Hrethel would be busy, and would not want him playing as his shadow. Lys had wished to see the markets for some time. Walking with Elfthain was just what Lys needed to lift his spirits and lessen his worry over Thornden.

Entering the marketplace, Lys was near stunned by the colours, smells and activity. The food stalls lured him with their deep scents and Lys suddenly felt the wish that he had coin to purchase a savoury pie or an apple or carrot.

The food stalls stretched for most of the space allocated to the markets, but small wares stalls dotted the area, selling stock left from the horse fair. Lys followed Elfthain as he bounded from stalls carrying swords, to trinkets and jewellery and then to finely polished and designed saddles.

Lys stopped at a stall selling woven goods. The goods were of varied artisans, and for varied uses. Soft woven fabric for dresses and tunics were gathered in ordered piles while blankets of different colours were displayed about the edges of the stall with pegs and tied lengths of thick twine. Lys stopped at one blanket.

It was the same as the one he had been found in, his only possession. His had been torn and stained in the mud beyond the hope of any cleaning. This one had reds that burned and blues that where icy cool next to them. The gold twine sparkled to Lys eyes. He stopped staring when Efthain’s hand was on his shoulder, and he finally heard the query of the stallkeeper.

"Nice work, is it not boy? Sold to me by a stanger, 'least to these parts. Doubt it was the maker. Did not know the skill put into this. Not of Edoras, no. An outlying people, I say. Worth a bag of coin, at least."

Lys heart seemed to sink to the pit of his stomach. He smiled and nodded, turning to Elfthain who was looking at him with concern.

"You look pale? Are you ill? Should we be going back?"

Lys shook his head. There was still time left in the day, and he did not want to miss more, even if more than his ankle was aching.

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna

Rowenna's throat clenched in panic. Every nerve in her body urged her to scream, or because of the threat of death at knife point, to swallow the scream and weep silently.

No.

This was not the first time. It had been this way all the time those first few months, and then there were more incidents later; the last one had been Eric, one of the most rascally ones, who was now thankfully dead.

Make the best of the situation.

Using her silkiest voice she said, "You are just in the nick of time, my love." She leaned back into Ulric, using her body to remind him of his lust. "I was beginning to wonder if Ghem was going to remind you of his lockpicks."

"Lying witch! You betrayed us."

"Silly boy, I played the Eorl. You did not die. Why do you think not?"

Rowenna could see out of the corner of her eye that the young cook's eyes were widening with fear, not having expected such words from her.

"See, you even have a new wench for your pleasure."

"Don't trust her Ulric!" growled Withold.

"Girl," said Rowenna, her voice suddenly harsh, "hand over the knife if you wish to live. If you do not, my friends here will think nothing of slitting your throat once they've taken it from you. They've done it before. And don't be a little fool and scream, or you'll get yourself killed even quicker."

Rowenna wondered what the girl would do. Confound Ulric for not trusting her more and loosening his grip on her!

"Ulric, my dear, I would be so much more useful if you take your little knife from my throat."

Eodwine

None of the others wished to speak, Eodwine concluded after a short wait. He ordered Garwiné to stand honor guard over Rilef's body, and ordered Stigend to build a casket so that Lefun and Ritun could be buried in the back pasture that night. Then he indicated that the others were free to go about their duties. Eodwine remained standing where he was, reflecting on the strange events of the day. He was startled to realize that almost everyone had left without him aware; except for Falco, Garmund, Cnebba, and Modtryth. They were still standing where they had been, each of them eyeing their Eorl.

"Well? One of you wishes to say something now that the others are gone. Please speak your mind."

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine halted just before the door to the kitchen in order to take stock of the situation; he didn't want an arrow or other missile to put an end to him before he had a chance to do anything worthwhile. Sword in his right hand, throwing axe in his left, he crossed his weapons before him as a partial shield and took a step forward. One outlaw held Ginna by knife, another held Rowenna, and the third and smallest had his hands free and his knife dripping blood, facing down Stigend, who was wounded in the shoulder.

They could flee through the back door! Eodwine quickly crossed the space, facing the outlaws, and blocked their way. Elborn came just inside the kitchen and blocked the way to the Great Room.

"You are matched man for man," Eodwine growled. "Unhand the women and throw down your weapons!"