Hama turned his eyes to his tankard of ale, he focussed on it intently. It was clear something was squirming inside him, eating him up...
'Why first for Gondor?' he said in a surprisingly bitter voice...'They knew not true sorrow, they knew only fear, fear of what was to come. Rohan felt sorrow, men are not so easily replaced in The Mark as they are in the southern realm. There were few women in Gondor left to grieve over the fates of the men...'
His voice tailed into a whisper as he said the final sentence, then drank a gulp from his tankard and turned to Huan and said, in the same bitter, constricted voice,
'No, not to Gondor first, to Rohan before all others...'
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