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Osric’s sudden and uncharacteristically good humor brought a smile to Hearpwine’s face and a laugh to his throat. He pounded the elder on his back with such vigor that the old warrior staggered into his seat, but Hearpwine’s spirits were too high to notice. The Inn was quieter than the street had been, and its now familiar and humble shape was strangely comforting to Hearpwine after the grand heights of the Golden Hall. He looked about and saw Aylwen looking up from where she sat at her desk, her face wreathed in smiles. Bêthberry was there with, as always, her oddly knowing smile. She returned his glance with little more than a nod of her reverend head, but he read much in that gesture, and with a gravity that did not often characterize his actions, he bowed his head to her slightly. But his joy was greatest when he beheld Liornung coming toward him, his arms outspread and his face beaming with joy. The two men embraced one another like brothers, and once more Hearpwine felt tears upon his face, for of all the men whom he could have wished to be with on this day, the fiddler who had set him on the Road that had brought him to this moment was the most dear. “My dear, dear friend,” Liornung said, “I am more happy for you than you can know! What a tremendous honour! And how much more enviable than becoming the Bard – now you can travel and see the world. Who knows, if your Lady will allow it, perhaps you can join with me in my travels some time.”
Hearpwine’s face took on the look of one who had been granted his heart’s desire beyond all hope, and he was speechless. He merely took Liornung’s hand in his own and fought back the knot that clutched at the back of his throat. Liornung then saw Eorcyn approaching and he hailed the old Bard with glee. “Good Eorcyn,” he said, “I had heard of your success and was overjoyed – the King has chosen wisely indeed!” The two men shook hands.
Hearpwine found his voice at last. “You were Bard to the King!” he burst out at Liornung. “All this time, and you did not tell me! I had thought that none had followed Gleowine until this day!”
It was Eorcyn who replied. “Indeed he was, and a much finer Bard than I fear I shall be. If the Lady could indeed be prevailed upon to allow you to accompany Master Liornung on his travels, even if for only a short time, you would learn more from him in a season than I can offer you in many years of careful instruction.” Liornung flushed and began to refute the compliment, but the old Bard held up his hand and said with mirth, “Silence! Have I not this day been made Bard to the King? I will not be gainsaid in matters such as this – a masterful Bard you were, and one you shall always be, although I know you do not take the title for yourself.”
It was Osric, now recovered from Hearpwine’s rough treatment, who first recalled the bards to the matter at hand. “I see that we have here,” he said loudly, commanding the attention of the Inn, “three Bards of the Golden Hall: past, present and future. Come! Let us demand a song of them, so that we may boast years hence of the day we heard the three mightiest bards of Rohan united in song!”
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