[Firefoot]

Harold watched in satisfaction at the stricken look that came over Sandrina’s face as she read the message. He and his sons had made good time throughout the night and by the light of the early morning approached and hid on the very grounds of the estates. He himself had shot the arrow with the message tied to it. The message had been simple: death to her parents, and death to herself. Now he only had to see what her reaction would be. He was not quite close enough to make out Sandrina’s words to her companions, about half of which he had noted were in fact female, but he could see their actions.

He smiled evilly as Sandrina whistled for the horses the group was using. His smile faded to a frown when he realized the direction she intended to take, however. She did not flee as he had expected; rather she headed her horse deeper into Rohan. Her companions followed as soon as each was mounted, one of the men injured. She’s going after her parents, he realized. Another one of those female weaknesses - no thought to your own safety... Harold did some quick calculations. She would take the roads, because she would need to find out where her parents were living, and the only way to do that would be to go through towns. He, on the other hand, knew precisely where Henry and Eowyn made their abode. He and his sons would go cross-country, then, and come to the cabin ahead of Sandrina, where they would be waiting with a trap.

In case the Estates had not been left alone, he left silently from his hiding spot and motioned for Arthur and Samuel to do the same. If he had not been so enthused by his own devious plans he might have noticed how his sons were reacting to the situation. Samuel looked the same as always, reluctant and disgusted, which would not have surprised Harold, but Arthur’s feelings were changing to be closer to Samuel’s, which would have sparked Harold’s temper in a big way had he paid attention.

Harold did not pay attention, though, and so his sons were spared a tongue lashing. Harold checked on the horses, and saw that they looked fatigued, as well they should. He said, “We need fresh horses. We will have to trust that there are no people left at the estates, and if there are...” He gripped his sword handle. “They will die.” He spun on his heel, expecting his sons to follow. He made his way down the familiar trail to the stables, and found it abandoned. Smirking, he mused that Sandrina had left no thought whatsoever to the well-being of the estates.

“Hurry; we don’t have much time,” said Harold. “Get a horse, and return to where are supplies are.” For himself, he knew precisely the horse he wanted: a tall gray with a good build and strong hindquarters. The horse was at the far end of the stables, and turning a corner he nearly tripped. Seeing the cause, he mentally recoiled in disgust. It was the body of one of his men. Couldn’t do their job right, could they? You’d think they’d be able to get the best of a bunch of women and a few men. He really did have no time to waste, so he continued on with no thought to the corpse. He found the horse and led it back to their meeting location by a different route.

Arthur and Samuel came back about the same time he did, and began to saddle the new mounts. Ready to go, Harold issued another set of instructions. “Sandrina has gone after her parents. We need to beat her and her companions to Henry’s cabin, so we will be heading in a direct route there-” He gestured vaguely toward Henry’s house. “-and once we get there we will secure Henry and Eowyn and lay a trap for Sandrina. We will not kill Henry and Eowyn yet; for her trouble Sandrina will see them die.” Samuel looked outraged. Arthur schooled his expression to one of none. He thought Samuel would argue, and he even opened his mouth to do so, but no words came out. “Good,” said Harold evenly. “We are in agreement.” He mounted skillfully and set off at a trot into the knee-high grass of the plains. Leading the way, he thought he heard Arthur and Samuel talking quietly behind him, but Harold did not care. So long as they did his bidding, he gave little heed what they thought. And they would do his bidding, for his sons would not dare to do otherwise. Harold set his mind on their destination. Soon, very soon, his schemes would come to fruition, and an unhappy day that would be to those who dared to oppose him.