|
Bregoware
Meghan
‘Well, none of us seem like the right person,’ Meghan spoke up before Eostre had time to answer. ‘We’re farmers and herders. What do we know about going off on some dangerous errand for the march-warden?!’ She bit off a piece of the dried apple slice she’d been eating and chewed on it thoughtfully.
‘What’s that you’ve drawn in the dirt, Osmod? Some kind of map?’ She looked at it, her brow wrinkling. ‘See, now I wouldn’t make a good leader for this at all. As I said I’ve never been to the other side of the river. I know we’ll be heading west at some point to get to the King’s Hall. But “west” - where? Do we go farther south, down the river first?’
Meghan walked round the little drawing, then paused and looked toward the wide expanse of the river. ‘I like the idea of each of us having a say in things . . . but, there should be some one, don’t you think who decides which things to pay heed to and which can be discarded. Keeps us heading in the right direction.’ She scratched her head and gave the others a half smile. ‘Look, Osmod, you seem to have done fine by us so far. And didn’t the march-warden give you the letters to carry? Why don’t you just carry on in the lead? We’ll help out as we can with suggestions and such. Won’t that work out?’
|