[Nogrod]

Sythric really enjoyed the freshly smoked fish while listening to the old man. Fresh food really tasted after that dried lamb! At a moment he realized himself thinking, that the others should be offered some too. It would do good to all of them. Well I hope they notice this chance-lunch themselves, for this discussion will have to be made first.

Sythric started to get the hang of all this. It was at the same time more comforting but also more vividly tormenting. Wulfham might be still standing, even though without its people who were making their journey westwards – as were the Bregowarians. Hope they still were... But the picture was more real now. All of the eastern Rohan was on the move.

Leod fell silent. Sythric chewed the bit in his mouth and cleared his throat. He watched the old man seriously and said with some real compassion. “I’m really sorry about Scyffold. I did visit your town a couple of times, long time ago. It was a beautiful place, and the people I met there were goodhearted.” He took a small bite more of the fish, just looking at the old man who seemed to be in anguish after he had mentioned his town. No wonder, Sythric thought to himself.

“But anyhow. We rest are afraid for our cities and their people, and just hope the fate of yours hasn’t already turned on them – and to all the others. You might not know Bregoware, where we come from. It’s something like a bit more than a day’s ride north-east from the ferry of Arnanaes – or the King’s ferry, as some people call it. Our mission seems to be similar to that of the Wulfhamers here. So we share our destinies.” He fell silent again, just watching the slow fire, and Dorran handling the fish skilfully, as if he had done that all his young life. And young he was, just as Fion... But how about Fion? The thought came back to him, and he got concerned again.

“Oh, how about Fion, the young lad from our party who had himself shot in the head? Is he going to be able to ride tomorrow? This really worries me.” He asked lowering his voice, not wanting Fion sitting some ten yards away from them by the larger fire, to hear them, and looking at the old healer questioningly. Luckily the hassle and toil of Dorran made a shield of sound of some kind also. The words of old Hugebryth echoed in his head once more: “Just remember, that this message to the King, no matter how slim are the chances that it will affect anything in the end, is the single most important thing on your journey. It’s more important than the lives of any one of those youngsters”. Still he couldn’t think of leaving Fion behind, even with some others who would not be fast riders enough. He just couldn’t – even though he knew, that it might just be the thing required from them.