Brand had listened carefully to Leod’s concerns. And had nearly made up his mind that the group should push on despite the injuries its members had sustained. He could not see the value in leaving the badly wounded, barely mended, behind just to get a messenger or two to the Golden Hall. There were simply not enough of the able left to make a good defense if some were sent off.
Now Osmod had offered a compromise – several of the more able riders would scout ahead for any sign of trouble and in an effort to get a good, defensible campsite set up for the injured.
‘I’ll take the horn you’ve offered, Osmod,’ he said, reaching out his hand. ‘It’s a good idea, I think. Go ahead and let the others who you want to ride with you know of the plan. I would like you to leave soon. Leod and I will bring the others along at a slower pace after you’ve gone.’ He paused for a moment, considering the group as a whole. ‘Why don’t you see if Athwen wants to go, also. She might like that.’
Brand nodded to Osmod and took his leave. Leod, he thought, with a wry smile, would most likely support the plan. The old fellow could keep an eye on him, as he knew he wanted to do. Brand took a deep breath and flexed his shoulders a little to ease the stiffness. The wound in his left shoulder gave him a definite and painful reminder he was still not at his best.
Last edited by Arry; 05-04-2006 at 02:40 PM.
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