[Nerindel]

Matrim

“Why thank you, master…,” Matrim paused realising he had not asked the lads name.

“Javan, my name is Javan” the boy offered as he led Matrim’s gelding into the last stall.

“Well then master Javan, my name is Matrim, but you can call me Mat if you like. Most of my other friends do.” He smiled, stroking the long face of his gelding as Javan closing and latching the stalls door suddenly looked up, a broad grin splitting his face, seemingly pleased to be included his friend.

“But speaking of friends,” Matrim continued. “My friend Balvir will be wondering where I have gotten to and as much as I would like to stay and get to know my new found friend better. I had better get back to him and besides I do not think Master Leof would be too happy if he knew I was keeping his only just returned groom from his other duties.” He grinned nodding towards the dark gelding Javan had been working on when he first arrived.

“No I don’t think he would be,” Javan laughed, turning back to the gelding. Matrim laughed along with him. “Well it was good meeting you master Javan and I hope that we can talk again soon.”

“I would like that.” Javan answered excitedly, picking up the curry brushes. Matrim nodded once, before turning to leave, then stopped remembering something the lad had said.

“Oh Javan,” he said, drawing the boy’s attention once more. “If Lord Eodwine has as good an eye as you have told me, then he will surely see that you have the makings of a fine groom or he is a blind fool indeed,” he winked jovially, leaving the lad beaming with pride. A little praise when warranted always goes along way and doesn’t cost a thing, his father always told him.

Matrim’s jovial smile only lasted till a few paces from the stable, some of what Javan had said troubled him. In his book nice men meant honest law abiding folk who avoided trouble where ever possible, which would not bode well for Æðelhild, especially as she was not in lieu of all the facts. Things ran much deeper than any of them could have imagined and although he knew Balvir was not ready to trust this Eorl, he could not help thinking that some of what they knew could help. But he had promised to follow Captain Balvir’s lead, after all the man did have more experience; being one of the famed shadows; hero’s of Ithielien. Though he was no fool and fully aware that his father had him sent on this errand to keep him out of trouble. His frequently increasing displays of open hostility toward the head Merchant of Minas Tirith was causing problems. Problems that Lord Mordavim could well do without, especially if they were to discover the proof they so desperately needed and telling him of Æðelhild and who she really was had secured his co-operation.

A look of disgust crossed his face as he thought of the things they had forced Æðelhild too reveal, if he had disliked the man before he totally detested him now and even the hangman’s noose would be poor justice, he thought bitterly. He breathed deeply expelling his anger as he pulled open the door leading into the main hall and wearing a wide grin and a cheeky wink for a passing serving girl he removed his sword and went to find Balvir.

The man wasn’t hard to find sitting at a far table seemingly eating a meal and drinking a good ale as he enjoyed the atmosphere of the hall, but Matrim knew better, the old man would be thinking hard, planning what to do next if Æðelhild’s Eorl refused to help her.

“So did you find us work then?” he asked loud enough that those close enough would hear, but not so loud as to draw to much attention as he sat opposite the older man.

“Aye, Perhaps,” Balvir answered around his mug. “I got it from one of the maids, that the man we should talk to is Master Thornden.” He nudged his head slightly to indicate a tall fellow, older than Matrim but certainly not as old as Balvir, enjoying the company of the others at his table. “Apparently the Eorl’s right hand man.” Balvir added almost offhandedly.

Matrim’s eyebrows raised slightly as he glanced at the man. “Young master Javan’s older brother, so the lad was not boasting,” he laughed. Causing Balvir to frown at him as if having missed some great joke, so after stopping a passing maid and ordering more ale and some cooked meat, Matrim told him of his conversation with the young groom and the lad’s assessment of the Eorl and the others in the hall. As they spoke neither one made any mention of Æðelhild or the errand they were on.

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Æðelhild

Æðelhild nodded, she was fully aware of the predicament she placed on the Eorl if he took her as his healer and of the strong alliances between Rohan and Gondor, but she would not return, at least not yet. Although she was still not entirely sure why her father’s friend chose to speak for her he had and as a lord of Gondor that would surely cause problems for him as well. She knew the right thing to do would be to return, even with the king gone she could still petition the steward, but Balvir’s warning still echoed in her mind, along with Lord Mordavim’s advice that she stay away until he sent for her which she could only hope meant he had some kind of plan, a plan that her early return might jeopardise.

“For two reasons Milord, the first being that the King is not at this time in Minas Tirith and the second being that Lord Mordavim of Ithielien has requested that I stay away until such time as matters can be resolved or that he sends for me.” She answered carefully.

“Lord Mordavim?” Eodwine asked questioningly and she went on then to explain her Meeting with King Eomer and the two men sent by Lord Mordavim to be her protectors, she also told him of Mordavim and Balvir’s connection to her father, and how she felt that both men had held back, if not with the King certainly with her.

“The King thinks as you do that this is a matter for Gondor and although I am not fully aware of his reasons I believe the King meant for me to return here and ask for your help,” she concluded. He had Hrethel give me this letter for you.” Reaching into her pouch she took out the fine parchment and handed it to Lord Eodwine.