[littlemanpoet]

The stable roof fell in. The drenched walk-through adjacent to the guest wing did not catch fire. Slowly the flames died down, a people throwing half-empty and half-hearted pails of water on the dying embers. Soon the heat from the flames dissipated and the glowing coals darkened. People walked around listlessly, transfixed by the process of the dying fire.

Kara, Modtryth and Ginna came around passing out cups water to everyone. Sitting on the ground, his back to the wall of the guest wing, Eodwine took one from them and downed it in one series of crackingly thirsty gulps, with his thanks.

How had this happened?

There was Léof, with Thornden, who stood with his back to the ostler, staring at the remains of the stable. Eodwine got up achingly, and walked over to the two.

Léof, having seen his shadow, looked up at Eodwine. Thornden turned.

"How did this happen?"

"I do not know," Léof responded listlessly. "It was already alight when I came back from supper."

"Nor I," said Thornden. "I learned of it from Æðel."

Eodwine nodded. He looked around the courtyard and his eye caught a stranger kneeling by Javan. From a distance and gathering twilight it was hard to tell, but the boy looked covered in soot.

"Javan!" Eodwine said, his brow furrowing. Léof, rising from the ground, and Thornden both looked at Eodwine in startlement, which turned to stiffening and dark looks. No words passed between the three, but it was as if each of them knew what the other was thinking. The three walked together to Javan.

They stopped before the two, glowering.

"What happened?" Eodwine asked curtly.