[littlemanpoet]

"Good night, Thornden," she half whispered, since he had left without waiting for reply.

The question the boy had asked. “Have you ever done something so terribly bad and wondered what was going to happen to you?”

I murdered my own babies, and I choked the life out of two women so that there would be a greater chance that I would live. Does that count? I wondered if I would survive. It didn't work the way the boy meant it, but they were her chains of memory.

She turned her thought away from her own hard road. The boy had burned down the stables. Rowenna had overheard Eodwine tell Thornden that he and the boy would be leaving, and had found a dark corner to hide in to overhear anything else near the eorl. The boy had come and begged. "I’ll do my best to be good!" The sheer effrontery! But coming from this boy it did not surprise her; he seemed unaware of the weight of consequence of his actions, as if nothing he did could possibly truly affect the rest of his life. She knew better.

What had surprised her were the eorl's next words. His mind seemed ever changeable. Was that a good thing, or a bad? She supposed that it depended. But what was he thinking? She forced down a sudden urge to dry her hands, run to his room and go ask him. Such a foolish thing it would be to do. She kept at the pans.

Then there were steps coming down the corridor. The eorl came in. "Good even, Rowenna. Thank you for watching the boy. Thornden took him then?"

"Yes lord."

"My teeth need something to knead. What have we to spare?"

"Kara set a loaf of black bread in the pantry, lord."

He got out the loaf and sat on a stool on the other side of the table from where she stood. She kept her hands busy, hearing him tear a chunk off and chew. She could feel his eyes watching her back, but not in that way those ruffians had had, as if she were so much meat devour.

"What is my lord thinking on?" she ventured, staying her hands.

An ironic laugh escaped from him, harsher than she usually heard from him. "The boy and how to school him."

"You mean to let him stay then?"

"I'm thinking upon it."

She dried her hands on her apron and turned. His face looked dour in the lamp light. "Why let him stay?"

He looked up and studied her. She looked down at her hands after a moment. "Why make him go?" he asked.

She allowed a half smile. Now she must play the game, having asked a question of one higher ranking than herself, who could by rights turn the game any way he liked will she or nill she. "My lord is not bound to keep as laborer one who costs him more than he pays him."

"Is that why you work so hard, Rowenna, to make sure that you cost me less than I pay you?"

She looked up and was caught by his eyes. "I-" What he was asking was probing too close. "I do what I can to earn my keep," she said. She must turn the talk back to the boy. "So why keep him?"

"Because it is the best thing for him, I'm thinking."

"Better than sending him home?"

"He was spoiled there."

"So you would make a proper Eorling of him." How had he gotten her talking so?

"Not I alone. You, I think, Rowenna, would be able to teach him things the rest of us could not."

"My lord?" Like what, how to survive at the expense of others?

He shook his head. "No more talk tonight. I am not sure I will do this. I need to sleep. And so do you. Tarry not overlong," he said, and left the kitchen.