[Lhunardawen]

Finally, Scarburg.

It was late, much later than Randvér had planned. He had originally intended to come to his friend Eodwine's new estate when he and his household had first relocated to it. He had planned to help them get settled, but more importantly, he was to find out for himself how her daughter had been. Ginna had been under Eodwine's care for months, and he wanted to know if the arrangement had yielded the effect he desired.

Randvér had not been without news of his daughter's doings. Eodwine had informed him of the near-escape of the outlaws he held captive back in the old mead hall. Ginna had been taken hostage by one of these outlaws while she worked in the kitchen. She had been found by Eodwine and his men held at knife-point, but later managed to returned the captor's favour and held the knife to his throat. Eodwine had to invoke his authority over the girl to stop her from killing the outlaw. Randvér had shaken his head at his daughter's wayward deed when he heard of it, but in truth he felt a bit proud of her courage.

He also knew of the fire that decimated the old mead hall's stables. The accident had no casualties apart from a single horse, but Eodwine had been kind enough all the same to let him know that his daughter was safe.

He felt, however, that the more important things he should be aware of were hidden to him until he saw her face to face. He did not want to think that Eodwine would neglect to tell him anything he ought to know, but he could never be sure of his daughter. May it not be that she had managed to convince Eodwine to leave out significant details about her in his correspondences. Or worse, that she had somehow outwitted the eorl and kept her misbehaviour secret. Now he would find out.

Randvér was aware of the festivities taking place in Scarburg, but he thought his daughter would most likely be confined to her work. And so he made his way to the kitchen, wondering to himself along the way if perhaps she could have been forced to work during such a time as punishment for some misdeed. He tried to shut away the memory of her first day in the eorl's service, but in his mind's eye he could still see her bending over broken dishes, and shuddered to think that it still continued to happen until the present.

It was not, however, the sound of crashing earthenware that greeted him in the kitchen, but of two women chatting together as they worked. Neither of them was Ginna. He inquired of them of his daughter's whereabouts.

"Outside, probably screaming her lungs out while watching the games," said the older woman without looking up at him. He recogised her as the cook, Frodides. "You only need to follow the noise." Frodides then lifted her head towards Randvér. A look of recognition almost immediately appeared in her face.

"Much thanks," Randvér said and quickly stepped out, hearing Frodides exclaim, "That man, that man is Ginna's father!" behind him. He caught the noise of a crowd and followed it to its source. He found his way around people towards the centre of the gathering and searched keenly for Ginna, careful not to be seen by her.

There before him, to his amazement, was a sight that he could only be imagining. The girl had her back to him, but he could recognise the blonde hair, the deceivingly willowy figure, the proud stance anywhere. He ought to, particularly the last, for she had learned it from him.

The crowd of onlookers were too focused on the odd, unbalanced fight to notice him. Randvér finally chose an unfamiliar face whose eyes seemed to exude frankness. This, he surmised, could be a man who would tell him whatever he needed to know.

"This is an unfair match, wouldn't you think? But the lass seems determined to make it last. Pray tell me, who is she?"


Ginna

"You are every bit as much a shield maiden as our king's sister!"

Ginna said nothing, instead taking a few more deep breaths. "You flatter me, Harreld," she finally gasped, "The way I fought, no one could ever have mistaken me for anything but a woman."

"You speak the truth," replied Harreld, "because you're too beautiful to be mistaken for a man."

Feeling the sweat drip down her flushed cheeks and her long hair in wild disarray, Ginna wondered if Harreld was lightly mocking her. But looking up at him, she saw that his eyes echoed the words he had just uttered. She smiled shyly and suffered to be led by the hand back to the match.

She glanced at Degas, who stood a bit to the side watching Dan and Crabannan fight, with a look of intense interest in his face. Ginna felt very pleased with herself, having been able to stand her ground against such a strong man despite her lack of practice. Yet amidst the satisfaction she felt, she could not help hearing distant echoes of disappointment. Even in his absence, Ginna knew that Randvér would find anything less than victory unacceptable.