[Groin Redbeard]

After Coenrad had generally dismissed the soldiers for now, Lithor and the soldiers of Scarburg huddled around each other (Wilcred, Osmund, Matrim, Balvir). “We are not going to let them punish Matrim, are we?” Osmund asked hotly. The instinct of the group was protect their own. Both had been wrong in the fight and it seemed unfair that any one of them should be punished again.

“It’s not that simple,” Lithor responded. “Your actions Matrim were unacceptable for a soldier and Athanar might want to make an example of you and Áforglæd.”

“I won’t shirk from reproach, if it comes, but you heard Áforglæd, his words called for someone to correct them!”

Lithor frowned and then turned to see what had become of the fight between the children. Thankfully some adults were on hand. “As they say, one ill turn deserves another.” Lithor pointed angrily at the scene between Coenrad and the locals. “How are we to reprimand our own children (by our Lithor meant Scarburg. Everyone claimed responsibility for the three boys) when we act little better?”

“Arrogance is fitting for a fool,” Wilcred said. “And much less fitting for those who claim to be our betters.”

“Let it pass. How are we ever to get along with Athanar if both parties act like they are above justice? It is our first day together with these newcomers and I don’t want any more brawls!”

Lithor was piping mad. He seldom got mad, but he could not stand the stupidity that had led to these circumstances. The Scarburgians needed to learn how to accept this new lord graciously. Likewise, the newcomers needed to respect the rights of Scarburgians and stop looking upon them as peasants to man-handle. Nothing was worse for a group of people than to be considered collateral for the success of an ambitious lord. Lithor did not hold any special rank now that Coenrad had arrived, stripping him of his second in command for the soldiers, but he was oldest soldier. More than once Lithor acted like he was in command and asserted his experience.

“Sorry,” he said a bit embarrassed. “I, uh… I didn’t mean to preach.”

“That’s a first.” Balvir noted dryly. At this, Lithor smiled again. Balvir’s grim moods always brought him more amusement than the liveliest court jester.

“What do you say to this, Balvir? After all, Matrim has been your friend for longer than mine.”

Erbrand

The bags had all been unloaded. Nothing was left to do now but sit and wait to be ordered what to do, but sitting around was not what Erbrand wanted. He had a lot on his mind. Maybe a walk would clear his mind. As he walked over the scar his mind turned to the pressing matters on his mind.

Oeric. So that was his name. What where his intentions? But Erbrand had already gone over those questions a dozen times over in his head. Now he had to decide what to do with the knowledge that Scarburg was being watched? His pace became a brisk walk as idea became clear in his mind. Erbrand did not like the thought of these strangers coming in and taking over, so he would postpone telling lord Athanar until after the celebration tonight. That is, if Athanar was someone to be trusted. Thornden could be trusted, but, of course, Thornden was a man driven by duty and might tell Athanar anyways.

Around a month ago, on the eve of lord Eodwine and lady Saeryn’s wedding, Erbrand had asked Stigend on how to impress a woman. In short, Stigend had to save his wife to win her heart. Since, then Erbrand had been bent on impressing Kara (his sweetheart), but to little avail. Erbrand was a clumsy man when he tried to be a charmer. He was a working man, not a courtier. As a leather craftsman, Erbrand could bend and cut the leather into the most beautiful decorations, the hardiest of saddles, and the most useful of protection but he could not shape Kara’s heart in the same way. He could bend his bow with great ease and pluck a bird from its perch at a hundred meters but Kara’s heart was a harder target to hit. Nevertheless, Erbrand still had not given up on trying to impress her. Maybe this Oeric fellow was his chance.

Erbrand started back towards the hall. However, upon reaching the top of the scar he came across a soldier. Erbrand did not recognize him and assumed that he was one of the new soldiers.

“Hey there,” Erbrand called to announce his presence. The man turned to look at him without a word. Erbrand walked up to the man and extended his hand.

“I am Erbrand and although I might not be the first to bid you welcome I offer it anyway. Welcome to Scarburg, sir.” The man looked at the extended hand and siezed it with enthusiasm. It was a very strong grip.

“I heard that some of our soldiers got in a brawl with yours. Sorry about that. However, it is only natural that there should be some slight tensions. It will all go away tonight I am sure.” Erbrand casually sat down on a rock. “It is not that you newcomers are unfriendly, that is, but we do not like strangers much around here. Lord Eodwine was a very caring in his rule over us and he will still have many friends even after this new lord takes over.” The man’s eyes showed some interest at this remark.

“What do you mean by that?” The man’s voice contained some curiosity in it. Erbrand had forgotten that this might be someone very important in the administration.

“Oh, of course I did not mean it like that?”

“Then how did you mean it?” The man was becoming more interested.

“Well, you see we are common folk out here in the Emnet, plain spoken, hard working, and down to earth people. Even lord Eodwine and our lady Saeryn are very humble when it comes to asserting authority over us and that might all change with this new lord, Athelwyne or Athelrod, I forget his name. We do not like to change once we have found a good thing and what Eodwine founded here was good. This new lord is from court and will doubtlessly bring his ‘improvements’ but we need no improvements. We are true laborers: we earn that we eat, get that we wear; owe no man hate, envy no man’s happiness; glad of other men’s good, content with our harm; and the greatest of our pride is to know that we are ruled by a just lord. We could say as much about Eodwine. What about Athanar?”