[Folwren]

The hall had quieted. People had returned to their dinners and conversations were flowing freely now among the people at the tables. Good. Perhaps they were somewhat at their ease. Thornden glanced at Saeryn. She and Degas were speaking to each other. She looked more at ease now that she had spoken her piece and gotten a positive reaction from the people.

Athanar had asked Thornden to speak, but now that it came to it, Thornden did not want to. Even if the others had already recovered from Lithor’s humiliation, he had not. Responsibility hung heavy on his shoulders still, and despite the conscious realization that he really had no part in what had happened, he could not rid himself of the feeling of guilt. His plate was cleared and instead of getting seconds as he very likely would have at any other time, he quietly excused himself to his neighbors and departed from the table and hall.

Briefly he stepped into the guardroom to see if Lithor had gone there. He was no where to be seen, so after Thornden snatched up a cloak, he went out into the courtyard to find him.

A hard frost crunched under his boots as he walked out. He drew the neck of the cloak tight about his throat and watched as his breath went up in a cloud of smoke past the torchlight. Before he could begin to form of a plan of how to search for Lithor, the person in question came round the corner of the stables, walking quickly and in agitation. Thornden strode swiftly to intercept his path and stopped him with a word.

“Lithor?”

He stopped wide eyed as Thornden approached. The torchlight lit up his face, showing the depth of his confusion and surprise but kept Thornden's face a dark silhouette. The silence in the air was now pierced by the eery sound of distant howling. Neither could tell if it was the wind or wolves. Which ever it was, it made for an uncomfortable and foreboding feeling inside Lithor's heart.

"At your service." Lithor bowed as he said this. "Your presence is a surprise," he paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "But it was not entirely unexpected. What is your purpose with me?" It was a dumb question, but one that needed to be asked. Lithor did not know what Thornden thought about his outburst and whether the rebuke that was sure to follow would be soft or hard.

“I wanted to find out where you had gone, to make sure you did yourself no harm, mostly,” Thornden said. He looked at Lithor and regretted that his presence should cause such discomfort in him. “You have nothing to fear from me, Lithor. I have not changed with the coming of lord Athanar. I will guess that I was as surprised as you when he became so angry with you.” His words stalled briefly, for he knew not how to go on.

“However,” he finally said, “what has happened cannot be changed. I expect Athanar to ask of me what should be done to you, and I really have no answer for him. I think you know best where you strayed from propriety, and I wanted to ask you what you think would be the most fair punishment. I do not want you to think that I want you punished, or that I wish to do so unfairly. In truth, Lithor, I believe that were it up to me alone, I would let even your rash words there at the end pass with only a warning. But,” he said, looking back towards the lighted hall, “Athanar felt that he had already been insulted. Those final words were the final straw, I think.”

"Just as the accusation of treason was the last straw for me. I know I have nothing to fear from you, Thornded, so long as I am obedient. And I must say that your offer for me to pass judgement on myself would be like offering the condemned man a choice between a slow or short death-- death will come despite the choice!" Lithor was not angry with Thornden at all, but he was very dissapointed. He thought that Thornden would have known better.

"You are not going to be killed," Thornden said, his voice sharp, not from anger with Lithor, but perhaps with doubt that suddenly attacked him. "I will not back Athanar in such a choice."

"Think with your head, Thornden!" Lithor tapped his temple with vigor. "Learn from what has happened. Lady Saeryn has been ousted from her position by Athanar and he is using me as an example for unquestioning obedience. Did you not see the contempt in his eyes when he looked at you? My action has reflected on your command and right now, to Athanar, it looks very poor. Athanar will do with me what Athanar will do me, your intercedence on my behalf will only make it worse for you and Scarburg." Lithor ended his speech on a grim thought. A silence fell between them.

"I did not mean to sound so forceful, master Thornden." Lithor sounded a bit more timid now, he bowed courteously. "You were right when you said you have not changed, but the fact is that everything has changed. I am old, too old to change and that is one of the reasons why the argument was brought on. But you," Lithor stepped closer to Thornden. The man was more like a boy to Lithor, to think that if Lithor had married his son would be Thornden's age. Lithor had great hope in the younger generation and what he was about to say he could see as clearly as the expression on Thornden's face.

"But you," he began again, "you are young, master Thornden, and you have a great level of prominence in the old Scarburg, which has now been transported to the new Scarburg. Athanar respects you, even if it is little. Don't give him any reason to betray that trust. When Eodwine returns the shift may be very difficult, we will need people who are respected on both sides. And (the Vala forbid it!) if Eodwine does not return you must lead Scarburg to renew the seat to its rightful heir: Saeryn, and later her son! If I have not made myself clear thus far, then in short I am asking you to change with the times. Do not abandon your principles (which a man like you would never do), but co-operate with Athanar and his men."

Lithor was no longer asking or advising Thornden, he was pleading with him. As sure as the stars in the heavens sometimes fall, he was sure that Thornden would one day rise, but it had to be with the rightful heir of Eodwine. Thornden was dutiful and Lithor was sure that he had said nothing that Thornden had not thought over a hundred times; however, sometimes things are clearer when spoken and easier to do if friends support it.

Thornden felt uneasy. He shifted on his feet, and finally forced himself to break from Lithor's gaze. Of course he would cooperate with Athanar and his men, but to do so at the expense of one of Eodwine's men? Not so! That would be to turn his back on more than his principles. That would be to turn his back on his friends, and in effect on Eodwine and Saeryn, both to whom he had sworn fealty.

“Perhaps you have read my position wrong, Lithor,” he said, quietly. How could he say what he had to say, and appear not to be talking badly behind Athanar’s back? He had no wish to strengthen whatever ill thoughts or feelings Lithor had against the new eorl. “I will follow and obey Athanar as far as I am able, but I will not stand by and watch a man innocent of treason be punished for it. I will stand between him and you, even if it means that he will break me while passing. If I am to be brought down to the level of a common soldier, so be it. I was that not more than a year ago.

“But I feel certain that it will not be necessary. Athanar is not a cruel man. Hasty and hard he may be, but he is not cruel. I ask you again, Lithor, take the help I offer, speak to me, and tell me whatever you can that will aid me while I speak to Athanar. Remember, he offered you the choice to talk to me.”

"Indeed, I would rather say this to him in person, Thornden, you understand, but I know that the sight of me will send him into another rage. To tell the truth, the sight of him would do the same to me." Lithor laughed to himself. He wondered if Thornden caught the insult hidden in his words.

"You may tell Athanar that I am sorry for my hasty words. I am sorry for my insults at my better and will accept the consequences of my actions." Lithor did not know what else to say. He was indeed sorry for those things, but nothing more. However, it seemed a till short for an apology.

"Tell Athanar something else from me as well. Tell him that I am a soldier, and an old one at that. I have seen many winters and have experienced the rule of many lords. Tell him that experience has taught me reverence for my superiors and that prudence has taught me the proper ways in which to serve them. I had no intention of an insult of any kind."

It was a genuine expression of his feelings. Seldom did he betray the gloomy side of his heart and he did not wish to show anymore than he had to.

"I thank you for your consolment, master Thornden. It does my old heart good to know that I have friends who care for me. However, if you understand, I would prefer to be alone with my thoughts. I have a lot to think about."

"Of course," Thornden said, nodding. "I will gladly bear your message to Athanar. I am -” he paused, and looked again at Lithor. The man turned his face upwards, expectantly. “I am sorry. . .for what happened. I wish I could have. . .I wish it could have been avoided, and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you there.”

Lithor nodded. “You did grand job stepping in to save me.” He rubbed his chin in thought. "Traitor." he said trying the word of for size. "All my life, I always wanted to be somebody. Now I see that I should have been more specific." A good humored grin brightened his face. He bowed.

Thornden bent his head in answer and then turned to go back to lighted hall and the feasting.