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Legate of Amon Lanc · 12-10-2010, 03:47 PM

Hilderinc had been lost in thought for most of the journey, he barely registered the chatter of the few soldiers and the "stablemaster". It was a good thing to see; the soldiers, or at least some of them, seemed to start getting along together well. Hilderinc's mind, however, was now mostly focused on the upcoming confrontation. The local landholders, at least according to the rumours, seemed to be the kind of people who preferred to keep their own and they could cause trouble unless they were put in their proper place by some supreme authority supported by strong arguments. It was only Hilderinc's conclusion based on what he had heard, but his rich experiences with various masters included also the kind of people he expected the three landlords to be. In fact, now as they rode, he remembered that more than eight years ago, he had been passing through this area as part of a small group of soldiers and he remembered that sometime during the day they have stopped at a farmstead which, to him, back then resembled more a small fortress. It was a vague recollection, though, and things might have changed meanwhile. Still, some rich landholders seemed to have these delusions of grandeur.

A shout of the "stablemaster" suddenly interrupted his thoughts. "Hold up! Hold up!" Trained to immediate response, Hilderinc quickly stopped his chestnut horse and turned him around, hand on the sword's hilt. But he immediately saw that the boy's shout was not anything akin to warning against an ambush, not by the least.

"That's master Falco!"

Hilderinc could not prevent a very distinct expression of surprise from appearing in his face.

"A Holbytla?" he almost shouted. As any Eorlinga, he had heard even stories about this strange folk from time to time appearing in the Mark, but he had never seen a live one before. Here it was, straight from the tales. He did not put his hand away from the hilt, but gripped it even more tightly and frowned.

"And the boy knows him? What is this about?" he muttered, but loud enough for all those around to hear him.

12-10-2010, 03:47 PM	#834
Legate of Amon Lanc A Voice That Gainsayeth Join Date: Nov 2006 Location: In that far land beyond the Sea Posts: 7,431	Hilderinc had been lost in thought for most of the journey, he barely registered the chatter of the few soldiers and the "stablemaster". It was a good thing to see; the soldiers, or at least some of them, seemed to start getting along together well. Hilderinc's mind, however, was now mostly focused on the upcoming confrontation. The local landholders, at least according to the rumours, seemed to be the kind of people who preferred to keep their own and they could cause trouble unless they were put in their proper place by some supreme authority supported by strong arguments. It was only Hilderinc's conclusion based on what he had heard, but his rich experiences with various masters included also the kind of people he expected the three landlords to be. In fact, now as they rode, he remembered that more than eight years ago, he had been passing through this area as part of a small group of soldiers and he remembered that sometime during the day they have stopped at a farmstead which, to him, back then resembled more a small fortress. It was a vague recollection, though, and things might have changed meanwhile. Still, some rich landholders seemed to have these delusions of grandeur. A shout of the "stablemaster" suddenly interrupted his thoughts. "Hold up! Hold up!" Trained to immediate response, Hilderinc quickly stopped his chestnut horse and turned him around, hand on the sword's hilt. But he immediately saw that the boy's shout was not anything akin to warning against an ambush, not by the least. "That's master Falco!" Hilderinc could not prevent a very distinct expression of surprise from appearing in his face. "A Holbytla?" he almost shouted. As any Eorlinga, he had heard even stories about this strange folk from time to time appearing in the Mark, but he had never seen a live one before. Here it was, straight from the tales. He did not put his hand away from the hilt, but gripped it even more tightly and frowned. "And the boy knows him? What is this about?" he muttered, but loud enough for all those around to hear him.