[Mnemosyne]

Wynflaed stepped back inside the Mead Hall and walked to her chamber, beckoning Saeryn to follow. She had been most helpful in giving Wynflaed a clearer picture of the Hall itself, and how it ran. She could already imagine the thoughts galloping through her husband's head as he sought ways to improve the Hall--more livestock, certainly, perhaps a weaver and a tailor, and certainly some sort of horse-breeding program! That is, she thought grimly, if we can manage the problems already given to us!

Still, Wynflaed was impressed with what she had seen. The Hall had its own blacksmith, and pigs, and plenty of chickens. It was not Edoras, but of course, Wynflaed had not expected Edoras.

Wynflaed opened the door to the bedchamber and invited Saeryn in. "I do not mean to pry," she said, "but I wonder if your condition is giving you any trouble." She walked to the small bedside table and picked up a stone crock. "When I bore Aedre, the healers of Mundburg gave me this. It is made from a root that grows far to the east, and is meant to settle an upset stomach. I found it most helpful, and have arranged to have a supply of it ever since, but I have not needed it much of late." She handed the crock to Saeryn. "I hope you will find more use in it than I."

"I thank you!" Saeryn said, a little surprised by the gift, so freely and naturally given. "It is a little rough in the morning, I find, but I think I shall get on quite well. Thank you." Wynflaed nodded and then went and sat down, folding her hands in her lap.

"Now," said Wynflaed, for she doubted that anywhere in the Hall would be more private than this room, "since you have been so kind as to show me the place of the Mead Hall, what of its people? I know I have already met most of them, but I should like to know the mind of someone who has lived with them. It is good to know who is dependable." And who is not, she added silently.

"As I told you the day you came, we have no truly bad men here," Saeryn said. Next moment she paused, considering how false that must sound after what had occurred the previous day with Erbrand, and even with Lithor. To fill in the silence and make it less awkward, she set down the crock of tincture by the door and then sat in a chair opposite to Wynflaed. "At least, you will find all of our craftsmen very dependable. Stigend and Garstan are both very skilled workers and are as respectful and considerate as you should like. Harreld likewise is a good man. He is quiet and apt to be shy, and he is therefore perhaps all the more worthy of trust. We hope very much to see an alliance soon between him and Ginna, in fact," Saeryn said, her face brightening into a smile. Wynflaed's face reflected the smile slightly and she nodded her head slightly.

"Leof is yet young, but he has done well as the stable master. Crabbanan is perhaps our only one who does not have one trade to call his own and who is perhaps not quite as...steady? as the others." She tried to cast about for a better way to put it. "He really does try to fit in," she finally said. "But I think he loves traveling and it is possible that settling here is not as easy for him as it has been for some of the others.

"There are the men-at-arms, but I do not know them very well. Besides, they are Captain Coenred's men now. And you have already met the women folk."

"And what of the children?" Wynflaed asked. "I fear that I already know Javan too well, but I have seen others throughout the Hall..."

"Cnebba is Modtryth's and Stigend’s boy. Garmund and Leodern are both Garstan's children. Leodern stays mostly with the women. She has taken especially to Ginna, but I believe Modtryth takes her under her wing when she needs a mother to look after her."

"And the two younger boys?" Wynflaed queried.

"They mean well, I think. Sometimes they let Javan lead them in a course that may be less than advisable, but they really do nothing more than boyish pranks, at worse." There was a slight pause. Wynflaed said nothing, for she saw that Saeryn still wished to speak, but did not know quite how to form her words. "I think, lady, that your daughter will be able to fit in with the children somehow. I heard that when they fought in the courtyard that day, Javan was trying to defend Cnebba, who he felt was being..." she considered her words carefully, "was being intimidated by your daughter's status."

"Then Javan has a trusty spirit in him, and he will go far if he can steel it with discipline. As for Aedre... I do hope that she will find fit companionship here. She had many friends in Edoras and I fear she was most unwilling to move here. I do not wish for her to become lonely."

Wynflaed sighed, caught up for a moment in some distant memory, then returned herself to the matter of business.

"There is one more thing," she said. "I could not help but notice the dark-haired cook--Modtryth, I believe was her name? Can you tell me aught of her parentage?"

A troubled and half suspicious look entered Saeyrn's face. "No. No more than I believe she is half Dunlanding. But she is from the Westfold, and she has Rohanian blood in her. Why?"

"Let me tell you a story. I had an elder brother, named Aedric, my father's heir. He was a fine rider, better with the spear than the sword, with a bold, strong voice for singing. My Aedre is named after him." She smiled. "He once... he threatened to geld Athanar should he ever cause ill to befall me. Happily, he never had to make good on his threat."

Wynflaed fixed her eye on Saeryn's, and as she continued to speak her voice grew hard. "Aedric was killed in the defense of the Hornburg, by men from Dunland. When the war was over, Athanar and I journeyed to Helm's Deep, and I stood on the place where he fell while a rider who had been with him told us how cruelly he had been slain. And I would rather lose all my titles, yea, and all my things, than let one of those people serve under me."

Saeryn's reply was instant, and her voice was just as hard as Wynflaed's, although a little more heated. "Modtryth did not kill your brother. Nor did her mother who gave her the Dunlandish blood. Modtryth has served well in this house for more than a year, and I will not see her and her family sent away."

Wynflaed pressed her lips together. Of course--she had married one of the craftsmen, whom they could afford to lose less than a kitchen hand, and they had a son--a quarter Dunlending, that--whom Wynflaed had already half-hoped would serve as a companion to her daughter! It had been years since she had let her feelings so outpace her that she had failed to account for the simple connections of family.

Not that she regretted her words--not yet. "Come," she said. "I spoke over-quickly. One cannot make a Mead Hall overnight, and even the best changes fail when not administered with wisdom and prudence. It would be folly to upset this Hall further while this matter of the lords is unsettled. Modtryth may stay until then.

"But this matter is not closed. I shall wish to discuss it with my husband, of course, and perhaps some others if they can hold their tongues. Her father, after all, was one of our kind, and so there may be some worth in her. But as for her mother--though she may not have killed my brother, yet still she was kin to those that did, and little love can I bear any of that folk for it."

Saeryn was about to answer when their discussion was interrupted by eager voices in the hall, footsteps fast approaching and then a rap upon the door.