[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Hilderinc had not been paying too much attention to the rest of the journey to the first of the landholders. His thoughts have been mostly dark on the way, as if somehow the sighting of the holbytla was an ill omen to him. His face was stern, but if anyone had looked closely, they could have seen that he was troubled. He was angry at himself that he had acted so foolishly and could not restrain himself. He, a veteran amidst all the younger and less experienced soldiers, should have been the one to call the others to keep order; and not to cause that Thornden himself had to come back and what more, to rebuke Hilderinc himself. Hilderinc had very well noted the look Thornden gave him and he felt ashamed, it now looked as if he was but one of the youngsters who could not maintain discipline.

And as Hilderinc had been mulling over this inside his head, in some way, his anger with himself had also turned towards the holbytla, as he was the one initially responsible for everything. What was he even doing here? And once again Hilderinc was lost in thoughts, so much that he almost had not noticed that they were arriving towards first of the landlords' household until they arrived at the gates.

Hilderinc blinked, seeing the large hall and several other buildings. He heard young Quin by his side gasp, obviously surprised by the richness of the place in comparison to Scarburg. Hilderinc himself had not anticipated this much; his expectations have been that he might see something akin to it, but this place looked a lot... better than Scarburg. Maybe it is good that Scyrr is not here, he thought. He would have had one more reason to complain about the state of the Mead Hall. Hilderinc could well imagine that even some of the other men around him felt envy towards the inhabitants of this hall, even though Hilderinc thought such an envy was misplaced. The lavishness of the place did not certainly simply equal better conditions for living.

Athanar had called them to order and Hilderinc now did his best to straighten himself up in the saddle and to bear the banner of his lord raised loftily - just like he did on the day of their arrival to Scarburg. Each of the men tried to bear himself proudly, magnifying the appearance of their lord, as if they wanted to remedy for the bit of disorder during the encounter with Falco. Even the "stablemaster" seemed to try to fit into the ranks with the soldiers, as if he were one of them.

Occupied with observing whether the order is being kept and whether he holds the banner correctly, Hilderinc had not paid much attention to the folk in the courtyard until the moment when men began walking out of the hall. He kept his face inexpressive, but inside, he was surprised at the pomp which easily matched that of Athanar's arrival. What a showoff, he thought. I would not have expected this from some local land-owner, not by the least. Quickly, he looked at the expressions of his companions, and realised that some of them have been doing the same, but in a bit less unsuspicious manner. In some of the faces he could see uncertainity, in some eagerness and expectation. Like small children, he thought. They look forward to confrontation. Hilderinc knew very well, though, that the role of the soldiers will be most likely - or hopefully - to just stand by their lord's side and look menacing enough while Athanar will speak to the local landholder. Hilderinc trusted Athanar to be more than fit for any kind of diplomacy, and after all, his mere status dictated the landlord to submit. Later, of course, the soldiers will all take pride in his victory on the matter and merrily celebrate "their" victory in the evening. Hopefully.