[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine

"Ginna, tell me how it is with you. How is Harreld?"

The eyes of all the women in the kitchen turned towards Ginna, surprised and then sympathetic. She felt her face growing hot, and a sinking feeling in her stomach as though she had been punched. This was a question she expected, but not here and now. Lord Eodwine, she wanted to say, have you absolutely no sense of subtlely? She suppressed these thoughts with a self-conscious swallow.

"I suppose he's well, uh-" she realised she still did not know how to address him, and left the sentence hanging. "I haven't seen much of him these past weeks. Busy with his work and helping Garreth settle, I suspect."

Eodwine stared at her for a moment, shocked. Lovers make time for each other, sometimes no matter what the cost, he thought. Things were not well between them? He would have to ask Saeryn ... well, not until things were made right between them. He would talk with Ginna alone, later, about that.

"So Garreth is here now too. That is good news. No doubt there is more than enough work for both of them now that Scarburg has twice the warriors. But-" He was about to ask her how she was, but if things were not well between her and Harreld, it would also be a difficult question. "So tell me how things are at Scarburg as you see it from the kitchen."

Ginna gently exhaled in relief that Eodwine chose not to pursue the topic of Harreld further, at least for the meantime. When he next asked her about him, she would be prepared. Perhaps prepared even for what she would ask of Eodwine. She wondered if it would be better to have that conversation with Harreld present. She set the thought aside.

"We hardly even take our eyes off of the kitchen, there's simply too much work to be done here," Frodides replied with a look at Ginna, who smiled at her gratefully. "But since we have not heard news of brawlings or shouting matches, perhaps things have become more peaceful since Athanar arrived."

A small silence settled. Modtryth's mind had been elsewhere - Saeryn's follies, and where had she run off to, if the boys were still trying to catch fish with their bare hands or do something about as idiotic, Bema only knew how big part of the day she had spent stopping them from even more tomfoolery than on an average day - but now she was there. She hated to be the stromcrow, but Eodwine needed the truth.

"Lord Eodwine," she said. "Not all has been well, I'm afraid. There was much strife between Lord Athanar's folk and yours in the beginning - I don't know if you know, but Erbrand and Lithor are gone after Erbrand stabbed one of Athanar's men. Lots of smaller conflicts too, starting from Javan hitting Lord Athanar's daughter. It was a mess... it's been more peaceful for the last month or so, everybody's getting settled in, and I reckon the trouble with the landlords is past too. And of course, week by week this place becomes more like a proper meadhall, although there is still much to do, most notably the sheep don't have a place yet." She stopped, quite out of breath. Modtryth was a quiet woman, not used to talking so much at once, especially not to high lords, even high lords as amiable as Lord Eodwine.

Eodwine smiled. "Some of what you say is known to me, Modtryth. I must ask you not to call me 'lord' anymore, for I no longer hold the title, and I am not your eorl. I am your friend. I hope that is enough."

Rowenna

She had walked with Eodwine and Saeryn to Athanar, where she had spotted a familiar face; her gut wrenched. The last dealing she had had with the owner of that face had been a tongue lashing in her rage. She could almost feel the sting in her palm from having slapped him so hard.

Nydfara.

She kept her eyes on Eodwine as he knelt and offered his sword and aid, which was not quite accepted by the new eorl. This much she noticed.

But she could not get Nydfara out of her head. There was that same pull she had felt before, and she knew why it was there. There was that something about him that put her in mind of her two years with the brigands. It had been a hard life and she had been unfairly used by them; yet there had been something about the life that she had loved. It had been adventurous; she had had to keep her wits about her and had learned the subtle use of her womanhood in that hard life. She had become adept at getting them to do her bidding without them quite realizing it was her will they were following. It had been a heady experience. She felt it calling to her again, just by being near Nydfara.

She had also become embittered and deeply wounded during those two years, and she knew deep down that any talk or dealings or more with Nydfara would likely send her back into that. She did not want it; she wrestled down the vixen in her nature and paid Nydfara not the least attention.

When Saeryn and Eodwine had gone to their rooms, Rowenna had gone to the stables to help with the mounts, and then was shown to the room she would call her own. She put away her things and made the little room her own, as much as could be done in a short time, and then went to the Hall.

Most everyone was gathered and talking in big groups or small. Not surprisingly, a lot of the talk was about Eodwine. Where was Falco? Nowhere to be seen in the Mead Hall? How odd. She wondered where he was. With a quick glance she saw Nydfara at the end of one of the tables where the men sat. She passed by without a glance and made her way to the women, and Eodwine. Saeryn was not in the Hall.

Eodwine had just finished speaking when she arrived. She greeted the women and turned to Eodwine. "Where is Lady Saeryn, Eodwine? I would speak with her."

"She is in our room, I think," he answered. He still did not look well, and his face seemed more pinched just then, speaking of his wife. "Go see her if you like. It has been a long time since you have had a chance to talk to each other."