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Old 04-11-2006, 02:39 PM   #209
Lalwendė
A Mere Boggart
 
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Join Date: Mar 2004
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Lalwendė is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Lalwendė is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Wultheof walked from the stables to the Mead Hall in the growing light. He was tired and moved slowly, and he coughed as he went. He had spent the night in the stables, as had Leocsley. Their job was to guard the horses through the night, a job they did not mind, nor did they mind camping out in the stables as it gave them a chance to have a bit of fun away from Larswic. There had been a bit too much fun last night as they'd got hold of a flagon of ale and had been up laughing into the early hours. There had been no chance to sleep off their beer because as usual, their day had started early.

The lad was not alone. He walked ahead of a tall, fair young man who carried a long sword and an older man who carried something carefully hidden in the folds of his threadbare brown cloak. This was a young and high born man of Edoras and his steward. They had come to buy horses in the earliest hours of the new day to ensure they got the first choice.

In the Mead Hall Wultheof knocked softly on the door of his father's chamber and the men went in. The lad sat down on the floor outside the door to keep watch, but he soon nodded off.

***

Fifteen minutes later, the door opened and Wultheof jumped up with a start. The steward was offering his hand to Larswic, but the horse trader appeared to be busy with something in his pockets. The hand was soon dropped. Larswic did not stop chatting to the younger man for a moment; this was who he needed to convince, not the steward. He had told him all about how fine his horses were, what races they had won, their lineage, their promise. Most of all, he had told him exactly who in Rohan owned horses he had bred, and the names were impressive.

The young man was not leaving with horses, only with the thought of them. No money had changed hands, and Larswic had done no deals, he had been most careful to avoid any kind of binding agreement, such as a handshake. He knew that this young noble would talk all morning about the fine horses and others would hear of this and come to the Mead Hall to speak with him about them. So the price would rise throughout the day, and by the end of it, the young noble would be quite desperate to have the horses he most admired, and would be prepared to pay even more for them.

Larswic took them to the door and wished them good morning with a nod of the head and a warm smile. They had been charmed by the man from Middle Emnet and went away feeling excited about the deal to come.

"Now lad," said Larswic to his son, who stood behind him, yawning widely. "how's about a good breakfast eh?" He ruffled his son's hair and then pushed past him back into the Hall.

Last edited by piosenniel; 04-11-2006 at 03:06 PM.
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