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It was not in Eodwine to accept an Easterling, let alone a Dunlending, at face. This Sôông aroused the old enmities of the War within Eodwine's breast. Yet there was clearly a bond of strong friendship between this man and Bethberry; and she was a wise woman. Such friends spoke well of the man. Looking upon him more closely, Eodwine saw in the man's eye and mien a peaceableness and courtesy. Well enough.
But Bethberry, leaving? And suddenly Eodwine found himself virtually appointed as the new inkeeper. He was at a loss for words. It must have showed, for Bethberry was clearly amused. Me? Innkeeper of the White Horse Inn? Possibilities suddenly opened out in his mind, of how he could add to the warmth and goodness that was already here, with decorations and arrangements to delight anyone who called the Mark home; and to cause wonder and enjoyment even for those who did not. But it was silliness to allow even a speck of hope for such a thing.
"Though the thought pleases me to replace you, but the King has already appointed me Warden of the Marches of Dunland."
"Speak with the King," Bethberry replied mildly.
Eodwine could not help but laugh, discourteous as it was. "Behold, the wise Eodwine who appears on bended knee before the King of Rohan and says, 'My lord, I cannot accept the Wardenship that you have seen fit in your wisdom to bestow upon me, for my calling is higher; I am to be an innkeeper.'"
"Nevertheless, ask," said Bethberry evenly. "I am sure you will know best what words to use."
And now Eodwine found his heart at war. There were two desires in his heart: one was the joy and peace and homeliness of keeping such an inn as this. The other was a desire to order peace and law in a land that had known only war for too long. He had thought of how it would best be done. Which desire was stronger in his heart? He knew not.
"Give me the evening and the night to think it over, Bethberry, and in the morning I shall tell you whether this is a matter to be brought before the king."
"Very well, a night then."
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