[Lalwendë]

Larswic smiled as he spoke to Saeryn and finally looked her in the eyes. His gaze did not drop now he had got over the shock of meeting a young woman with such a confident, masculine manner. He was struck by how attractive this young woman was, and wondered if she might be ready to be charmed a little.

“I should like a drink if there’s any in this Mead Hall as the name suggests. I could drink as much as a horse. It’s been a long journey. Though not so long as other journeys I have made,” he said, flashing a wide smile at Saeryn.

“My land is on the borders of Middle Emnet and Eodwine is my new Lord. A`Lord we did not expect, you might say.” He drew up his shoulders as he said this. Larswic's lands had now come under the control of this new Middle Emnet, a new level of control, and one he had not chosen. He had grown accustomed to running his affairs in his own way like many other men, and he was uncomfortable with the idea of new levies and dues to pay. There had been a lot of argument in the village, mostly in the evenings, around the fires with ale to fuel the talk. But even with clear heads the men were not all sure what would come to pass and the talk continued out in the fields and in the smithies.

“But I’m not here just to pay allegiance to a new Eorl,” he smirked and reached into his pocket. “I have business to attend to. Larswic of Halan is known for his particularly fine horses. And not only that…”

Larswic raised his hand and out of it fell a long golden chain with a small, thick square of gold suspended from it. The square was plain and highly polished, and it glinted in the low light. As it spun, it reflected their faces as though they were engaged in a twirling dance in a fire lit hall.

“Could be Orcish gold. Could be Dwarven. Who can say? Can you?” Larswic did not take his eyes off Saeryn, who was watching the pendant spin as though mesmerised. At his words, she looked back at him.

Larswic patted the pack slung over his shoulder. “I may have more of these precious little beauties.” He drew the pendant up to his mouth and gently bit down on the edge of it, as if to show the high quality of the god. He did not withdraw his gaze.


***

The wind had been taken out of Wultheof’s sails with the news that there was no bartering to be done. He had hoped to impress the ostler by his knowledge of grown up, manly business. He had a quick mind though, and soon found a new way to impress when he was asked his business in Edoras.

“My family are known for the horses they breed. Some of the greatest horses of Rohan have come from our bloodlines. There could be Mearas ancestry in the line, so my Grandfather has told me,” he gently patted the horse which stood next to him. Leofric could not fail to notice how gentle a touch the burly Wultheof gave to the horse; he had revealed that he was not always the tough young man he liked to be.

“But we are here to trade,” said Wultheof. His face brightened as he thought of something, and a boyish enthusiasm came over him. “One of the great Horse Fairs is on isn’t it? I’ve heard they have contests of all kinds. Will there be wrestling?”

Leocsley’s face suddenly brightened and he broke his scowl. He looked straight at Leofric for the first time.

“Archery? Will there be archery?” Leofric noticed that Leocsley carried a bow across his back. Both lads now looked expectantly at Leofric, as Larswic had promised that in Edoras, they would have the chance to compete in their favourite sports, to show the other boys of the great capital of Rohan just how strong and skilled the country boys were.