[Palando]

Halasan looked at the body one last time as it was lowered into the ground. The father in him pained at the youth of his would be assassin; his face still only showing the first sprouting of hair, his body lanky and with much growing left to be done. But then a cold glint came into his eye. It was but a filthy easterling murderer! He smiled as Tunar struggled to cover the body with the loose dirt. Before the blacksmith had finished the woodsman turned and walked back to the camp.

******

Haleg spurred his horse forward to ride level with Halasan, who had been talking idly with Tunar about their journey.
“How are you holding up Hal?”
Halasan looked round at the Axeman, a brief look of irritation on his face that disappeared as fast as it had appeared.
“Fine, though I would be happier if we could add a few more miles behind us than in front of us!” Haleg grinned and nodded.
They had needed to stop earlier when Elenna had erupted in a coughing fit. It was not a welcome delay and Halasan could feel his patience fading as the day progressed. “Tunar says another day will see us to Cambere and Deriath’s trading post. By the Valar that Merchant had better be cooperative!” Tunar glanced round at the woodsman and then at Haleg. They had both noticed the threat in Halasan’s voice.

One more day! Halasan gripped the reins tightly until the anger had passed.

******

That night they built the camp fire higher than before, letting it pour light out over the grassy plain and spread its homely warmth. Halasan sat alone after eating his fill to look out across the Eastfold onto the jagged peaks of the Ered Nimrais standing like a mighty crown enclosing Rohan’s southern border. But as always his thoughts fell back into regrets and dreams about his family. His rash words from his last meeting with Catrina tormented him now, and the more he tried to ignore them the more he remembered. Unchecked tears falling slowly down his stubbly chin.

******

Halasan emerged from the main house, idly checking his bow as he walked, the bright morning sun light filtering through the ancient trees to give a mottled shade over his farm house and main court yard. Four horses were saddled and ready, on three sat his trusted huntsman, lightly armoured and bearing bows and short swords. Besides the first saddled horse stood a large, sandy haired and cherry faced woman. With her were two lanky teenage boys with cropped dark hair, his hair, and bright blue eyes that matched their mothers. He noted with irritation the absence of Catrina.

Gwen stepped forward and clasp his hand, a look of concern on her face. “Now you take care Halasan Corintha, ‘tis no holiday you go on. Those cursed goblins maybe leaderless but corner them and they’ll still show you the point of their swords. If there are too many, come home. Please!” Halasan tried to ignore the ting of fear in her words. He wouldn’t be gone long after all. Next he shook his sons hands, the fearless innocence of the young showing on their smooth skinned faces. “Now you do as uncle Kiatus says while I’m away you hear!” The boys nodded and smiled mischievously. “And be no trouble to your ma as well. Or I’ll throw you both to Orodruin for your sins.” The boys tried to give a serious look and nodded before running off into the field. Just then Catrina appeared from behind one of the store houses. She was flushed faced and her hair tussled wildly down her shoulders.
“You decided to say goodbye to your pa did you then.” Halasan said in an icy tone, then regretted it. “Go.” She replied coldly. “I care not! Don’t think I will grieve at your passing!” She stopped and crossed her arms angrily.
Halasan looked directly at her, furious at her tone in front of his men. “Mind your tongue girl. Never would I have dared speak as such to my parents. Your not too old for the belt!” His composure was cracking, his voice raising to a rant. For a moment Catrina blanched, then stepped forward again. “You could'nt catch me old man! Go. Go and find your filthy goblins. You won’t find me here when you return.” Tears streaked down her face as she yelled, but she ignored them and ran out into the field and beyond view.

Halasan looked down at Gwen, who stared back with a disapproving nod. “She has your stubbornness Hal.” He looked away. “Well she should lose it. It does not become a young woman to be so head strong against her father.” Gwen went to say something else, but her words were drowned by the clamour of hooves as Halasan charged his horse out through the homestead gate. Rising up to the main path south the woodsman turned and waved to his family, who all smiled and waved back, before yelling to his horse and charging off in a cloud of dust kicked up from the horses newly shod hooves.

******

The next day saw the group ride fast towards Cambere upon Halasan’s insistence. No one complained about the hard ride, they had all heard him cry the previous night and sensed the grief that he battled with. Two hours past mid day the riders topped a ridge to look down across the Eastfold at a small village that forded the snowbourn river as it spilled out into the Entwash; the wide river glittering softly in the mild sun light. The village was no more than a handful of houses with a large stone building at its centre, though a sizable dock protruded out into the River Entwash and several boats could be seen tethered there. Without a word Halasan urged Oakenmane over the crest and down into the valley, the others following close behind.

[ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: Palando ]