[Deorlin]

Deorlin drew a deep breath and considered Bethberry's offer. Yes, there was great urgency to make this report to Theoden, especially in light of this unprecedented raid right into the heart of Rohan. The audacity of the horse theives spoke volumes for the perceived weakness of Theoden's rule, and the growing strength of the enemies at their borders. But it would be impossible to relay all that he had learned, and surmised, over the last few months to a messenger to carry to the king.

"The only message I can give for the moment," he said through gritted teeth,"is for our king to look well to his borders and prepare for war, for it is coming. Throughout Middle Earth, all free peoples are doing the same, and the storm, when it breaks, will hit hardest those closest to Mordor."

Bethberry's face was equally grim as she listened to Deorlin's brief message.

"I'll see that the king is informed, and that you will make a full report when you return - which I hope will be very shortly." she said, the look in her eye bespeaking her thoughts about how the theives would be dealt with once the posse caught up with them.

Deorlin had little stomach for food, but managed to swallow a good amount of that set before him, knowing that it might be some time before they would break their pursuit to eat again. Although tall and muscular, the young Rohirrim had trained himself not to be too concerned about where and when he ate. But he knew the wisdom of filling his belly when he had the chance. As soon as he had gulped down his share, he went outside to look over the several horses which had been brought into the stable yard, loans from those who wished to help but could not be part of the posse themselves.

All the proffered mounts were excellent horses, but Deorlin's eye was drawn to a big boned chestnut gelding. He had a rough head, but a bright, bold eye, and a good broad chest, a sign of endurance. Willing himself to be calm, he walked quietly to the gelding's side, extending his hand to stroke its neck.

"What's this one's name?" Deorlin vaguely recognised the middle aged man holding the reins of the bridle.

"Why, 'tis Deorlin, Deorwine's son, is it not? Do you remember me, master? Aeric, I'm called. I was in service to your father's friend, Ceorl, also of the Westfold. But now I'm here in Edoras, with Ceorl's son. Tis he who sent this one, and a finer mount you couldn't find in all of Rohan, save for the mearas." The man chuckled. "Sami, that's his name. For fire is his coat, and so's his spirit. He'll carry you to the ends of the earth, if you ask him too. Not that it will take so long to catch up with those slinking thieves. I hope you'll put that sword of yours to good use when you do find them." The smile had run away from Aeric's face.

"Yes, took my own horse, Frey." The tone of Deorlin's voice left no doubt of how he intended to dole out justice to the thieves.

"Sami, a good name!" Deorlin grinned once more, the thought of pursuit and a good fight at the end not unwelcome at all to the warrior. "I'll take good care of him. Tell your master many thanks for his use. We'll be back soon." There was an emphasis on the last word.

Taking the reins, he led Sami to the front of the inn to await the others in the posse. He nodded his head slightly to a petite woman holding onto the reins of a placid grey horse. Was she intending to come with them? He snorted slightly through his nose - how could one so small be of use when they caught up with the theives and it came time to fight? Perhaps she was just holding the horse for another, hopefully someone pretty large from the looks of the saddle on the horse's back. He turned to seeing to his own tack, making sure all was secure and well fitting, while he waited for Aelfritha and the others.

[ December 31, 2002: Message edited by: Deorlin ]

[ January 03, 2003: Message edited by: Deorlin ]

[ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: Deorlin ]