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Bregoware
After Meghan’s song, everyone was awake. The melody was catchy, and quite soon Sythric noted humming it by himself, whilst tending for Thydrë. He packed his things, but did not just yet load them on his friend. “Remember, I promised you a good night’s sleep this night, and I surely keep that promise. Just this day to carry on.” He whispered to her. Then he raised his voice a bit “Come to drink my friend!”, simultaneously he pulled gently from her reins and started walking towards the little stream that was running nearby. Thydrë followed him.
After Sythric had drank enough, he patted Thydrë to show her, that it was her own choice now, what to do next. They were ready, and they both knew that. They had been riding together for six years now, and had started to understand each others’ ways little by little, as it happens. Thydrë stayed by the stream, watching the other horses curiously.
Sythric came to the fire relit by Raedwald. Just as he was addressing the people around the fire a good morning, he saw a drawing in the sand, next to the fireplace. He stopped and studied the picture for a while. He smiled a little, and then, as he had just got an idea, walked briskly to his packings. He unpacked some of his stuff, and then came back to the fireside.
“Well. In the riding-parties, there is this old custom, that the newcomer will have to offer a meal with drinks to the seniors. So taste this dried lamb here: it’s straight from March-warden’s cellars! Carve as much you will.” He offered the lamb to Raedwald, who was sitting nearest to him. Then he produced his wineskin, offering it to Meghan sitting by the fire. “And the drink too. It’s not the best wine there is, but warms your blood a little after a cold night. I’m sorry, I can’t make offerings more lavish than these, for this seems to be the rate of splendour I have with me.”
He looked at everyone around the fire and smiled lightly. “It’s going to be a fine day, the gloom of our ride notwithstanding.”
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