[littlemanpoet]

"This woman – she –" the unnamed man began, then started looking around, confused, until his eyes landed on Eodwine. "There!" He pointed. "This man sent his woman after me – yes! Don't you go sending your woman after me! If you have anything to tell me, come and face me like a man!"

'Horn of Helm!' thought Eodwine. What was this idiocy, and how had Saeryn gotten mixed up in it? Surely the fool had said other than what she had hoped or expected! No, she hadn't. He wagered that she had not thought this through at all, whatever she had done to rile him up.

All eyes were on him. He thought fast, allowing time to stretch, painfully, and did not allow his ire to show on his face. Were he well and not the eorl's counselor, he would teach this fool a lesson with a naked blade. He felt very, very weak.

How to respond? Don't embarrass Saeryn further than she'd already done to herself. Don't demean Athanar or himself. Treat this drunken fool better but no more seriously than he deserved. Ah, that was it. A slow smile came to his face, and he rose from his seat.

"It seems," he grinned, pitching his voice to the crowd, "one of our riders has been a little friendly with his mead cup."

Some of the crowd laughed, albeit nervously. Silence quickly resumed. One would have been able to hear a piece of dust hit the floor.

With a half smile he continued. "And my wife has been zealous for the honor of her husband's name. Can a man ask for more than that?" He grinned broadly.

"Of course he can," one man cried, "an' that bump on her belly says you already have!"

Now the men roared with laughter and Eodwine allowed himself a public chuckle. Once the laughter died down, Eodwine spoke again, looking directly at the man, with a broad smile on his face, but his eyes were hard.

"Rider, I don't know who you are, so I could not have sic'd my wife on you had I wanted to. I'll excuse your words tonight since you're drenched in drink." Then he looked at Saeryn. "Wife of mine, I desire your company here with me. Come stand with me, Lady Saeryn, and see what a fine folk have made Scarburg their home!" He raised his mead cup as Saeryn left the man and came to the table, for how could she refuse in front of the assembly? He knew she had enough sense to follow his lead in this. He gazed out over the crowd. Soon she stood beside him.

"Raise your cup, my dear." She did, and he turned to the folk. "A toast!" He waited for the folk to raise their cups. "To the folk of Scarburg!" He put the cup to his lips and drank.