[Nurumaiel]

Leofan ground his teeth together in anger but remained outwardly calm as he strode to the Inn. Gomen had fetched Hearpwine's walking stick and given it to him, and then seeing that the bard was still engaged in conversation had returned to the stable. A young woman had come then, and she had struck him for no apparent reason. Leofan's blood had surged within him, but he had said nothing until the girl had left. And then he had comforted a stunned, sorrowful-looking Gomen in the best manner he could while staring at the horse the girl had brought. It was rather injured, to say the very least, and he was surprised that the girl had just left it there without speaking to him at all about it. Perhaps not everyone knew how good he was with horses, but he would expect one to have a certain amount of confidence in the knowledge of a stablemaster. She was young, however, and perhaps it could be slightly excused.

Her youth was no excuse for striking Gomen. The boy had struggled valiantly with his tears and had succeeded in keeping them back, but he had been deeply hurt. His first thought when he saw the girl was that she was very pretty. She had very large, lovely eyes. Gomen was not yet old enough to admire a girl with the intentions of perhaps courting her, but he could not help but admire beauty as he would admire the beauty of his mother or his sister, or perhaps the beauty of Aylwen or Bethberry. The girl had brown hair cut rather short, but which brought out the fair characteristics of her face and complimented her eyes. He had been standing there, admiring her with all his boyish will, when she had cursed him and struck him across the face. Leofan had seen the look of shock that swiftly spread across his son's countenance, and then change to hurt and sorrow. The girl had not given him another glance but had swept out of the stable.

She was standing at the bar now, a broken cup in her hand. Leofan did not approach her immediately but calmed himself a little more. He did not want to clearly show how uspet he was. He could not do much about the way she had treated his son, except speak to Bethberry who was temporarily serving as Innkeeper, and he was loathe to do that. He did not consider the matter great enough at the moment to cause such trouble. If it ever happened again, he would then speak, but for now he would grimly let it go by. He would not, however, allow the horse to remain unattended by its mistress in the condition it was in, and he intended to take her out even if he had to drag her. He doubted it would come to such extremes, for he had seen the look of love that passed in the girl's eyes when she looked to her steed, but he would surely show her exactly how careless she had been to merely leave as she had done.

"Excuse me, miss," he said, and as she turned he touched his forehead politely. "You came into the stable with your horse not five minutes ago, and I have not heard your name."

"Arrya," she replied briefly.

"Then, Miss Arrya, I must request you to come back to the stables," he said. "Your horse, I have noticed, is seriously injured and it was careless of you to leave him in such a condition. I am the stablemaster, Leofan, and if you need any assistance in caring for your mount you may ask me. However regardless of that, I bid you return to the stables and suitably care for your horse, with or without my aid."

*************

Gomen watched his father leave the stable and then slipped up to the loft, where he buried himself in the hay and let the tears run down his cheeks. He had been a stableboy at the White Horse all his life and never before had anyone struck him. The mark on his cheek pained him but it pained him more that the action had actually been carried out. He hoped his father would not return for awhile yet; he did not want to be seen crying. He rubbed at his eyes vigorously but it was no use. Helplessly he abandoned himself to his sorrow and wept.

*************

Maercwen returned to the kitchen rolling up her sleeves and looking rather mournfully at her mother. She said nothing, however, and began to wash dishes. Frodides pursed her lips and paused in her own work to study Mae carefully. Something was on the girl's mind; that much was clear. Frodides often worried about her eldest. Maercwen was old enough now to be attracting the attention of the lads and Frodides doubted the way she had raised her daughter. Suppose Mae married some wicked man who would not care for but rather cause her much pain?

"Maercwen darling, something is troubling you," she said gently. "You don't need to wash those dishes yet. Breakfast is not quite over and more dishes will be coming soon. What causes your distraction?"

The girl looked down in distaste at the rejected dishes and ceased from washing them. She glanced sternly at Motan and Mereflod who had been reaching up to steal some cakes while their mother was not looking, and they hastily withdrew their little hands. "Well, Mamma, I am merely disappointed," she said. "Hearpwine is taking Gomen out walking later, and he asked me to come along. I have already guessed what your answer will be."

"I would not refuse you for the sake of the walk itself," Frodides assured her, "but I must refuse to let you go because there is still work to be done and you are needed to do it." She gazed thoughtfully at the look of devastation that came to Maercwen's face. At times she wondered exactly how her daughter felt for Hearpwine, but always had Mae fervently denied having any feelings of love for him. She seemed to be quite in earnest, but Frodides could never tell if she were too much in earnest. "I apologize for denying you the pleasure, Mae," she said.

"Think naught of it, Mamma," said Mae, but the disappointment was still clear in her eyes. Frodides sighed and continued on with her work.