Scarburg Meadhall

[Groin Redbeard]

Several of Thornden’s words struck a chord of remorse in Erbrand. He now realized that he shouldn’t have exploded at the soldier, which surely would not have prompted his scolding. Though for the most part Thornden was just in his tie-raid, Erbrand still resented the fact that the man laughed at him and thus prompted his heated response and then in turn prompted Thornden’s scolding of Erbrand for doing so. Doing the best he could, Erbrand restrained his intentions of striking the man across the face, and tried to respond as civilly as possible.

“Your words cut deep Thornden,” Erbrand said, forcing the words out with an effort. “Though I am sorry for raising voice against you, I am not regretful of my approaching you. As much as you have told me, you have no feelings toward Kara. Then why this magnificent speech, as if prepared or rehearsed on another, for such an occasion? Therefore, I repeat my threat: stay away from Kara!”

Erbrand was not yelling, but his words held enough weight and venom in it to cause Thornden to spring to his feet, ready to fight if it was the trapper’s choice. Erbrand had been straining himself to hold back a dam of anger he was feeling at the moment, and this caused the dam to break.

“I also thank you for your kind opinion of me,” Erbrand said in mock appreciation. “While it might be proper for soldiers of the eorl to insult a man to his face, it is not so where I am from. You, sir, are no less a fool as I am, not fit to put judgement on others.

“I will also thank you to keep your nose out of my private business,” Erbrand continued with outward disdain and pointing his finger at the younger man as if it were a weapon that he could stab Thornden with. “The affairs of Crabannan and I are no concern of yours, the events of this morning were unknown, as far as I knew. Have the lord Eodwine’s soldiers sunken to eavesdropping over their subject’s doings, or send their brats to obtain information for them? Your words of correction are haughty and befit a royal cub, are you also to subjugate my actions as well as my allegiance? Handle your situations in a way that you think best, but do not think of lording your advice over me again. Thornden might be chief of soldiers here at Scarburg but he is not a wise ruler of men, as is your superior. You may command my allegiance, but you cannot command my conscience and I tell you that I will not yield that right to any man, not to you, not to the eorl, not to the king himself!”

“Insolent wretch!” Thornden hissed under his breath, now as ready as Erbrand to start the fight, which had miraculously delayed itself so far.

“There is nothing I would like better than a fight with you, Thornden, and if not for the presence of so many people I would feign have already started one. I am sure that a “noble” such as yourself would not think of doing such a thing,” Erbrand wanted to wound Thornden’s pride, as Thornden had done to him, with these last words, seeing how ready the soldier was to fight. “But see, even now Lithor stands ready to begin the staff-fight. So I shall wait to face you in the games and deal a good manny damaging blows to you before I am sure to be bested by your superior skill.”

[Nogrod]

"Now hear, hear!" Lithor called the people who had spreaded around the one-time-to-be front-yard after the sackfight. "The quarterstaves have been brought forwards and the battlefield has been marked... Hear, hear! The next game is about to begin!"

Lithor gazed around and saw people gathering around while some others seemed still to be busy with their discussions.

"Let me call forwards the caretaker and the judge of the competition... Wilcred!"

There were applauses as the veteran soldier came forwards and turned to face the gathering crowd.

"Now my friends, Lithor here has other duties so I have been chosen to represent the authority around here. And my word will be the final word indeed."

Wilcred wasn't basically the entertainer or the smooth-talker but when faced with a duty he took pride in performing it well.

"So let me remind you of the rules", he started as people were pouring in around the flagged square the fight would take place. "Security first. Any deliberate hits on the head of an opponent will lead to an immediate elimination of that contestant. And if someone hits another to the head because of negligence or thoughtlessness, that contestant will be eliminated as well. The decision as to when that is the case is solely mine."

Wilcred looked around to see that everyone understood even if he thought a few of the contestants hadn't yet arrived. But he continued nevertheless. "Also anyone straying outside the fighting area is eliminated from the game. We have keen eyes reporting on that!" With it he pointed to the youngsters who were situated at the cornerpoles. The crowd gave a cheer to them.

"It should go without saying that if someone gives up or is knocked down so that he can't rise up in decent time he is eliminated from the game. But as we are having a friendly game and not any brutal death-match, three clean hits to the body will suffice for elimination of a contestant as well - if someone is able to take three hits in the first place without surrendering." Some people thought Wilcred was smiling at that point but it was hard to say.

"And anyone hitting an opponent who is down will be not only eliminated from the game but will face a further punishment from me - and I believe from all the other contestants, collectivily! Just remember the chivalric conduct in the middle of the fight. There will be bruises but let's not injure anyone. If you are in a position to deal a decisive blow to your opponent who is down just call it." Wilcred felt stupid to voice the last one but there were so many new people around both in the ranks of the men at arms and others he just felt a need to make the point.

"Could I have the contestants here then?"

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine

Eodwine and Degas had returned just in time for the sack fight. After they had cheered together with much laughter throughout, they walked side by side to the chairs they had occupied before, to wait for the quarterstaff competition. She had looked at him with a curious glint in her eye - one of the many things that had always kept him interested in her - and he had asked with a single word what was on her mind. Saeryn said, “I was just thinking how wonderful, if not slightly odd it is, that since coming to Scarburg your people have seemed to find their mates!”

"Not just his people," Degas interrupted, approaching from behind. "Remember that it was in Eodwine's halls that I met my Linduial as well. Perhaps it is something in the water." He departed with a smile before either of them could offer a retort.

"Nothing odd about it," Eodwine commented as they took their seats. "Here we have many unattached young men and women. What could be more natural than likely couples emerging? But yes, not only wonderful, but very promising. What I'm wondering is, what of Thornden? He seems a likely up and comer, and yet know lass seems to be quite the fit for him, nor he for her, whoever that might be.

"But just between you and me, I think that if our smith had not gotten such a fire lit in his heart for Ginna, I would have expected that she'd make a good match for our Thornden. What think you?" Before Saeryn could answer, the quarterstaff fight was announced and Eodwine was called upon to take his spot . "My apologies," he bowed, "I must be off. Cheer me on!"

Rowenna

Rowenna had watched Degas return with Eodwine from their private walk. She had wanted to speak to Degas again, but the sack fight grabbed everyone's interest and she let the matter be. When it was done, Degas moved quickly in the wake of Eodwine and Saeryn, then passed them by in pursuit of some unknown quarry. She sighed. Her words with him would have to wait. She kept an eye out for him as the games continued.

Harreld

Harreld laughed long and loud at the outcome of the sack fight, certainly not at Erbrand, but at the sheer spunk of Kara for pulling out the unexpected victory the way she did it. But upon second thought, he guessed that he would have fared no better had it been he and Ginna. "I dare say," he said to her, "that you would have caught me in the same way."

Ginna offered a smiling response, but her words were lost to Harreld's hearing by a sudden outburst before them. Erbrand and Thornden were exchaning hard words. Harreld frowned. He heard Kara's name bandied about by both of them.

"This is not good," Harreld said. "What ails the two of them?"

Then they both heard the now oft repeated threat from Erbrand: 'stay away from her!'

"It seems I must change my words. What ails Erbrand? But I have my answer already." He kept his answer in his head, however. He counted Thornden a good friend, though they did not get much chance to talk. The almbudsman was stout and true, and his courtesy was boundless. This Erbrand was behaving like a drunken lout. That Harreld also kept to himself. Then again, Harreld had seen his brother Garreth behave often enough like a drunken lout, but always comical. This was not comical at all. Harreld's brows lowered and he disengaged his hand from Ginna's.

"Excuse me, my lass, I must stand by the side of my friend." If Ginna offered words of support or fear, he gave no regard. He strode forward, glowering, and stood as tall and dour as he knew how not a yard behind, silently glaring at Erbrand.

[Folwren]

Thornden heard a step behind him, but he didn’t turn. His attention was locked on Erbrand. This had passed the act of folly stage. Erbrand’s words were intentionally insulting and meant to light any temper however mild. Thornden’s eyes flashed angrily, but he kept his mouth shut and made no movement whatsoever.

Behind him, a voice spoke out dangerously. “If you deal him treacherously in the games, once he’s bested you, I’ll do it again.”

Erbrand looked beyond Thornden at the speaker, his eyes sending sparks. “He may need your help anyway,” he said. Harreld moved forward swiftly, closing in on Erbrand with an unmistakable look on his face.

Thornden turned and interceded. “No, Harreld! Not here and not now.” He dragged him back by his arm and Harreld gave way. Thornden turned again to Erbrand. “You are mistaken, Erbrand, in what I said. I can not see what your intent or your fear is here. I will not fight you. Not now, and unless chance puts us together in the contest without possible avoidance, I will not fight you there, either. Now let’s go, and let’s not hear any more of this.”

[Nogrod]

"Now I would like to ask for our dear Kara to pick up two pebbles from this hat I have here to find out which are the the two first games today!" Wilcred said and people started cheering and calling her name enthusiastically.

When she finally came forwards Wilcred withheld the hat for a second eyeing the people around. "Now this will be a fight between pairs for otherwise we would still be fighting when the night falls and we have other games to come. And because we have six pairs, two of them will get a free ride to the second round." There were some scattered mumbles and grumbles but most people seemed to think it a good, or at least a tolerable idea.

"Now I have decided that Lord Eodwine and Thornden as the two highest ranking officials of this Mead Hall will get straight to the second round, as well as our veteran soldiers Balvir and Lithor. You know we older men don't have the feet of you younger ones any more and we grow tired after a lot of action... so it's only fair as these men have fought more than you younger ones combined anyway." People smiled and some cheered, seemingly accepting the decision.

Suddenly Wilcred met the eyes of Crabannan and felt a need to add: "Except Crabannan here, but he's no youngster either. Sorry mate, but you'll have to show your stamina here." With that he winked him an eye and turned back to face Kara.

"Okay my dear, pick two pebbles and give them to me one at the time." Kara did what was asked of her.

"So our first match is one between... Aethelstan and Osmund! ... And that is against..." He took the second pebble from Kara. "Against Dan and Crabannan!" The crowd cheered with anticipation. The two young soldiers against the two newcomers. This would indeed be a match worth seeing.

"And the second match will be that between..." Wilcred nodded to Kara to give him the remaining pebbles just for formality. And he indeed looked at the pebbles Kara placed into his palm before announcing the second match. "Garstan and Stigend against Harreld and Erbrand! The craftsmen fight!!!" The crowd cheered even more than the last time. It would be very interesting indeed to see how those respected craftsmen would do in a fight which wasn't exactly their homeground.

Little did Wilcred or most of the others know about what had just happened between Erbrand and Harreld. But the two looked at each other studying the other's expression closely. This would not be the easiest of companies.

[Nogrod]

After receiving their staffs Dan and Crabannan shook hands and wished each other good luck. “You wish to go for either especially, Drúedan?” Crabannan asked. Dan shook his head slowly looking at the soldier of fortune in the eye. “Let’s see what they do and act accordingly… Northener” he answered. They exchanged smiles.

“They will press on from the beginning so let’s just wait for their mistakes, I’ve been in a fight or two. Just don’t wear yourself down, let them do the work in the beginning.” Crabannan hissed to his companion as they walked into the flagged area. Dan nodded.

---

“Okay Aeth… I know what you’re thinking. And I do disagree.” Osmund took Aethelstan by the arm and drew him a few steps back as they were approaching the flagged area. “You feel bitter because of losing your third in command status to an oldie and you wish to challenge that Crabannan-fellow just because of his age. But you will make it too personal even if it wasn’t him you lost your place… You’ll lose your wits with him – and then you lose. I know you well enough to see that. Leave him to me and take care of the Drúadan. You can then help me finish the odd-warrior off if he proves tricky. I’ll hold against him that time – and it shouldn’t take you too long to be clear with that little guy.”

Aethelstan was about to protest but all Osmund said was painfully true. He nodded. “So be it then. Just see that you don’t take three hits before I take that weirdo out of the game.”

“I’ll wear him down, trust me.” Osmund answered. They took each other from the shoulder and nodded in agreement.

---

“Teams ready?” Wilcred asked after all four had entered the marked area. After receiving nods from everyone he blew his horn to mark the fight started.

As Crabannan had suspected the younger soldiers charged aggressively from the moment the horn blew. The staves hit each other in quick succession as Aethelstan and Osmund pressed on and the crowd had hard time to follow the advancement of the match for all the action.

After all the pressing Aethelstan finally managed to make a clean hit on Dan’s side when he was still a bit confused after making a great defensive move from the earlier attack. “One hit against Dan!” Wiclred announced. “And one against Crabannan!”, he had to fill in immediately as Osmund managed to glide the point of his staff forcefully into Crabannan’s abdomen after a lengthy struggle of wielding a staff against another. Crabannan grinned in pain but seemed decided not to care of it.


Aethelstan was clearly having the upper hand in his fight with Dan. The former third in command of the Mead Hall had really decided to show his qualities and he pressed incessantly over Dan who had hard times to just stay afoot not to say parrying the hits that rained down on him one after another. It was mostly due to his great balance and stamina he still kept on with the fight.

What was anticipated actually happened pretty soon. With his superior strengtht Aethelstan finally managed to pull Dan’s staff down with a quick jerk so that Dan was forced to lose his balance and he fell down on his knees. Aethelstan landed a mighty blow on Dan’s back sending him down on all fours.

“Second hit against Dan!”, Wilcred shouted and the crowd cheered for the performance. But Dan was not beaten yet. Using the short moment Aethelstan seemed to be a bit too confident about his victory looking at the crowd around, Dan rolled around and hit Aethelstan to the back as hard as he could sending him off balance as well. “First hit against Aethelstan!” Wilcred cried for the enjoyment of the crowd. It was clearly not over yet.


Meanwhile Osmund had kept on pressing Crabannan as well. And Crabannan had to admit this young soldier really had stamina to go for it attack after attack. He had been waiting for the lad to make a mistake and had just defended himself but it seemed there were no mistakes coming from his side – and in the end the lad managed to get through his defences the second time. “Second hit against Crabannan!”, Wilcred shouted as Osmund’s staff landed down on Crabannan’s shoulder with force.

Okay, this is it. This will not do… Crabannan cursed himself while regaining balance and trying to shut off the pain. I need to start fighting.

The sudden change of pace by Crabannan was met with awe by the crowd… and by Osmund particularly as he found himself in trouble he had not been anticipating. The old man had just somehow burst full of energy and dedication. Was this the same man, Osmund wondered as he backed away trying to parry the hits raining on him. “First hit against Osmund!” Wilcred called as Crabannan hit him hard on the side just plain outmanouvering him. “Second hit against Osmund!” Wilcred cried as Crabannan’s blow to Osmund’s chest sent him crawling backwards just concentrating on keeping the balance. The tables had been turned.

As Osmund struggled with his balance Crabannan went for the killer and waved his staff backhanded from behind sweeping Osmund’s legs from the ground and sending him backwards to the grass. And before Osmund had time to come to grips with the situation he felt the point of Crabannan’s staff on his throat pressing it gently but firmly.

“Call!”, Crabannan shouted and looked at Wilcred. “Osmund is called off!” Wilcred confirmed. “Please Osmund get away from the flagged area!”


Just before these dramatic moments Aethelstan had regained his balance and his focus was once again in a fight that had not ended yet even if he had thought so. But at the same time he saw that Dan had only managed to stand upright. So before Dan had any more time to adjust himself to the situation standing up once again he felt a heavy blow in his abdomen that made him howl from pain and just bending down from pain he felt a second blow in his back sending him down again. “Third and fourth hit for Dan, Dan’s out!” Wilcred cried and the crowd cheered wildly looking forwards to the remaining match of the titans.

That was a wish that proved to be short-lived. It was only that Aethelstan had risen his gaze from Dan when he saw Crabannan coming towards him – and the staff was already swinging. Aethelstan had no time to defend as Crabannan took him totally unawares. The blow landed to his waist and sent him tumbling backwards. The second blow to his chest just sent him backwards with more speed. “Two hits against Aethelstan!”, Wilcred shouted as excited as the crowd.

Just as Aethelstan realised he had fell to the ground he already felt strong hands taking a grip from his shoulders and heaving him up. Crabannan dragged him to the edge of the flagged area and pushed him over turning towards Wilcred, his eyes asking whether it was enough.

For a moment Wilcred seemed confused. It was clear Crabannan had counted it better than he had even if Crabannan had been the one fighting while he had just been observing things. Wilcred felt the red emerging his cheeks.

“Aethelstan is out! Our newcomers Crabannan and Dan will go forwards to the next round!” Wilcred announced and the crowds went wild with cheers. This had been some fighting indeed!

“I’m calling for the next pair to preapare!” Wilcred tried to shout over the crowd.

[Kath]

Erbrand

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“That is what I wished in the first place, but if you will not seek me out in the games I will seek you out and force you to fight against me!”

Erbrand’s temper had cooled since his outburst against Thornden’s first scolding, and with the coming of Harreld his temper lessened. Nevertheless, he was agitated by the smith’s prying about his private quarrel with Harreld.

“As for you master blacksmith,” Erbrand said, “I did not know that this matter concerned you.”

“This matter concerns my friend, you best be getting ready now.”

The smith was stern in his speech, and it wounded Erbrand again being told what to do.
For two long years Erbrand had been pitied or rejected for his solitude. This was not what he wanted and his temper had become hotter and his attitude colder towards his prying neighbors of Aldburg, Harreld sounded just like them and it brought those unpleasant memories. His fists were clenched as if ready to strike and resist the familiar words of rebuke. Erbrand was tired of being shoved around, but he still had the wits to see that he could only make matters worse by staying, so with a slight nod he left both of them.

[littlemanpoet]

He had meant to say "we had best be getting ready now", but somehow the words had come out other than what he intended, and before Harreld's eyes Erbrand became visibly angrier. This would not do. He was angry with Erbrand, but he did not dislike the fellow. Nor did he like Erbrand's threats and bullying against Thornden. Nevertheless, the two of them were to be partners in the quarterstaff fights.

"I meant we had best be getting ready," Harreld corrected. "What is your skill? Mine is not great, being a smith and not a warrior by trade."

Erbrand still seemed ill-disposed to him. Harreld sighed.

"Friend, though we have a quarrel, we must stand side by side in this game. Let us set aside our differences while we are made allies. What say you?"

[Eönwë]

The last few contests had not been good for Dan. He had not done as well as he had hoped.

First of all, there was wrestling. He might have stood a chance against some of the competitors but for his first round, he had to face a giant man, one who also happened to be the strongest in the camp. During his stay in the camp, he had had a few conversations with Harreld the smith and he struck Dan as a kind, gentle man. But from the first time he saw him, Dan had said to himself, I wouldn't like to get into a fight with this man. And now he was doing just that. To most he was tall, but to Daghan-turi-Dan, a mere Druadan, he was huge. As they entered the ring, it was obvious who would win. Being quicker and more agile, and dodged and swerved and managed to avoid being pushed out of the ring for a surprisingly long time. But then the inevitable came, and Harreld, with his far superior strength and weight pushed him past the centre. Dan managed to escape, but not for long, and he was dragged out of the ring. He had been no match for Harreld. No-one in this camp was a match for Harreld, he thought to himself. He was like a one-man-battering-ram. And it turned out that Dan was right, as Harreld beat Aethelstan, his next opponent, and went on to win the final.

Then, Dan had lost one of the two contests that he had hoped he would do well at. He was not as good at archery as he was spear-throwing, nevertheless he had high hopes. In the first round, he thought he had shot well, but for some strange reason, Lithor didn't check his arrows. Dan was too polite to say anything, and didn't want to complain on such a fine day as this, so he just continued as if nothing happened, though his mood wasn't as bright as before.
In the second event, he hit the target, but reprimanded himself for only hitting the outer ring. The only ones to get such a low score were the boys. No matter- there was still one event left to go.
On the third and final event, he managed to hit the target on the first round, but on the second he was eliminated along with a sulking Crabannan. He hoped he hadn't made too big of a fool of himself. He was probably just having an unlucky day.
He had suspected this would happen, but he was still surprised when Erbrand won all three. He was a fine marksman.

Then there was the sack-fight. The first round was probably the best event of the whole day. It was fun, and the crowd loved it. After a full ten minutes, Dan managed to secure a win by a whisker. They had fallen together and Stigend had hit the ground barely a moment before Dan. Harreld and garstan called for a rematch, and the crowd was cheering. To be, Dan wouldn't have minded to do it again, even if it meant losing his place as winner. However violent it probably looked to the crowd, all the hitting didn't hurt at all. But Lithor was adamant, and to be honest, he was happy with his win, and probably wouldn't be so lucky if he did it again.
For the next round, he had had to face Erbrand. He had seen his bold move in the last match and was ready for it. And Erbrand could see the determination in Dan's eyes. Whatever the result, they would part as friends, just as always. He wasn't using this to seek approval, unlike some here. He shot a quick sideways glance at some of the shadier members of the camp. In the end he gave Erbrand a blow that sent him falling. He looked towards Lithor for a second, expecting him to.... when suddenly Erbrand lashed out with his legs, sending Dan toppling off the pole. Erbrand then fell beside him. A smile broke Dan's lips- he should have expected something better. It then turned to a quiet chuckle, as he realised that Erbrand would battling against Kara next, and the thought amused him.

And then it was the next contest, the quartestaff-fight. As soon as he saw the size of the weapons, and felt their weight his heart sank. He have been strong for his size, but these were just too large and unwieldy. He preferred the speed of an axe or the elegance of a sword. And to make matters worse, he was teamed up with Crabannan. He hadn't liked the Northener since the first day, and had never really warmed up to the suspicious character. But then he realised that he had an advantage, Crabannan was tall and strong, and experienced in weapons of all shapes and sizes. After Crabannan finished off Osmund, Dan was soon out, though not without hitting Aethelstan once. Crabannan managed to finish off Aethelstan. He felt like hugging him, but that sort of sentiment among men was not generally accepted in this part of the world, except among close friends.
The next game wouldn't be so easy. They would have to face the veterans. He knew that they had something up their sleeves and it came as no surprise to him when they switched targets unexpectantly. But he was too slow to react, and he was hit. He tried to hit Balvir but he couldn't get enough leverage, and ended up swinging wildly, unbalancing himself. Then he was hit in the chest by Lithor, who had manoevered himself around and was now attacking him. They had switched targets. Dan flew back from the force of the hit. As he touched the ground he was hit again by Lithor. That just wasn't right, he thought as he lay there. It just wasn't right to hit people while they were down. Dan instinctively lashed out, hitting something soft, and only after a few seconds realised that he had hit the worried Lithor in the face. He tried to murmur an apology to Lithor but he was nowhere to be seen. When he had returned to full awareness he realised that Lithor was lying next to him, seemingly unable to stand. He wanted to help him up but didn't want to let Crabannan down. And as he thought of Crabannan he saw the man fighting a fierce fight with Balvir. And just as Balvir was about to be hit for the final time by Crabannan, Crabannan himself was hit from behind. He fell. Balvir and Lithor had won. The crowd cheered.

He helped Crabannan up and then, after the excessive cheering had finished, went to apologise to Lithor. "I am sorry, Lithor," he started "I didn't mean to hit you, but..." he trailed off, hoping that Lithor would understand.

[littlemanpoet]

The old man having gotten more than a scrap of meat from the unusually quiet cook, he wandered off toward the source of all the commotion he had heard from the road.

It was a quarterstaff fight. The crowd was cheering and seemed to be mostly relaxed, which meant that it was apparently all in fun. Well enough.

He could not tell which of them was the lord of the settlement by his clothing, and so made his way to just he outside of the crowd, where there were four chairs placed, two young women sitting there, speaking quietly to each other. Just as he was about to clear his throat and speak, they jumped up and hurried toward the games.

The old man shrugged with a grin and a twinkle in his eye, and made his way to the outside of the crowd, to see what he could see. So far, none had taken notice of him. He watched and waited.

[Nogrod]

“Please people, please!" Wilcred tried to cool the roaring crowd for he had some announcing to do. But all the people seemed to know already what he was going to announce and it seemed futile to fight against it. But he still tried. "Let me give you the second runners up! Let me give you Harreld and Erbrand against Thornden and lord Eodwine!”

The crowd burst into cheers - if they hadn't already - as the competants walked into the flagged area. Thornden and Eodwine exchanged still a few final words when Harreld and Erbrand were clearly already focusing on the fight.

“Go! … Ah, sorry…”, with that Wilcred blew the horn. It was the go. He was clearly not up to the task.

It looked like Erbrand was really yearning to go for Thornden but the two soldiers had clearly decided the other way. Erbrand ran for Thornden but Eodwine stepped between the two keeping himself between them even if Erbrand tried to counter his moves. Meanwhile Thornden made it from behind Eodwine to attack Harreld.

Harreld had looked at the peculiar dance and decided to make his move. Looking at the determination with which lord Eodwine covered Thornden from an attack by Erbrand he decided to make one himself. With a tremendous roar he went on after Thornden dealing a blow that would have stunned a wild boar but Thornden ducked the hit and turning around faster Harreld could imagine he managed to deal a blow to Harreld’s back sending him stumbling forwards.

“One hit against Harreld!”, Wilcred called and the people applauded.

Meanwhile Erbrand had settled with the facts and started seriously engaging Eodwine in a fight no longer searching for routes to get after Thornden. Erbrand proved to be a valiant staff-wielder as Eodwine only hardly managed to duck the shots aimed at him – and he dealt nicely with Eodwine’s counter moves. It looked like an even match between the two; lord Eodwine being clearly the technical master and tactician but the younger leatherman was quick and agile, able to parry and energetic enough to make lord Eodwine stay on alert all the time.

Suddenly the crowd went “Uuuuhhh!” And there was a reason for it. For while Harreld was going down he managed somehow to turn himself around while speeding his way down and to use the momentum of his body turning around to give a wild blow against Thornden. But Thornden was no newcomer in these fights and saw it early enough to just drop on his knees. The sweep of Harreld’s staff missed Thornden’s head and just blew his hair as he ducked down. That was close indeed. Harreld had clearly aimed at Thornden’s torso but his sudden evasive action had made it dangerous. But there was no harm done.

“No harm intended! Fair game!”, Wilcred called to underline the point. “But be careful out there!”

On his knees Thornden landed a blow to Harreld’s back leaving him face to the ground stunned for a moment. Panting Thornden stood up and pointed the tip of his staff on Harreld’s neck. “Call!”

“Harreld called out!” Wilcred confirmed. There were loud cheers of relievement.

Thornden turned to look at lord Eodwine fighting Erbrand. It looked like an even match. Slowly he crept towards the fighting duo. It somehow felt wrong to just hit Erbrand from behind. Thornden hesitated.

Suddenly Eodwine halted. Erbrand halted as well.

“You wish to continue Thornden? I’m quite old for going on too long this good a fight…” Eodwine addressed Thornden over Erbrand’s shoulder and smiled to his second in command. “With your leave, my lord…”, Erbrand needed no more encouragement but had manners enough to bow quickly to lord Eodwine before he went to Thornden. And the two were on each other.

If lord Eodwine’s and Thornden’s fight had been a good one, the one between Thornden and Erbrand really was one. The audience felt there were real energy and a battle of wills going on as well. Everyone was looking on and living with every blow given and parried. And they both really gave the audience the best they could.

Erbrand found new energy and performed some great improvised combo’s of attacks on Thornden but the experienced soldier parried the attacks if not with ease then with some confidence anyway. But Erbrand really pushed the limits and soon Thornden realised this was not something he could manage half-hearted. Erbrand was challenging him and he did it most fervently. Thornden had to fight this for real too.

The crowd went “Uuhhs!” and “oohhss!” all the time as the two dealt blows and parried one’s dealt by the other one. Lord Eodwine stood still, watching the fight with the crowd but just a few feet away.

Finally, after the most aggressive attacking maneuvers by Erbrand Thornden got the upper hand from a most unlikely situation. Being sent to his knees and only parrying from behind – just sweeping the staff blindly towards Erbrand – Thornden managed to unbalance Erbrand. And before anyone could realise he had turned himself around and made a full blow to Erbrand’s knees sending him falling. Before Erbrand had time to adjust himself to the new situation he felt a tip of a staff on his neck.

“Call!”

It was lord Eodwine who called the match, the tip of his staff on Erbrand’s throat now as Erbrand had turned around while lying on the grass.

“Lord Eodwine and master Thornden will go to the finals!” Wilcred announced. The crowd cheered even louder than before. As if they hadn't already shouted their throats sore for the games...

[Nogrod]

Stigend saw the old man emerging from the kitchen-tent from the corner of his eye while waiting for the second semifinal of the quarterstaff-fight to begin. He poked Garstan to the shoulder.

"Now who's that?" he whispered pointing the old man to Garstan as he turned to look at him.

"I dunno... Never seem him before... or... hmm... No. No I don't know him." Garstan replied after giving it some thought.

"Should we go and ask?" Stigend suggested.

"Yeah, we should, but the match is starting and I want to see how Harreld fares. Maybe we ask after the fight, or maybe lord Eodwine will do it himself... or Thornden? It's not our business anyway." Garstan replied and turned towards the arena. "Go Harreld, go!" he yelled and many joined the call for Harreld.

But Stigend thought about it differently. Lord Eodwine had asked him to be in charge of the Mead Hall with Thornden as he was away soon and he felt he needed to try the boots of someone who was in charge - and both lord Eodwine and Thornden were ready to begin their fight right now. So he had to go and find that old man out.

"See you..." Stigend said and slipped away.

The old man was closing on Rowenna and Saeryn and Stigend's heart-rate was going up. He had no idea where it came from but suddenly he was very concerned about their safety. Suddenly Rowenna and Saryn stood up and hurried to see the match and the old man was left alone.

Stigend approached the man.

"Hello there sir! I'm Stigend, the carpenter... uhh... the the leading constructor of this place... Now who might you be, dear sir?"

[littlemanpoet]

A man approached him.

"Hello there sir! I'm Stigend, the carpenter... uhh... the the leading constructor of this place... Now who might you be, dear sir?"

"I am a simple wayfarer, passing through, seeking food and a roof over my head - or at least a tent if you have no more - and offering my wares in trade."

The old man held his staff in one hand and nothing in the other, showing no signs of whatever trade he meant, but this was done on purpose. He would see how this man and these folk would react.

[Nogrod]

Stigend was raised well and he knew to honour elders whoever they might be but now he was just baffled with the gamling in front of him. Was he trying to make a fool of him or was he serious? What wares in trade he meant as he clearly had none?

"Excuse me sir, but I see little you have to offer as to banter like that. We have plenty to offer for wayfarers - and just quess how many we've got in here on these few weeks we've been here - but you do act like you were in for more than meets the eye. But why should I believe you? Aren't you just a stranger trying to gain from people trusting others?". Stigend eyed the elderly man with keen eyes but he seemed to stay as stern as he was and Stigend was already regretting his words; thus keen was the stare of the stranger in front of him.

"I mean what is your trade sir?"

There was a tremendous roar by the people when Thornden and lord Eodwine won the match.

"I do not wish to be rude but please sir, you can't count on me taking in whatever you wish without being a bit more explicit. And it seems our lord Eodwine is free for a moment so maybe we should just go to him?"

Stigend looked at the newcomer with a questioning look. "That suits you, right?"

[Thinlómien]

Modtryth finished her story the same time she finished chopping the rolls. She looked around in the kitchen and saw that one of the water barrells was almost empty. "I'll fetch some water from the well," she said. Frodides nodded and continued working on the foods.

When Modtryth stepped out of the kitchen tent, she could see Lèoðern playing with her bug outside.
"Hello there, Lèoðern. Are you sure you wouldn't like to go and see the quarterstaff fights?"

The girl gave her a quick glance, then shook her head quickly. Modtryth suspected the girl was a little afraid of all the noise and the aggression.

"You don't have to, of course. How is Master Bug?"

Lèoðern looked at her, slight criticism in her eyes. "It's a she. It is Princess Bug."

Modtryth could not help smiling. "Beg your pardon. I hope Her Highness will then excuse me for I am to fetch water now."
Lèoðern exchanged glkances with the bug. "You may go. She excuses you."

As Modtryth approached the well, she could hear shouting from the fighting grounds. She did not have to listen for long before she found out it was Lithor and Belvir and Dan and Crabannan that were fighting. She shrugged. Truth be told, she liked little any of the men - Balvir, she guessed, was a good man though, but rather too serious - and secretly hoped they would bruise some more sense into each other.

The water in the well was sufficiently cold, Modtryth discovered, when she splashed it on herself - such silly carelessness. It amused her mostly, though, and she hurried back to the kitchen. When she reached the kitchen tent, she saw an odd hooded man leaving with a plate full of food.

"Who was that?" she asked as she stepped in. She looked out again. "And where's Lèoðern? Surely not watching the fights?"
"The girl must have run off somewhere, she was there just a while ago. You know, children are like that..."
"Yes, and she would not run away anywhere too far, but I'd still be happier if I knew where she was. But who was that stranger?"
"The stranger?"
"The man you just gave food to."
"Oh I thought it was... wait, I don't know who it was." Frodides furrowed her brow.
Modtryth inclined her head. She wondered why was Frodides being so uncharacteristically inattentive. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

[Folwren]

The fight with Erbrand was not easy. Thornden had sparred with fellow soldiers of greater skill than Erbrand, but he had not fought someone who had been insulted and was angry. Erbrand’s strokes were full of ill intention and he rained them as thick and fast as he could.

In truth, Thornden had only taken the fight from Eodwine half heartedly. He had not truly wished to fight Erbrand thus, but for the sake of the games, he had accepted Eodwine’s offer.

The last blows came. Thornden, with some luck involved, brought Erbrand down. He had a moment to try to scramble to his feet to try to gain the advantage, but suddenly Eodwine called the final stroke.

Thornden rose from his knees, panting. He looked down at Erbrand a moment and went forward to offer his hand.

“It was a good fight, Erbrand,” he said, and waited for Erbrand to take his hand, hoping the ill will had passed.

[littlemanpoet]

Flush with his draw - for he had offered it instead of holding out for victory - Eodwine grinned and thoght to himself that now was the time for his plan to unfold. He handed his quarterstaff to Thornden and moving toward Saeryn took thought for his purpose.

But Stigend came up, his face full of consternation.

"Lord! There is an old man here," he indicated behind him with a glance, "who asks for welcome, but he acts strange."

Eodwine looked at the man who smiled and nodded in silent greeting. "How so?"

"I questioned him for I did not trust him right off, and he offered me this mallet here-" Stigend produced it for Eodwine's inspection.

"It seems well made."

"Aye, that it is, if you can call it that, but I tell you I saw him empty handed and then next thing he's holding up this mallet, offering it in exchange for my welcome. Natural it is not! See, there's no maker's mark on it."

Eodwine's brow rose. "Does he have a name?"

"He hasn't given me any."

Eodwine had Stigend bring the man to him, who bowed smiling.

"Good greeting. I am Eodwine, Eorl of the Middle Emnet and lord of Scarburg. How are you called?"

"I am called many things in many lands, lord," smiled the man.

[Folwren]

Thornden, Lithor, and Balvir were left amongst all the people who were still cheering and laughing about the matches. They were all being congratulated and slapped on the back and the three of them could not help but join the infectious laughter. Thornen finally shouldered his way through everyone and went to put the two staffs down. He turned about again, wiping his hands on his pants. There was Stigend coming towards him with a stranger.

“Thornden!” Stigend called from several yards away. Thornden nodded.

“Stigend!” He smiled and came forward to meet them. “Who is this?”

“A guest. His name is Eodwemer.” Stigend paused slightly over the name. “Eodwine asked me to bring him to you that he might be welcome.”

Thornden paused one fraction of a moment, wondering why Eodwine had not done what he normally did and make the newcomer welcome himself, but then he looked at Eodwemer and bowed his head. “Welcome to Scarburg, sir.” Eodwemer bowed in reply. “Have you traveled far?”

“Some would call it far,” the old man answered.

“We will find you something to drink, and a place to sit. We are nearing the end of our games, and we can find you a place to watch the last sport.”

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwemer

"The last sport? And what might that be?" Eodwemer asked Thornden.

"The sword fights. With wooden swords."

"What is the reason for sword fights? Are there foes nearby that you ready yourselves to war against?"

"No such thing! We celebrate how much has been done to build a new mead hall!"

"I see," said Eodwemer, nodding to both Thornden and Stigend. "I also see that there is much yet to do." They agreed somewhat reluctantly. "Maybe I can add a little of my craft to its building over the next few days, if you like." He eyed the two men, especially Stigend the carpenter, who was still fingering the mallet, to see what kind of response might be forthcoming. "But it seems something is up between your Eorl and that young lady over there. Mayhap we should the three of us go see what's up."

Thornden and Stigend looked to where Eodwemer gestured, and the three of them quickly covered the short distance to see what was going on.

Eodwine

Eodwine found Saeryn chattering happily with Rowenna, Ginna, and Harreld. He walked into their midst and looked upon Saeryn's face expectantly. She and the others stopped their happy laughter, and smiling, Saeryn looked up at him.

"Yes, my lord?"

He smiled, his eyes keen with his purpose.

"Lady Saeryn," he said loud enough for all nearby to hear, "I have something to ask you."

Her breath seemed to catch. "Yes, lord?"

Eodwine could feel the expectation rise among those listening. He did not kneel, for it was not the custom among the Eorlingas to do so. Instead, he drew a gold ring from his pocket, and held it by the tips of his fingers before Saeryn.

"Lady Saeryn, I ask you now if you will be the Lady of my house, in all ways. Will you be my wife, and will you wed me -" he paused "-this night?"

There was an intake of breath around the circle that had formed. Saeryn's eyes were wide, and Eodwine realized, of course, that though she had expected a proposal from Eodwine some time soon, and even perhaps this day, the final twist to his question was unexpected.

The air practically rang with the silent of bated breath as everyone waited for Saeryn to respond.

[Folwren]

Saeryn tried to catch her breath. For some reason she was having difficulty doing so. Her hand crept forward, towards the ring, her fingers slowly reaching out. Before her mind’s eye, so many things were coming and going. Perhaps this was something like dying, but it was all her hopes and dreams that she saw, not her past life, and the hopes and dreams were coming into reality, not being tumbled into oblivion.

She smiled, and gasped, a huge rush of air finally gaining entrance past her restricting throat. She burst into tears and instead of taking the ring, flung her arms about Eodwine’s neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she cried, hardly knowing it. “Eodwine, I love you!” It was whispered for his ears alone, even though she was oblivious to everyone else.

For sheer joy Eodwine held her tight and spun her around in the air, careless of the formalities of court. And just as careless of said social ordinances, he set her on her feet, drew her face toward his, and kissed her on the lips.

"You know I love you!" he cried.

The crowd whooped and applauded. A moment longer she stood there, staring up at him in adoration, and then she stepped back and wiped her eyes and laughed like a nervous girl. “Of course, I won’t have a proper wedding dress,” she said. “Or anything at all, for that matter.”

[littlemanpoet]

Saeryn laughed nervously. “Of course, I won’t have a proper wedding dress, or anything at all, for that matter.”

Eodwine had expected her to say yes to wedding him, but he was overjoyed that she had agreed to wed him this very day.

"You need no new wedding dress to give you beauty," he said. "And Degas and I have already spoken of dowry and bride price." He explained to her the agreement the two had made. "Of course it needs your yes before it becomes bond, but be at ease, my love."

She nodded happily, the epithet tacked on to the end of his words seeming to have a profound effect on her tear ducts.

He took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger, then held her other hand and turned to the cheerful crowd as she gazed at the ring as one in her own private world of bliss.

"My friends, my house, my folk!" They cheered. "Saeryn and I shall mold our paths into one and walk life's road together." More cheers. "First we will have the sword fight, and then we will have a handfasting to be remembered!" More cheers. "I need a lord's best man! Thornden! Come over here! I have need of you!"

Thornden strode up, looking pleased to be his lord's chosen witness.

"And Lady Saeryn has need of a bride's first lady. Saeryn," he said, "whom do you choose?"

[Folwren]

It was all happening so swiftly, and so suddenly. Saeryn had not time to think, otherwise she may have answered differently. Now, after she had made her quick answer, she did not want to change it. She did not care if she were married with no huge ceremony! Eodwine did not care if she had no special dress, and that was enough for her!

“Searyn.” His voice sounded like a warm spring day when he spoke her name. “Whom do you choose?” She had to rouse herself out of deep thought and feeling. She looked up and glanced about the ring of people. Ginna, standing by Harreld, was smiling broadly. Modtryth was holding Leoðern so that she could see. Rowenna was half hiding behind people.

“Rowenna!” Saeryn said. She extended her left hand, and the gold flashed in the westering sunlight. “I choose Rowenna as my first lady!” She smiled at her and invited her to come closer.

[littlemanpoet]

She watched as Eodwine proposed marriage to Saeryn. She had suspected that this was coming today. To see his delight in the asking, and hers in the answering, then to see their happiness, served as evidence that she had been right earlier in this day that she had never really had a chance to make him her own. Even as this twinged at her pride, she found that she was smiling and clapping along with the rest of them crowd.

Then Eodwine picked Thornden as his witness, and asked Saeryn who she would pick. Rowenna could feel her heart thud, suddenly fearing that Saeryn would pick her. She hid back in the crowd, hoping that she would not be seen.

"I choose Rowenna as my first lady!"

Her heart sank. The crowd turned to her and cheered. She kept a smile on her face and stepped forward with the help of those near her, prodding her with a hand on the shoulder or back. She looked to Saeryn, who was beaming, and she forced a smile.

She stood next to Saeryn and glanced at Thornden on the other side of Eodwine, and the crowd shouted their approval. She sighed and she smiled, and gave Saeryn a hug. So it must be. She would endure this, not quite sure now why she found it baleful, nor why her heart had been so against it just moments ago.

[Lhunardawen]

At Saeryn's declaration Ginna turned to Rowenna, who stood some way behind her, and cheered along with the crowd. She was a bit surprised that Saeryn did not choose Kara, whom she had known since the days back in the old mead hall, to be her first lady, but from the chat she had enjoyed with the two women (and Harreld) before Eodwine's eventful intrusion, Ginna was able to observe how comfortable Saeryn and Rowenna were with each other. There was no doubt that Saeryn had chosen her first lady well. As Rowenna passed on her way to Saeryn, Ginna gave her an encouraging pat on the back.

Ginna could not help being drawn to Saeryn's face. Her glittering eyes and wide smile exuded such a radiance of joy that Rowenna beside her seemed almost sombre in comparison. Or was she, really? Did Rowenna not want to be chosen? Or did she envy the bride's happiness, longing to be one herself?

Because we're not getting any younger. Ginna knew that both she and Rowenna were a few years older than Saeryn, yet she had beaten them to wifehood. Perhaps Rowenna could not be blamed if her happiness for her friend was tainted with her own sadness. At least Ginna had Harreld, and at this thought she reached beside her for the smith's hand and squeezed it gently. Soon it will be my turn, she assured herself, and released Harreld's hand to clap her hands with increased vigour.

[Folwren]

Saeryn, as happy and excited as any other bride, was not completely insensible of the feelings of Rowenna. As Rowenna came to her, she half regretted choosing her and forcing her forward so, for Rowenna’s expression looked as though she did not wish it. She had hoped to strengthen their relationship and prove that all things were behind them, but she now feared that perhaps it would work oppositely. Hopefully Rowenna was not jealous.

Saeryn embraced Rowenna in an excited but sincere movement. She squeezed her tight and then stepped back and looked at her. Amidst the clapping and approving crowd of people, she knew they had bit of privacy, for no one could hear their words. She kept her hands on Rowenna’s shoulders and looked at her gently.

“Are you alright with this, Rowenna? You do not mind?”

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

He felt warmth flood him at the look of sheer joy on his sister's face, yet at the same time he felt... cold. Distant. He felt the lonely tragedy of a poet in love, with the love of his life within riding distance, yet at the same time she seemed so distant as to be on the far side of the water, far away in the West.

He loved his sister, and he wanted her to be happy. He was joyful that she was happy, and to wed a man like Eodwine was as much, if not more, than he had ever asked for her. He would love her, and care for her, and they would be friends and partners as well as husband and wife. Saeryn would be safe, and she would have a home which was her home, which she presided over, in which she was so much more than a mere woman.

Yet that she should be wed this very night, when his fast approaching dawn meant telling his intended that their wedding would be, yet again, delayed, meant that Degas felt nothing less than envy.

Eodwine, friend and brother that he had become, would tonight become a husband. Again.

Saeryn would be joyous, would tomorrow and henceforth carry herself with the pride and knowledge of the depths of womanhood.

And tonight, and for many nights, Degas would sleep alone.

[Thinlómien]

Frodides gave Modtryth a long look. "Wrong? Of course not! Stop fretting, girl."

Modtryth winced. She, a married woman and a mother, was still sometimes called a girl by the old cook. She knew she should not mind for Frodides was her friend and meant nothing bad at it and she had been called so many so ugly names before... "I was just wondering," she replied. Frodides gave her another long look. Modtryth did not venture to guess what the old woman was thinking about. A strange, slightly uncomfortable silence fell.

Just at that moment there was a tremendous applause and cheering. Modtryth glanced at Frodides and smiled. "Come, let's go and see who has won the quarterstaff fights - surely you can leave your foods for a while?" Frodides gave her cookings a thoughtful look. "Come on!" Modtryth pressured, now grinning. "Oh, alright then, you win, but just a short while. It would be a disaster to ruin the meal for such a great day as this!" They rushed away, Frodides still sighing and shaking her head.

When they arrived where the others were, everybody had suddenly fallen silent. They could hear Lord Eodwine's voice: "Lady Saeryn, I have something to ask you." The two women exchanged glances. "Good timing, my friend - now it comes," Frodides whispered, and when Eodwine proposed, they cheered with everybody else. And they cheered more when Saeryn agreed, and even more when Eodwine shouted his love to the world.

"No need to get emotional," Frodides told Modtryth, who was, despite herself, actually wiping her eyes to her sleeve. Modtryth smiled at the older woman and she could swear her eyes weren't dry either. She started laughing. Frodides started laughing too.

"What are you laughing at! Did they do something funny? I want to see!" Leoðern sounded uncharacteristically impatient. Modtryth picked the little girl and lifted her to let her see better. She met Saeryn's beaming eyes when she looked around the ring of people.

"I choose Rowenna as my first lady!"

Modtryth cheered again with everyone else. It was a fair choice, forcing Rowenna to aknowledge her place in the household and forcing others to acknowledge her. When hugging Saeryn, she did not seem so happy after all. Well, not my business, Modtryth thought, and simultaneously, Where is Cnebba?

[Groin Redbeard]

Dancing! Erbrand felt like lifting Kara off her feet and dancing with her back to camp. Of course it would be highly irregular, but why not?

"Wonderful!" He joyfully exclaimed. Suddenly his arms lifted from his side and swiftly, yet gently, seized Kara and lifted her off the ground. Together, they twirled three times with Kara looking down on him. Erbrand laughed and wished that he could keep her staring down on him forever in this fashion forever; Kara floated majestically in the sky as if she were some transfixed goddess. However, Erbrand soon relinquished his hold on Kara and slowly let her down. For a moment, which seemed much longer than it was, Erbrand thought he could guess what Kara was thinking by looking into her deep blue eyes.

"Then, most gracious lady Kara," Erbrand was wearing a broad grin and bowing low. "I most humbly offer my arm, and if you so wish, please accept it and stroll with me back to the camp?"

~~~~~~~~~~
Lithor

Lithor, along with Balvir and Matrim, emerged from the tent in their finest armor. The Gondorian pair wore almost the exact same things; both had on shirts of black leather bearing the majestic image of the White Tree. Under the leather tunic, both had on hauberk’s of steel rings out to the mid point of their upper arms and down to their knees. Ceremonial swords were at their sides, contained in sheaths of shining steel. The only difference between them was that Balivir wore a blue cape that embraced his shoulders, signifying his superior rank over Matrim.

Lithor’s garb was simple, but no less impressive. He too wore a hauberk, extending to the same lengths as Balvir’s and Matrim’s, but his was of iron and did not shine in the fading light as did the Gondorian steel; instead, it matched the brown, leather, shoulder pads and platebody. His leather platebody bore the image of a muscular horse of the Riddermark. A sword hung at his side and the hilt was laced with gold; an impressive reward for service to king and country. Lithor held his helmet. It was like that of most Rohirrim, except that a plume of horse hair was allowed to be placed on top.

The boisterous behavior of Matrim and the jolly nature of Lithor matched the usual mild manners of Balvir: austere and expressionless. The day of play was over; it was time to show reverence and respect to the Lord Eodwine and the soon to be Lady Saeryn.

“What do you know of weddings?” Balvir asked Lithor, continuing a conversation in that they were having inside the tent.

“Not much I’m afraid. I have only attended a wedding once back in Edoras, but that was between peasants and very simple. We will need lots to be done that’s clear, but what things; this wedding is to be much grander than the one I saw.”

“When in doubt ask!” Matrim stated. “I’m sure that Lord Eodwine would keep things as simple as possible, seeing as how he did not make his engagement known until half an hour ago.”

“Besides,” said Balvir, “We are not Eodwine’s personal servants, we are soldiers; this wedding business should be left up to the womenfolk. Saeryn should know what needs to be done, let’s ask her.”

The three headed back to where all the commotion was, expecting to find Eodwine and Searyn there. Matrim was sent off to find Wilcred and the other soldiers for help, when they found that Eodwine was not back at camp. Lithor and Balvir split up and agreed to meet back at the camp in five minutes.

~Five minutes later~

Balvir was waiting with Matrim, who had found the other soldiers, by the time that Lithor had gotten back.

“DId you find anything?” Matrim asked, though his tone was depressed seeing that Lithor came back alone.

“I found Saeryn with Eodwine, but they seem to be preoccupied at the moment. It seems that Randvér has returned. Do you remember him?”

“Ginna’s father?” Said Balvir in a startled tone. “That old man will be like a wet blanket on the camp’s cheer. Especially now that Harreld and Ginna are beginning to get cuddly again.”

“Randvér is already talking to Harreld; Eodwine and Saeryn were with him.” Matrim gave Balvir an amused look while Balvir scowled. “Anyway,” Lithor continued, “I didn’t think that it was an opportune time to ask Saeryn about the wedding.”

“That’s great,” Balvir said it in a sarcastic tone, “now what are we suppose to do?”

“Why not ask Modtryth?” Lithor pointed towards the kitchen where Modtryth was talking with Frodides. Matrim ran to them and respectfully interrupted the conversation. He then brought Modtryth to Lithor.

“Good evening ma’am. We have a problem that I hope you can help us with.” Lithor said this with his usual smile and gentle words. “tell me, Modtryth, what do womanfolk want in a wedding?”

[Thinlómien]

Modtryth suppressed a wince. Here was this slick Lithor once again, but his question wasn't a stupid one.

"Most of the things, I assume, will be taken care by the groom and the bride an their families." She paused there. Saeryn's and Eodwine's families? There was nothing of them except for Degas here. She pushed that thought away. If they needed help with the familial things, they would ask.

"Then there are some matters like the dressing the bride and baking a cake..." Here Modtryth glanced at Frodides, wondering if she and Kara would manage to make one on such a short notice, "...with which you can hardly be of any assistance."

Modtryth paused and a silence fell.
"So there's not anything we can do?" Matrim prodded.

"In fact, there is something. We need some decorations. You should go and cut some fresh branches of trees, and find flowers too, blue ones if possible, and then hang them around the place. I will show you how, and Ginna may be of assistance as well."

Suddenly the thought of the three soldiers picking flowers started amusing Modtryth. She grinned. "You can take little Lèodern - she's here - and the three boys with you. They can pick the flowers while you cut the branches."

"Oh and one more thing. I assume you know better than to chop down Eodwine's favourite trees," she laughed.

[Kath]

The delight in Erbrand's face when she agreed to dance with him filled Kara with joy. She had never deliberately hurt him but he was a man quick to misunderstand a conversation on occasion, and she was glad that at this particular time he had understood her entirely. Despite that she had not been expecting to be picked up and twirled around!

"Aah!" She had squealed when his arms suddenly wove themselves around her and squeezed tightly, even then not realising that he was going to lift her. When he did with such ease she simply threw her head back and laughed. It had been a long time since anyone had acted so freely with her, indeed the only person she could recall spinning her like this was her father, and she didn't mind the comparison.

When he had spun his joy out Erbrand finally put Kara gently back on her feet and gave her the biggest beam she had ever seen from him and she had to laugh again when he executed a flourishing bow in front of her.

"Then, most gracious lady Kara," he said, and his voice was for once fully confident, "I most humbly offer my arm, and if you so wish, please accept it and stroll with me back to the camp?"

"Well of course I will." Kara replied, linking her arm through his. "Lead on!"

[Groin Redbeard]

Erbrand blushed at the stranger’s question. His instinct was to question the man what business it was of his, but he fought it and instead held Kara hand tighter as a boy would hold an item which was in danger of being stolen. Eodwemer’s eyes were knowing and intrusive, there was no doubt that the question was aimed at Kara and himself; however, unlike Thornden, Erbrand could see no ill intent on the stranger’s part.

“I don’t know,” Erbrand responded and looked into Kara’s deep blue eyes. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

Again there was a silence. Erbrand felt his cheeks grow hot under the calm stare of Kara and Eodwemer-Erbrand hoped that he had not spoken out of terms for Kara. He liked her, he liked her a lot. Kara was usually the first thing that he thought of in the morning as he rose before the sun came up and evening when he rested. Their meetings in the morning were formal but genuinely enjoyable, and Erbrand relished those precious moments. Enjoyable was a word that fit his feelings towards Kara quite well, was it love? Was this merely a passing fancy? If it was, it would be incredibly wrong for Erbrand to pretend to like her. Erbrand couldn’t tell; he was bad at discerning his own feelings.

The silence was becoming uncomfortable. “What brings you to Scarburg, Eodwemer?” Erbrand still held Kara’s hand tucked around his arm. “Have you come to help with the building of the Hall?”

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwemer found long silences useful. They were a means of gauging people. This Erbrand, for example, was most ill at ease with them, whereas Kara seemed hardly to notice them. The man, he judged, was not in control of his feelings nor his thoughts. Perhaps he was a little dangerous. Did the lass like that, or did she not realize it?

“What brings you to Scarburg, Eodwemer?" asked Erbrand. "Have you come to help with the building of the Hall?”

Ah, the man needed to break the silence. Quite impatient.

"I was wandering through," he replied, "and happened to smell some good cooking on the air. As to the Hall, maybe I could help a little for a few days, with what craft I can offer..."

He trailed off and lapsed to silence, regarding them again, interested to see if either one or the other might pick up on his hint.

[Kath]

"Our cook will be very pleased to hear you appreciate her cooking!" Kara said with a smile, forgetting for the moment that she was as much the cook as Frodides these days.

She liked this strange man. He had a knack of asking those questions that she would least like to answer, but the reaction that the queries had drawn from Erbrand were worth it. She had been very interested to hear what Erbrand had to say and although his lack of committal was entirely expected the way that he had squeezed her hand tighter had not been and it had warmed her heart to feel it. Kara had to admit though that she was pleased Erbrand had taken on the responsibility of answering, she had no desire to ruin this evening with any misunderstandings.

Then of course there was the very obvious hinting that their guest was currently attempting. Kara was rather sure that he wasn't even trying to be subtle, there was a certain twinkle in his eye that spoke to the contrary. Therefore she chose to call him on it.

"And what craft might you have to offer?" She asked, a smile on her lips. "Or would that craft depend on what it was that we required?