Scarburg Meadhall

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Hilderinc had unsaddled his horse and then turned to go only to bump into Áforglaed, who was among the last ones leaving the stables. He looked confused, as if he only just realised Hilderinc was standing there, and he was having his right thumb in his mouth and sucking it.

"Enjoy your meal," said Hilderinc. "But perhaps I would wait for the lunch if I were you."

Áforglaed quickly removed the thumb from his mouth and wiped it to his trousers. Hilderinc noticed that it was slightly blue in color.

"That was probably not a very safe training for you, was it."

"Says the one who has been coaching babies," muttered Áforglaed, more like to himself, but Hilderinc heard him well enough. He looked around to see if Quin was nearby.

"Are you going out?" he asked then, turning back to the other soldier. "You are standing in the way."

"Ah – yes," Áforglaed seemed rather distracted. Hilderinc could very easily imagine that he had some of the young ladies in the Hall on his mind, or something like that.

"Have you seen Scyrr?" Áforglaed asked suddenly, as they were coming out of the stables.

So maybe it was not about ladies after all. "I don't know," Hilderinc said aloud. "Wasn't he sent back for some help duty after the first round?"

"He was," the fair-haired soldier nodded. "But I have expected him to be here when we arrive, helping to take care of the horses. He'd said that he's going to be here."

Hilderinc shrugged. "Maybe he is still helping. You can go and look at the kitchens – maybe you will get -"

He stopped and frowned, noticing something strange around the corner across the courtyard. Áforglaed followed his gaze. "What is that?" he asked. "Lord Athanar?"

Hilderinc did not say anything, he only took a deep breath. There was no doubt about what he was looking at.