Hard Winters RPG

[Folwren]

Thornden seized upon a shovel and found himself working side by side with Scyld. They flung the muck and filth into a heap on the far side of the would-be trench. He noticed, just as Scyld and all the other diggers noticed, how progress seemed impossible and new water and mud filled the trench with each shovelful taken out.

“If the mud continues to flow like this, we may need to brace the sides with boards,” Thornden said aloud, but more to himself than to Scyld. The trouble would be finding boards. “Stone would work, too,” he added after a moment’s consideration. They had stones in plenty. But further reflection caused him to realize that stones would sink and would not be as useful. Hopefully they would not need to use either. Some progress was being made, and more and more people were joining them with makeshift tools to scoop away the sludge.

He spotted Ruari and Eoghan some way down the line. He only recognized them from their short stature. Most of the people were indistinguishable in the gray, streaming curtain of rain. Every head was bent, every back stooped. He turned his eyes and attention back to the end of his shovel.

The twins thought they were helping with the task at hand. They had not asked for permission to come out, they had simply followed the general crowd. They immediately grasped understanding of the situation and had gone to find something with which to dig. They returned and squeezed in between members of the line and squatted down and began to dip and fling the muck. No one paid them much mind, as they did no harm, and if they were in the way, they were asked to move down the trench.

The trench was slowly taking form. It never was empty, but the thick muck that was being removed was replaced by water, presumably flowing down from the dung pits. The quiet drudgery, endured in silence by most of the people, was broken by a quarrel between the twins.

Ruari’s shoveling implement – a piece of thick bark fallen from one of the logs brought by the supply wagon – broke off and fell into the trench. She fished for it with her hand a moment, but the water was too murky for her to see, and too deep for her to reach to the bottom. She turned to Eoghan.

“Give me your stick,” she said. “I losed mine.”

“No,” Eoghan answered, shortly. “Go find another.”

Ruari stood up and moved away. She came back a couple minutes later, unsuccessful in her search. “I can’t find anything. Let me have a turn.”

Eoghan pretended he had not heard and continued shoveling. Ruari moved nearer and tried to reach for the stick. Eoghan held it out of reach and pushed her off with a raised elbow. She began to holler for it. Eoghan, still staving her off with his arm, turned his head, scooped out a blobful of muck and catapulted it at his sister.

Ruari howled with indignation, and immediately used both her hands to shove Eoghan's back. He toppled straight into the trench.

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna was not so close to the children, but was closer than Eodwine. She looked his way and saw him stop in the middle of shoveling a load of dung. She meaningfully pointed at herself and then at the two children, Eoghan now hollering in doubled indignation. Eodwine nodded and watched her head off to the children before continuing with the work.

Rowenna trudged over to Ruari. With two hands she lifted her up, carried her ten feet back, and placed her on her feet.

"Stay here," she grated. "If you do not, you will feel worse from me than dung on your clothing."

Without a backward glance, she trudged back to the now screaming Eoghan, who had been fished out of the trench by one of the men at arms. With a quick thank you to him, Rowenna took Eoghan by then hand and trudged back to Ruari, who was standing precisely one step away from where Rowenna had put her, and one foot raised to take another. Rowenna grabbed her hand.

"Come!"

She walked at a splashing pace fast enough to make the children struggle to keep up, back to the Hall. Saeryn would be in a fit once she saw these two.

[Folwren]

Saeryn had gone out momentarily to see the flooding and hear the plans that were made. She returned to the hall with the others searching for objects and implements to dig with. She followed behind others when she found something, but she stopped halfway across the muddy yard. In time, people would come in from their task, wet through, cold, and covered in mud and dung. She grimaced at the thought and turned her steps back toward the kitchen. She was relieved to see that the buckets of water drawn earlier from the well still stood by the door.

“Cerwyn,” she said, seeing that the young lady still sat there. “Set some pots over the fire. As many as you can find. I’m going to fetch more water. We’ll get water ready for everyone when they finish the task.”

Together they stoked up the fire, moved the stew for supper over the direct heat, and put a cauldron of water on the boil. Saeryn hauled in from outside a large wooden tub used for bathing.

“Keep water on,” she said when she had finished. “When it gets hot, pull it aside and put it by the stew, and put another pot on the hook. I’ll bring in more before going out to help on the trench.” She picked up her shawl and tied it over her head and picked up the two buckets. She turned towards the door and stopped as it swung open and Rowenna, towing the twins behind her, entered. Searyn froze, rooted to her spot, and she surveyed their condition. Both were wet, but only Eoghan was soaked through and through and covered almost head to toe in mud and muck, and though Ruari looked black as thunder, only Eoghan was screaming.

“Stop that noise,” she said sternly. Eoghan cut short his shrill cry, but he did not cease the noise entirely.

“Ruari pushed me in!” he accused loudly.

Saeryn’s eyes flashed towards Ruari. She did not even need to ask if this was so, for the impetuous girl immediately began to defend herself. “My shovel broke, and Eoghan wouldn’t give me-”

“Hush,” Saeryn said, quietly. Ruari and Eoghan became silent, and for a moment all that was heard was the crackling of the fire and the drip, drip of water from Eoghan’s clothes, punctuated with an occasional sniff from him.

“We’ll get you cleaned up, and then we will discuss this. Take your clothes off. Rowenna, help Ruari there.” The two women got the children undressed, their soiled clothes dropped in a heap. “Rowenna, see if you can find any rope. We’ll string a line outside and hang these clothes. The rain can do some of our rinsing for us until we can get to the wash.” Rowenna went outside without a word.

Ruari crept towards the fire, shivering. Searyn stopped her. “Stay where you are until we get this tub filled.” Ruari looked like she was about to protest, but a look from Saeryn warned her not to speak. She subsided into silence and waited by her brother, who looked colder and more dejected than she. It seemed to the two of them that Saeryn and Cerwyn worked as slowly as was humanly possible, but it was really only a couple of short minutes before the tub was filled with lukewarm water and Saeryn called Ruari over. She washed her arms and legs, toweled her dry, and then told her to stand by the fire while she attended Eoghan.

In a few minutes they were cleaned and dressed. Rowenna had the line strung outside and the children’s clothes taken and hung there. Saeryn sat the two children on the bench by the kitchen table.

“I will go out and see how things go outside. Cerwyn, is it too much to ask that you keep an eye on them until I return?”

[Firefoot]

Cerwyn gladly handled each of the tasks that Saeryn asked of her. She was relieved not to be asked to help dig, but even more so not to sit idly and awkwardly by while everyone else worked. In the kitchen, she could still be useful without getting filthy.

Already, though, she began to understand: if she decided to stay, she would work no less hard than she did at home. On the other hand, the easy conversation among the women in the kitchen before most of them had left to dig made the work seem less onerous.

Then Rowenna marched the twins into the kitchen, and Cerwyn felt caught between horror at their state and admiration at how well Saeryn managed them. Little spitfires, they were. She followed Saeryn’s lead as best she could as they got the pair cleaned up. Then Saeryn asked her to watch them.

She eyed the twins. “I think I can handle them,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

“Thank you,” said Saeryn, and she left.

Alone now with the twins, Cerwyn first returned to the task that Saeryn had originally set her: making sure that water continued to heat on the kitchen fire. It took only a few moments to hook a new pot of water over the fire (the first having been used for the twins’ bath water). Knowing of nothing else that needed doing, she then sat down across from the twins at the table.

“Feeling better now that you’re warm and dry?” she asked them.

[Folwren]

Saeryn sloshed through the mud and water to Eodwine. In the general dimness caused by the downpour, she could not tell how much progress had been made nor how much further they would have to go. She reached out to touch his shoulder and then drew back, hoping that the wetness on his sleeve was just rain. It was hard to tell; everything stank over here.

“What are your plans, Eodwine? Will this take a long time more? How much time do you think? If it is a long time, I will join you.”

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine stopped a moment to think through Saeryn's questions, then continued his work while puffing out his thoughts as they came.

"We have much to do." He dug and straightened. "This trench must be deep enough..." he tossed his load toward the growing lined heap. "... to hold all the water that floods into this lowland." He dug again and straightened. "Then we need to dig an outflow trench to take the water to the swamp so none of this area floods again."

"It will take until sundown and later, then," Saeryn replied.

"Yes. Rowenna took the children in for me. You took care of them?"

"Yes. Cerwyn watches them now."

Eodwine nodded. "Not all work is out here. I am sure much must be done in the Hall. But could you check on the Smith brothers and see if they have some new shovels for us?"

[Folwren]

“I will do it,” Saeryn replied at once. She turned and hitched her skirts up above her ankles and waded across to the smithy. The door stood open and clouds of hot, steaming air came billowing out. She peered in to see the two smiths bent over their work. Two or three other men worked in the hot, cramped space.

“Eodwine asks if you have any shovels completed yet,” she called.

“A few,” came the short response. Garreth nodded to a large bucket of water. Osmund crossed from behind him to lift out several crude but serviceable shovels and brought them to Saeryn.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Take care, lady,” he said. “The metal may still be hot.”

“Thank you,” she said. She went out into the rain and back to the trench. She found men without shovels and dispersed those she had and returned to Eodwine.

“I have given the new ones out. Garreth and Harreld are still at work. I will have supper ready and waiting, and there will be hot water to bathe in. I will bring out something hot to drink soon, too.”

[Folwren]

Saeryn worked steadily from the time she spoke with Eodwine to when everyone finally came streaming inside. She dismissed her children to go play, warning them to be good. She had intimated to Ruari that she had more to say concerning the incident at the trench, and she wondered if that kept the girl in line, for she did not hear a peep from either twin until supper time.

The trouble was preempting the time when everyone would come inside. They would be filthy and wet, and she wanted neither the wet nor the filth in the hall. Then, about half way through the trying afternoon, water began to seep in under the door. There was not much that could be done about that besides making sure all the grain and anything else that could be destroyed by water was lifted off the floor. Thankfully, before the sun had set, the water had begun to recede again. Saeryn and Cerwyn opened the doors and swept the water back out and mopped up what was left.

When they were finished, they still had the trouble of what to do when the people returned to the hall.

“We will have the women take their outer clothing off and leave it in the passageway there by the kitchen,” Saeryn said as she and Cerwyn removed another large pot of boiling water from the fire and dumped it into the tub. “They can bathe in here. The men can have the hall.”

By the time the trenches were completed, Searyn had every available pot, pan, bowl, caldron, and tub full of hot water. She had soap and towels prepared, too, and when she met them at the door, she began giving orders.

“The men will stay in the hall,” she said. “Take your clothes off here in the entry – I don’t want any of that muck inside the hall. There is water there by the fire.” She pointed. The hearth was crowded with various vessels full of steaming water. “Throw your clothes outside the door. Women, you’ll come around back to the back kitchen entryway.”

The people moved as quickly as they could through their baths, throwing out old soiled water. Cerwyn worked inside, heating more water when any container became available. Saeryn went outside and began gathering the soiled clothing and hanging them on the lines Rowenna had strung earlier.

[Folwren]

“Can I help you?” The query came from Ledwyn as she stood wringing the water from her hair by the fire. Saeryn glanced up at her as she piled trenchers onto her tray.

“No. You sit down. Anyone who spent their day in the rain, digging in all that mud, deserves a rest. Cerwyn and I can handle supper tonight.” It was perhaps an ambitious statement, but Saeryn felt they could do it. She looked over at Cerwyn as the young woman pulled two fresh loaves of bread out of the oven. Léof’s sister had proven herself to be capable and helpful, and Saeryn was grateful that she had come that day.

They prepared everything to take out into the hall, stacking the trays high. They sliced the bread and laid it in baskets.

There was a knock at the kitchen door. Saeryn glanced around quickly. Everyone was dressed and proper. She opened the door. Cnebba stood by.

“Eodwine sent me to inform you that the hall is ready.”

“You may tell him the food will be out directly.”

The ladies all lent a hand with bearing out the utensils and food for supper. Tray after tray was carried out and laid on the tables. There was a quiet but appreciative murmur as they laid their trays down and the stew began to be ladled out. Very little conversation sprang up for several minutes as the hungry men set into their well earned supper.

[Folwren]

“I heard Osmund talking about flooding,” Javan was saying as Cerwyn approached with their supper. “He said if the Entwash overflows and fills up the marshland, we could be forced to leave the hall.”

“The scar will protect us,” Cnebba said, watching the plate of food as Cerwyn placed it before him. Javan glanced up at Cerwyn, momentarily distracted.

“I’m Javan,” he said. “We haven’t properly met. You’re Léof’s sister, aren’t you?”

[Folwren]

Javan picked up the slice of bread with one hand and his spoon with another, but he answered Cerwyn’s question before diving in.

“I’m not sure. There’s higher ground south, but we couldn’t go far that way before we’d run into flooding from Snowbourne.”

“There’s lots of land between us and the Snowbourne,” Cnebba interjected.

Javan shrugged. “Maybe.” Truly, he did not know where they would go, but to save himself the uncomfortable business of admitting this, he took a bite and for a while forgot about Cerwyn’s question altogether. By the time he had looked up again, she was moving away to serve the next table. He leaned back to see past his neighbor and called after her.

“When you finish, we’ll save you a seat here, if you like,” he said.

[Folwren]

“About six, seven years,” Javan said with a shrug.

“He was something of a rogue when he arrived,” Garmund said from across the table.

Javan raised his head and looked at him with a sort of pleading expression. Garmund just laughed. “I remember – the first year he was here, he borrowed Falco’s pipe – Falco was a hobbit friend of Eodwine’s staying at the time – and Javan ended up burning the stables down!”

“It’s not funny,” Javan said, going terribly red in the face. He rarely referred to that day, and his friends could not guess the deep sense of shame that he still carried when he thought about it. Garmund had been just a child at the time, and he likely did not recall the exact circumstances that followed, or the long indenture Javan had served afterward. He probably did not even know about the horses Léof had lost in the fire, or how long it took for Javan to repair the breech in Léof’s trust…or anyone’s trust, for that matter.

“It’s true,” he said, after his friends had had their laugh at his expense. “I was rather bad. I think I’ve improved.”

“Well, you haven’t committed any crimes worth speaking of recently, anyway,” Cnebba said. He and Garmund laughed again.

[littlemanpoet]

Rowenna listened to Saeryn's diatribe with a smirk on her face, chewing and swallowing a piece of bread. She considered interrupting her, just to make the pot boil hotter, but decided to let her finish. She tipped her head quizzically and sardonically.

"It's nice to see you show up. I was not sure you had it in you. You might just have lasted more than a day with my brigands." She lowered her brow and allowed her smirk to slip to a menacing frown, and she leaned forward.

"It matters not that you don't make any sense. You're not used to being this hot headed, so I'll let it pass. But maybe you might explain just what has got you so hopping mad?"

Somewhere inside, Saeryn felt a prick of satisfaction that she had actually gotten under Rowenna's skin, despite Rowenna's cool front.

"It's you," she said. "You - stepping out of your place - and disrespecting your betters." She lifted one hand and reached to the tray, still holding several servings. "You've effectively driven Garreth out. I want you to take this to him." She held it toward Rowenna and met her eye, daring her to disobey. "Now," she said, quietly.

Now Rowenna was angry. "No-one is my better. You may hold a place of power and right by law, but that does not make you better than me. Take it to him yourself."

Saeryn shook her head, growing calmer as she felt she gained the upper hand. "I wasn't talking about myself," she said. "You drove him out. You'll amend it."

She set the bowl down by Rowenna's, retrieved her tray with a huff, and stood up.

"The plate will sit there until he comes for it or someone brings it to him. Did you see me with a whip and chair to drive him out? He left by his own will. He owns his deeds, not me. Go find some child to scold. And next time, make sure you know what really happened before you start your scolding."

"Some would count your tongue as a lash, Rowenna," Saeryn said, feeling the sting of it at that moment. "I need hardly stretch my mind to guess what passed between the two of you." She paused, waiting. Rowenna made no move. "So you will not take it to him, then?" Saeryn asked. "We shall see what is to be done." She turned and moved away.

That was a threat. Rowenna did not take it kindly. "So you would rather not know the truth, you just want your way, is that it?"

"Fine," Saeryn said, swinging back. "Tell me." And inwardly she added, 'It had better be worth all this trouble, or I swear, I'll make you pay.'

Rowenna stood. She looked at Harreld, and called him by name. He looked at her askance. "Please tell Lady Saeryn what passed between your brother and me."

Harreld stood up and cleared his throat. “Rowenna handed a plate to my brother but did not let go. He demanded that she let go, and she asked what she would get in return. He did not answer but walked out. I asked her why she harassed him and she asked why we men are served before the women. I had no answer.”

Saeryn turned from Harreld to Rowenna. She could not believe the stubbornness she had to deal with. “Why did you harass him?” she asked.

Truth be told, it was because Garreth had been the one who was foul to her in the first place. She had chosen not to be difficult with Harreld or any other man; instead she had allowed her rage to find an appropriate target, as it were; but she would lose face if she said that to Saeryn. “I harassed no-one! I worked as hard as any man today! I’ll not be treated like trash!” She stepped over the bench, leaving the bowl sitting where it lay, turned her back on Saeryn, and stormed out the door and into the downpour.

Saeryn stared after her. She almost followed her, but when she saw the pouring rain through the opening and closing door as Rowenna went out, she decided against it. She turned back to the table and looked down at Rowenna’s uneaten portion of food and the bowl meant for Garreth beside it.

Harreld was still standing, watching Saeryn. “Lady, I will take the food to my brother. He asked it of me.”

She looked at him and did not immediately respond, for her mind was still full of Rowenna’s words. At last she seemed to hear him. She shook her head. “No. Thank you, Harreld. I will take it to him myself.”

“Are you sure, Lady, that you want to do that?” Harreld looked uncomfortable. “My brother is - a - difficult man when he is angered, and you -” he paused and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Please let me take it to him.”

Saeryn turned her head slightly and stared hard at him. “And I am what?” she demanded.

“You are - er -” he paused again, and reddened as he realized how many faces were looking up at him around the hall. He braced himself. “You are a woman, Lady, your pardon.”

Saeryn cracked a smile. “So I am,” she agreed. She took a quick glance around. Cerwyn had seen to the last of the serving. She set her tray down and picked up Garreth’s serving. “You have worked hard and are tired. Sit and enjoy your supper and stay warm and dry.”

“Lady, I have lost my appetite and I am going back to the smithy anyway. Please let me take it.”

“Harreld,” Saeryn said, firmly, but not unkindly. “I am not afraid of your brother. You will not let my good supper go to waste. I know men better than to think a woman’s quarrel will put them off their meat.” She smiled at him again and went back toward the kitchen to find a cover for the bowl before taking it out into the rain.

[Firefoot]

Cerwyn’s mood was not assuaged by Javan’s reassurances. They had all been too startled by her original revelation for Léof to have mentioned it at some point, and her anger at her brother continued to simmer, though she let herself be momentarily distracted by Javan’s question.

“No. He’ll be quite mad when he finds I’ve gone, if he hasn’t already heard,” she said. “So maybe you’ve not got the corner on roguishness at this table.” She attempted a grin, but even to her own ears the humor seemed flat. “As I said before, I’m hoping Léof and Father might finally forgive each other. Father’s better than he used to be, I think. But I also thought Léof would want to come home, if I gave him the chance, and I seem to have gotten that terribly wrong.”

~*~*~*~*~

Léof

With the fight between Rowenna and Saeryn over (or at least suspended), Léof finally felt safe to move again. He’d finished his soup, having been very keenly focused on it for the last several minutes, and he had no wish to linger at the table. It was past time for him to catch up with Cerwyn, anyway. Taking a piece of bread in hand, he stood up and scanned the Hall for his sister. He spotted her at the other end of the room, sitting with Javan, Garmund, and Cnebba, and headed in their direction.

[Folwren]

Saeryn hurried through the soggy courtyard toward the smithy, ducking her head against the rain, and seeing little except the ground just before her feet. When she reached the eaves of the smithy, she raised her head and shook the loose rain drops from her hair. She gave an involuntary shiver before entering the smithy.

It was warmer inside, and dry. She saw Garreth working by the furnace.

"I have brought you your supper," she said. "If you like, you can come back in and eat it. Or stay out here, as you wish."

Garreth looked up from his work and regarded her sullenly. "I asked Harreld to bring me my food, no-one else. Is he suddenly too ill to do the job himself?"

Saeryn was not going to get into another argument with a hard-headed contestant. She set the food down on a workbench. "Harreld has worked hard today. I saw little reason to send him out again into the rain. Here is your supper. Have a goodnight."

She turned to go.

Garreth was not about to let a woman have the last word, at least not without one retort. "And here I thought it was the lord of the hall that made such decisions, rather than his wife." He allowed a goodly amount of sneer into the last word he spoke.

Saeryn paused by the door and reflected on his words. She made an effort not to let them affect her. She looked back at him. "Goodnight, Garreth," she said, and went out into the rain.

"Women, confound them," she heard Garreth mutter behind her.

She almost walked right into Harreld. She jumped with a surprised gasp. When she looked up at him, she saw he looked worried. "What did he say to you?" he asked.

"Not much," she said, backing up under the eave of the smithy again. "I think he indicated that I was running the roost instead of Eodwine." She sighed.

"I am sorry. I would have spared you his temper. He trusts no woman since - since his time in Edoras. Good night." Harreld let her go by and went inside the smithy.

[Folwren]

Saeryn turned and watched Rowenna go, wondering at the change in her. She turned away again, shaking her head slowly. She was sorrowed to see Rowenna react so, but she thought that soon things would settle into their old way. They were both tired. A meal and a night’s rest would work wonders, she had little doubt.

In a moment, she joined Eodwine at the head table. She quietly slid into the chair beside him and drew a deep sigh. For the first time in hours, she felt herself relax. She shut her eyes a moment, too tired to take up her spoon and begin eating. With a shake, she roused herself and sat up and reached for the bowl that someone, she was not sure who, had placed there in expectation of her arrival.

---

Javan

“No,” Cerwyn said in reply to Javan’s question. “He’ll be quite mad when he finds I’ve gone, if he hasn’t heard already. So maybe you’ve not got the corner of roguishness at this table.”

Javan laughed a little in politeness, but his curiosity was piqued again, and after an appropriate pause, he asked, “What do you mean, if he hasn’t heard already? Don’t you see him every day? I mean, if any of us up and disappeared one day, someone would be sure to notice right away.”

Just as he finished, and before Cerwyn could begin answering, Léof sauntered up. Javan glanced up at him, and then down at Cerwyn. Quickly, he looked away and slid down the bench, making room for Léof between himself and Cerwyn.

“Come to join us, Léof?” he asked, slapping the space on the bench.

[littlemanpoet]

Once she had the line strung up and the children's clothes hanging, Rowenna considered her responsibilities in terms of the children complete. She waded through the rising waters toward trenches. She saw that the waters were rising, in part, because the pile of smelly muck being dug out and evenly spaced at Eodwine's direction, was now keeping all water except for the continuing downpour from entering the dung pit; and thus, the water rose like a sea around it. It would not be long before the floor of the Hall was awash in muddy water.

She climbed over the filthy dike, hiking her skirts high enough to keep them from getting stuck in the mire. She was mindful of a few of the men's eyes flitting toward her uncovered legs, but she did not care. There were more important things to think about.

She stalked toward Eodwine, got close enough to his ear, and said, "That Sorn was a fool, building his house and outbuildings down here. When this has passed, we should rebuild this settlement on the Scar itself!"

Others nearby pricked their ears to hear, and Rowenna realized that this would be considered very forward of her, and that she was maybe out of her depth, and even insubordinate. She did not care. Eodwine needed to hear this, and if this was not the best time, little damage.

Eodwine stopped a moment from digging. He looked at Rowenna, the fierce expression on her face, then turned and looked through the downpour at the Scar. It was full of stone and it was the highest land for miles. Why had Sorn now built there? Maybe because he was indeed a fool. Why, thought Eodwine to himself, had he not thought of it himself before today? Maybe because was himself a fool, or maybe because he had not foreseen how bad this flooding would be. Either way, it was a good idea, even if it would require a great effort.

He faced her. "It is a good thought, but it will have to wait for further thought until the needs of the moment are dealt with. Go to the Smiths and get whatever new shovels they have ready."

She nodded, satisfied that he was not ignoring the good sense of her words.

"And make sure to keep one of the shovels for yourself!" came Eodwine's words as she walked away. She smiled as she sloshed through the mess.

[Firefoot]

Scyld was not working near enough to the Eorl to hear what Rowenna said to him, but word spread quickly enough down the trench. The man on Scyld's left repeated the gist of the conversation for them; it seemed to Scyld that the man had more he wished to say concerning Rowenna's behavior but refrained, perhaps because Thornden stood so near.

"Well, Sorn was surely a fool," said Scyld, "but I've lived here nearly my whole life, and my father and grandfather before me, and I've never heard of such flooding. I don't see how Sorn, or Lord Eodwine for that matter, could have planned for this."

~*~*~*~

Leof

When the digging began, Leof had hurried back to the stables, hoping that Harreld and Garreth would have missed the one of the two shovels there, but the smiths had been thorough. With a sigh, Leof had grabbed an empty feed pail for a scoop and returned to join those already shoveling. He had not yet decided whether he would ever get it clean enough to put feed in again. Of course, he'd seen some returning with pots from the kitchen, and that thought made his stomach turn even more than the dung stench in the air.

Slowly, they seemed to be making progress, and he was heartened to look up and see Rowenna coming his way with a few of the new shovels. "Look," he said to Elfthain and Javan, who were nearby. "I think it's our turn to get some shovels."

[Folwren]

Javan would have been glad of any excuse to turn the topic away from his past crime, but it was with genuine wonder that he and the other boys turned their attention to Cerwyn. For a moment, the young lady did not seem to notice their surprise as she took another bite of stew, but soon she couldn't help but notice it - the silence was pretty complete at their end of the table for several seconds.

Javan at last cleared his throat and spoke for all of them. "What do you mean, your father threw Léof out?" he asked. "I thought he left because...well, he because he was tired of the way your father treated him."

[Firefoot]

Cerwyn flushed. Léof seemed so well-known, so well-respected, here at the Hall that it had not occurred to her that his story would not be common knowledge. Maybe, if he had spent more than ten minutes talking to her since she’d gotten here, he would have told her that there were things he was keeping secret. So much for all his fine words about this being his home now! He didn’t even trust the people who lived here enough to tell them the truth about where he came from.

Maybe, if she were less tired, if she were thinking clearly, she would have gone right away to find Léof and talk with him.

Instead, she said, “Is that what he told you?” she asked. She laughed shortly, feeling slightly hysterical. “Well - Léof was certainly tired of how our Father was treating both of us. Up till that night, he just took it, we both did. But one night, Father came in – drunk, of course – and they started fighting. I wasn’t paying attention to what over, but I looked up just as Father took a swing at Léof. Instead of just ducking or backing away or just taking it, Léof hit back. I don’t think it hurt him much, but I’ve never seen my Father so angry. He told Léof to get out, and by the next morning he’d taken his horse and gone.” She laughed again. “Honestly I think my Father was more upset over him taking Æthel than over his leaving, but going after the horse would have meant going after Léof, and he’s too stubborn to chase after someone he’d just told to go.”