The White Horse Inn, Act III

[Esgallhugwen]

"No stop, please" Gudryn begged tugging on the man's sleeve, he spun striking her in the jaw a studded ring on his finger cutting her lip. "It's so difficult disciplining a stubborn child, your worse then that god awful horse" he turned to pick up an oaken staff smiling grimly as he struck her again and again.

She dared not call out least he hit her harder, she swallowed her sobs and her eyes welled up with hot tears. She had had enough, enough of the beatings because she was proud and kind, but now her mind was broken and her body sore.

Gudryn wondered if she would die on the floor under this heathen.

Her eyes lazily opened to the sight of a fire blazing in the hearth, everything seemed so pure when you thought you were going to die, even the bone eating cold had a calm to it. Her brown eyes were caught in the light of the fire reflecting the golden hue.

Voices drifted around her and silhouetted bodies stood by her bringing the warmth to her chilled limbs. Then one of the voices spoke directly to her driving her attention away from the fire.

"Is your stomach ailing? Any pains there? I cannot give you broth if you are hurt inside. "

She closed her eyes for awhile trying to sum up the strength to shake her head. She kept thinking no, no ,no but her head wouldn't move, finally she managed weakly to turn her head side to side.

The young woman was hungry and couldn't remember the last time she had eaten, but broth would do for now least solid food cause her to be sick.

"Then let us warm you here first, and feed you, and I shall attend to your hurts once we can see the blood colour your cheeks again, from the inside where it belongs."

She smiled weakly because she could not nod her head, someone whispered loudly, her heart was pounding in her ears and she couldn't hear him, but one of the others, a tall man, raised his eyes impatiently towards the voice.

A fit of coughing escaped from the girl leaving her gasping for air. A kind faced woman looked down on the girl wiping her face clean of dirt and tears, her face came closer and looked at her lip.

"Did someone strike you, child?" the woman asked. Gudryn did not reply, but fresh tears leaked from her eyes and fell into her ears. She turned her face back towards the warm fire.

Her knees began to throb and the pebbles that were still stuck in her skin twinged her nerves sharply. She clenched her teeth and concentrated on the fire dancing on the logs, she loved the way it twirled around the wood, licking the stone and crackling gently.

Two of the figures returned to her side, the shorter one which she could not see very well lit up a pipe telling his whereabouts. She closed her eyes again and tried to breath smoothly and evenly.

A soft scent wafted to her nostrils, she groaned slightly as they helped her sit up on the table. The broth had arrived and Gudryn couldn't help but lick her chapped lips.

"Drink it slowly now, it is hot and we wouldn't want you to choke", she took the bowl and sipped it, the broth stopped her chills and warmed her belly. She coughed up a little dribble then wiped it away.

"Thank you" she said sleepily setting the bowl in her lap.

[littlemanpoet]

"Thank you," the girl murmured just as Eodwine returned to her makeshift bedside.

Ruthven took the bowl from the girl's lap. "This belongs down her throat, not staining her shift," she said sideways to Eodwine.

"What think you?" Eodwine asked her.

"'Tis hard to know much. She has been beaten, that is sure. And she has either been left to starve in some cold, cold empty roofless hovel, or she has been wandering with no help for a few days."

"Good then that she strayed by this inn's front door," Eodwine said.

"Aye."

"Do you have her name?"

"Nay."

Eodwine took a step closer. The girl might be sleeping, but he had to try. "Maiden? Do you sleep?" Her eyes fluttered open but stared at the raftered ceiling. "I am Eodwine. What is your name?" She looked at him then, and he looked upon her as kindly as he knew how. "You are safe now. We shall not let any dastard harm you again. What are you called?"

[Esgallhugwen]

"I cannot stay"

"Of course not dear, he is a cruel ruffian, you should leave before he makes it so that you cannot anymore"

She looked up at the woman who was said to be very old. She did not look it, her skin still had the glow of youth and her hair though pure snowy white glowed gold in the sunrise.

Gudryn remembered her braiding a wreath of blue and white flowers, the green steams so intricately and tightly woven by the skilled hands of this elder.

She loved this woman as a child would a parent, so gentle yet so wise with her years. A good friend to have at any time, good or bad.

"Where have you been?" the heartless voice inquired, her reply was an innocent, "nowhere". He seemed to ignore her answer, "you were with that witch again weren't you?" he spat.

She prepared herself for what would come now.

"Maiden? Do you sleep?" Gudryn's eyes fluttered open but stared at the raftered ceiling. "I am Eodwine. What is your name?" She looked at him then, and he looked upon her as kindly as he knew how. "You are safe now. We shall not let any dastard harm you again. What are you called?"

As she looked at him her lips trembled, "Gudryn, m'Lord, I am called Gudryn".
She looked around in puzzlement and fear still half in the nightmare but she could see Eodwine clearly.

"M' Lord?" she asked as he smiled down upon her, "will you truly keep me safe? I fear he will go looking for me to get revenge for my fleeing", she clutched at the quilt around her, trying vainly to find some comfort within it.

Eodwine's hand reached out to comfort her but she flinched and recoiled from the gesture with a whimper. "You are safe here", he reassured her before she allowed him to take her hand.

She squeezed his hand as hard as her strength could allow, wiping her face of tears in the warm blanket. "I hope so, I'm afraid" she sobbed.

[littlemanpoet]

"You are safe here."

"I hope so. "I'm afraid!" The girl called Gudryn sobbed and squeezed Eodwine's hand with all the strength she could, but her grip was to him frail as a maple leaf clinging to its branch in November. Gudryn. 'Twas a good Rohirric name. No maiden of the Rohirrim should be treated so.

"Fear not," he answered. "I am a messenger of King Éomer himself. I followed him into battle in the War and survived. Doubt not that I can keep some besotted cur from harming you." She looked up at him gratefully. Trust was in her eyes. Good.

"Whoever this rascal is," said Falco through his pipe, "he's beyond the law if we was in the Shire."

"'Tis so here as well, my friend," Eodwine said, watching the girl, "'tis so here as well." For a long time Gudryn held his hand tightly, and he stood there calm and sure, despite the growing pain in his back form his slouch. At last she fell asleep and her grip loosened. Eodwine slid his hand from hers and pulled himself straight up, stretching.

"'Tis time to get the girl to a proper bed," said Ruthven.

Eodwine lifted her, her sleep undisturbed, and brought her to the room Bethberry had prepared. When they had laid her to rest, Eodwine suggested that they all share a watch, for they knew not who the ruffian was, and he might come for the girl in the night if he learned where she was.

"Who will split the night's watch with me?" Eodwine asked.

"Don't think you're going to take all the heroism to youself, Master Eodwine," Falco said, puffing on his pipe, "not while I'm here to show you up!"

"Very well! We shall split the watch in two unless any others wish to join our vigil."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

"I shall help, if no-one minds." added Saeryn softly. I cannot let this girl remain afraid... not the way I was for so very long...

"You are more than welcome, m'lady."

"In that case, good sirs, if you will excuse me for a moment?" Without waiting for an answer, Saeryn turned on her heel and disappeared into her own room. Seeing her belongings where she left them, her saddlebags yet unpacked, she lifted them to the bed. Opening a pocket, Saeryn removed a pair of knives, razor-sharp and ebony hilted. She strapped them to her ankles, pulling her boots over them. Turning to her pile of soiled clothing, Saeryn set aside her old tunic and strapped the short sword beneath it to her belt.

She returned to the girl's room, not meeting the mens' eyes. Loosening her sword, Saeryn stationed herself by the door looked up at Eodwine. His face revealed his wonder... could this wisp of a girl truly wield this blade? She smiled, her teeth flashing in a humorless grin. He doubted no longer.

"Just in case, Master Eodwine. Just in case."

[littlemanpoet]

"Indeed, lady Saeryn, indeed." He smiled and nodded approvingly, standing in the doorway. "You will take first watch then."

Faldo was puffing at his pipe at Eodwine's side. "She puts me in mind of Lumiel and Eswen; and Lyra, may her soul rest in peace."

"Who are they?" asked Saeryn. "Or were they?"

"Elven swordmaidens who guarded our backs in the hills of Evendim," Falco replied as his smoke rings grew, floating into Gudryn's room.

"Their prowess was great," Eodwine said. "Lyra was not least among them, but perished in the attack on the fiend's fortress. She is greatly missed."

"I would have liked to know her," Saeryn said.

"You may meet the other two. Who can say?" Eodwine turned to Falco. "What is the time?"

"I have it at midnight. Seems we'd do best to split the night into three hours apiece. And since I hold my ale better'n you, Master Eodwine, let's have it that the Lady wakes me up and I wake you, eh?"

"Hah! Hold your ale better than I? You keep yourself so soaked, you never dry out!"

"Nonsense! Lady, I shall sleep nearest the door so all you need do is knock, and I'll come running."

[Bêthberry]

Having arranged certain events and made notifications, the Innkeeper arrived at the doorway, not without some coughing and sputtering herself at all the smoke the two brave lads had been producing. Ruthven was at her side.

"Gentlemen and heroes," Bethberry began, " I thank you for your help in carrying the unfortunate lass to this room, but now I will ask that as gentlemen you take your leave from the lady's chamber. She will be watched by womenfolk, by Saeryn here, Ruthven, and myself. "

Falco took umbrage at this remark, the moreso perhaps because of the drink he had imbibed. "I am a halfling of the finest fibre. I mean to do justice to honour and..."

His words were interrupted by Eodwine, himself not too steady on his feet, as his back was still aching from holding his crouch over the girl's makeshift bed as she fell asleep. It had not been a particularly commodious position for his stomach, either, and he several times felt the need to take deep swallows of breath in order to steady that organ. Yet his heart and tongue needed no steadying.

"We know what fibre you have in you. It was a right fine meal you ate. But this calls for a guard of stamina and strength, not one who can offer but half-measures."

"Why, you old sot you!" retaliated the hobbit. "As if a messanger has the fighting skills of a warrior! It takes a bit more to carry a sword than a letter, and much more than to carry your ale."

So quarrelsome were the two becoming that unnoticed their pipeweed went out and the air cleared.

"You shall wake the lass at this rate, if you keep it up," intoned the Innkeeper. "Gentlemen, the White Horse Inn is locked and bolted and guarded by means which many have heard not of. I ask you to take to your rooms, and get a good night's sleep. We will have need of your wit and skill and adventurous spirits on the morrow, but for now let women do their work." She looked sternly at the two as if she would brook no argument.

"Saeryn," said Bethberry, turning to the young woman, if you would take the first watch, and Ruthven here will sleep on a side cot. You can wake her to take the later shift."

"Do that, lass, and trust to me," replied the old woman. "I know when to call for your help should it be needed. I promise to wake you from your cot at the first sign we might need your sword."

The three woman formed a formidable presence, standing shoulder to shoulder in front of Eodwine and Falco, who were beginning to see doubly if not triply the merit in Bethberry's words. They bowed courteously and withdrew.

Bethberry turned to the women. "The falcon Wyrd will be perched aloft. At any sign of unruly approach he will come to you and to me, to warn. Other measures are afoot as well. Trust to us."

"Aye, aye, I know your ways, Bethberry," lightly cajoled Ruthven. "We shall be fine unless those two lads decide to make such adventurous deeds as to announce the presence of the lass here."

"They mean well," spoke up Bethberry. "They are simply rather fond of adventures."