Eorling Mead Hall

[Folwren]

Rilef did not answer Thornden's last question. Perhaps he was not able to, or perhaps he did not want to. The question was badly asked, Thornden realized after a moment. How could he ask if one could live without the other?

But before the silence was long, Léof was there, running up quickly through the underbrush. He stopped short on the edge of the clear space and stood for a moment, looking. And then, with hesitant steps forward, he ventured, "What has...how can I help?"

Thornden slowly lifted his head. He gathered his scattered wits together and cleared his eyes of tears. "Léof," he said, rising slowly. "Have you seen anyone else nearby?" Léof shook his head, his eyes fixed on the twins. Thornden was about to ask him another question when a movement and grunt caught his ear. Thornden turned about, his hand on the hilt of his sword. For the first time since coming, he noticed a third outlaw in the near vicinity. The man lay half on his back, in a twisted sort of position. Apparently, he had been senseless, but now he was waking back up. He groaned again and turned towards the ground.

Thornden looked quickly towards Léof, nodded his head in the outlaws direction and waved his hand. The two of them closed in quickly, coming upon him silently. He didn't notice them until they were quite near, and only because he had begun to raise himself up on one elbow. He gave a start, rising half to his knees, but Thornden drew his sword and in a moment, had it at his throat. The man knew better than to move and he remained rigid, on his knees. Thornden commanded him to stand up, and he obeyed.

"Léof, go back to Rilef. I'll figure out what to do with this one." Léof turned to obey, but before Thornden could even begin to think of what to do, another person came running and crashing through the underbrush. "Léof, be on guard!" Thornden called. Without thinking, he opened his left hand grasped for his dagger. A pain shot through his hand, from the cut on his palm, but he drew the blade anyway.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine came to the ruined tower, and almost ran headlong into the point of a sword. Léof was on the other end of it, looking ready to kill. In a half a moment, his eyes went wide and his mouth formed an 'o'.

"Lord Eodwine!" He lowered his sword, then his eyes to the twins lying behind him. Eodwine saw the growing stain of blood on the ground around Rilef. Behind them both was Thornden, looking grim, holding the outlaw hostage that Eodwine had knocked out a few minutes ago.

"My thanks for coming! So Falco made it back whole. That is good. Are there others?"

"I have brought Garstan, Stigend, Garreth, and Harreld with as well, lord," Thornden announced.

"And here they are now," Eodwine replied as he watched them come near from out of the brush. "There are twelve outlaws; so says the maiden I have freed and is waiting with Garmund and Cnebba."

"Cnebba!" cried Stigend.

"Garmund!" cried Garstan.

"What do they here?" both shouted at once.

"They came on their own and got themselves into a load of trouble which they then helped me get them out of. But it meant saving them and not Rilef. Would that I could have done both. At any rate, there were twelve outlaws; I have killed two. How many others have you seen?"

Thornden named two kills, and Stigend one; Garstan, Garreth, and Harreld named two more between the three of them. This accounted for seven deaths, but not one for the eighth body lying nearby. Thornden explained that the one extra seemed to have been killed by someone else while he was knocked out by a dart. It seemed rather odd. Then there was Thornden's captive, making nine.

"That leaves three unaccounted for," Eodwine concluded. "Keep an eye and ear out, then." Just then, raucous and angry barking exploded in the distance. "Rowenna! Léof, help tie up Thornden's captive! Everyone else, follow me!"

"Lord, Léof and I will stay with Rilef!" Thornden said.

"Very well! We'll come back this way and meet up with you."

Eodwine picked up a bloodied sword lying next to one of the bodies, and dashed back the way he'd come, in the direction of the yammering dogs. Soon they came in sight. Rowenna and the boys stood with their backs to a big tree. Rowenna was holding the leashes of the five dogs who were snarling ferociously at two big men who stood with swords drawn. Just as they came in sight, the two men swung their blades down on two of the dogs, who were permanently silenced. The three remaining grew fiercer yet, snapping at the outlaws' arms.

"Hold!" Eodwine shouted. "You are outnumbered! Lay down your swords!"

Garstan, Stigend, Harreld, and Garreth spread out two to either side of Eodwine, and swords drawn, advanced step by step toward the two men.

"Lay down your swords, or die this day!" Eodwine warned.

The biggest gave Rowenna a dirty look, then threw down his sword. His fellow did likewise."

Eodwine directed his four men to bind them with the useless leashes of the two dead dogs. As soon as the two men were secured, Garstan and Stigend made way through the now calmed dogs (who were sniffing at their cohorts), to Garmund and Cnebba.

"Name yourselves!" Eodwine commanded. The two men said nothing.

"They are Ulric and Withold," Rowenna said. "Ulric is their leader, and a murderer of women and infants. Withold is only less an evildoer in that he takes orders from Ulric."

Ulric scowled at Rowenna. "I'll flay you, you traitorous witch!"

"Silence!" Eodwine commanded. "I am Eorl of the Middle Emnet, and you will be tried in my court tomorrow, and if your guilt is not countered, you shall hang." He looked to this men and said, "This band of outlaws has seen its final day of crime, it would seem."

"But lord," said Stigend, "only eleven are accounted for!"