Scarburg Meadhall

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Athanar dismissed them, and Thornden and Coenred immediately turned and headed back towards the stables to get their search parties together.

"Gather the men, Thornden, we will speak to them and separate into parties once we are all assembled."

"Aye, sir," Thornden responded. He approached Hilderinc and Áforglaed who stood nearby apparently waiting for orders. "We're going to send out search parties, we are to assemble at the stables and prepare to move out as quickly as possible," he said.

Hilderinc nodded. "Yes, sir."

It was the first time he was actually under direct orders from Thornden in a more important matter, so he did not know how much he was expected to talk or if he should just listen, but Hilderinc was not used to entirely push away his thoughts if they troubled him. Áforglaed's words about possible threat from the local lords took some root in his mind after all, and it was always important to know what they were standing against before starting to prepare for the action. He also preferred to ask the question himself than to let obviously agitated Áforglaed to start spilling his thoughts in front of the new commander. "Has there been an attack, sir?" he added.

Thornden paused briefly. "No. The man who attacked Scyrr there," he pointed, "has escaped and lord Athanar wants him brought back. The captain will give whatever further details are necessary when everyone is gathered."

Hilderinc nodded. Áforglaed cast a worried look at Scyrr's figure.

"Is Scyrr okay? Could I-" he straightened himself and apparently forced himself to acknowledge the fact that he was talking to his new commander; in Hilderinc's opinion, he seemed to be able to control himself quite well.

"Scyrr is my friend. Could I just take a look at him, sir? I would like to be sure he is all right... only a moment, I will be at the stables immediately, sir," Áforglaed said.

Thornden nodded distractedly, he had too much on his mind to argue or say no for no apparent reason. Áforglaed rushed away towards the lying body. Hilderinc turned to walk towards the stables.

"I believe most of the men will be around there still, sir," he said to Thornden. "We should be able to ride out soon. We should be able to find the culprit fast, unless -"

He suddenly recalled a man he had briefly spotted riding away during the training. Thornden seemed to acknowledge that they could continue speaking together. It had now occured to Hilderinc that it was likely some soldier informing Thornden about the event, or perhaps riding out on his order. That would mean, however, that there had passed already some time since the crime happened.

"Unless," he continued, "sir, is it so that the man you sent away during the training was a scout sent to look for the culprit already? In that case, the culprit has a bit of a time advantage, if he wasn't caught already by that soldier."

Thornden was about to say, "I sent no one out," when he bit down on his tongue as it nearly delivered those very words. He looked sharply, sidelong at Hilderinc, and his expression was sour. Confound you for your stupid pretense back there. You idiotic fool. Of course someone saw you, and of course he'll say something. Many other explenatives came to mind, directed both towards himself and towards Hilderinc, but now his thoughts were racing to think of something to say.

"I was not the one who sent that man out. Scyrr was attacked after we had all left for the drills. It is possible that he was sent out by someone here to follow Erbrand," he conceded.

The mentioning of the culprit's name made Hilderinc forget all other questions for that moment.

"So it was Erbrand?" he said aloud, surprised at first. But once he started to think about it, the surprise easily faded away. Erbrand was, after all, the one from whom he would have expected something like that. This had completed Hilderinc's picture of Erbrand: a hot-headed brawler seeking out fights wherever he could. Sad, in a way, he thought. But obviously Erbrand is a two-faced man, dangerous, possibly using all the energy which he cannot let off during his playing and at work only for fighting. He was the one who attacked Áforglaed yesterday, and now Scyrr... Considering this, Áforglaed was quite lucky. It easily could have been him lying on the ground in a very bad state.

Hilderinc remembered his meeting with Erbrand in the morning. It seemed to him back then that Erbrand was trying to test Hilderinc's strength or recruit him into his gang. Perhaps he was disappointed with the result and went to let off his frustration by attacking the nearest victim? Hilderinc had met more fighters who were like that...

"He seemed to me like the local troublemaker," he finished his sentence. "I assume you used to have tough times with him as well."

Thornden clenched his jaw. At a normal time he would answer cooly, and correct Hilderinc and his flawed thinking mildly, but right now there were more pressing thoughts on his mind than being polite.

"We didn't have any local troublemakers here at Scarburg," he said. "Lord Eodwine saw to that. Erbrand was quick to defend his honor, and the honor of those he loved, and he is hot tempered, but he is not a troublemaker. It's as well to get that clear in your mind before we search for him, so that you and your men don't loose your heads if you find him, and treat him as though he were some witless brawler." His voice brooked no argument, it was tight with impatience and, if Hilderinc had known it, fear.

They entered the stables as he spoke, and there were many men there waiting, some with their horses still in the aisles, others waiting outside the stalls.

[Folwren]

“All the soldiers are to gather in the stables. Don’t unsaddle your horses, we’re going back out.” The word spread among the soldiers as they worked both within the stables and without. Quin looked up as his hands paused while losing the girth of his horse’s saddle. The passing message bearer placed his hand on Quin’s horse’s powerful haunch. “Better tighten up again, lad, we’re needed.”

The man went on and Quin turned again to prepare his horse for riding. The question of what they were going out again for briefly passed through his mind before it was gone and he was only paying attention to getting ready to take his orders. He left his horse and followed the others to the stables to hear what they were to do.

As all the soldiers and men-at-arms drew near, Thornden cast his eyes quickly over them. He roughly counted their number, verified that most, if not all, were present, and then turned to Coenred to tell them all what was going on.

--

Saeryn

Saeryn agreed to go out with lady Wynflaed. As they drew near, she saw lord Athanar dismiss Thornden and Coenred. The two men walked swiftly towards the stables. Something about Thornden’s expression caught Saeryn’s attention, even from the distance that separated them. The tight rigidness about his eyes and mouth worried her. He seemed harder, with a sterner command over himself than the trouble with Erbrand or his disappearance called for. Something troubled him greatly.

She barely had time to determine these things before they were drawing close to Athanar and he came to meet them. She looked at him, and then glanced quickly at Wynflaed, hoping to catch some indication of what she gathered of Athanar’s mood. To Saeryn, he seemed tense and angry, but that was not surprising. But then a swift curve of his mouth into a wry smile made her think perhaps he was a bit irritated, too.

“Excuse me my outfit. What can I do for you, my ladies?” he asked.

Saeryn stopped half a step behind Wynflaed, and then folded her hands before herself and waited until her time to speak.

[Durelin]

Coen returned to the stableyard where the men were still waiting, surely wondering what orders could await them, and what might have broken the peace so in this young hall in this fledgling emnet, but quiet and orderly, waiting for a command without gossip or questioning. At least not more than a few words under than breaths. Some might have been as apparently surprised and concerned as Thornden was about the tanner being a fugitive, and the others were perhaps grimly setting their minds for a rocky new start in these lands.

"There will be one party on foot lead by Captain Thornden to search and maintain security around the hall." He picked out several men to stay with this party from those he knew well, including Hilderinc. "Two small parties into the marshes; we need men who know the land well to lead these," he said, asking for volunteers or looking to Thornden to point them out. He then pointed out the rest of the men for each of these parties, including at least one of 'his' men.

Once they were chosen, he continued. "The final party will ride with me to the south; we will cover as much distance as we can to be back by nightfall." He chose his men for this, including a couple of local men who would be helpful for knowing the terrain and the local inhabitants. "Those remaining," he began again, which were very few, "you will stable the remaining horses and secure the barracks." They would have some help from the stablehands, but Coen was not one to leave all the work in the hands of the servants.

The men hurried to report to the leaders of their respective parties, Coen leading his horse from the stable and out to the edge of the yard where the other riders gathered. He gave Thornden a look before mounting up that told him that he would not lay aside his distrust for the man until he learned the truth or Erbrand and Lithor were found and Thornden proved himself a just man by not defending them if there was no defense to be made.

"The soldier Lithor," he began, calling out to the assembled parties again; the word 'soldier' was flat on his lips, "is also at this time unaccounted for. There is no proof that he is in any way connected with the fugitive, but until he is accounted for, be aware that we may be dealing with two men. We are all to return by night fall."

Coen and the riders rode south, looking and asking for any sign of the fugitive Erbrand, though the Captain worked on the assumption that Lithor was with him, or had fled as well.

[Firefoot]

Saddle this horse, stable that one. Bring one horse in. Let another out to graze. Léof wasn’t even totally sure how many horses were in residence at Scarburg at the moment, much less which horse belonged to which rider. Chaos, absolute chaos, that was all these new folk had brought with them. People seemed to be in and out of the stable at all hours of the day or night and he didn’t know who half of them were or if they had any legitimate business in the stable.

Honestly, it was an accident waiting to happen. Already things were getting misplaced, and that was only a step away from lost or stolen. As glad as he was that several of the newcomers were brushing down their own mounts, they didn’t always put things back in the proper places.

And it didn’t help that most of them seemed to regard him as having very little real authority. He’d heard the term “stableboy” tossed around more than once, and it was starting to grate. He had always been slender, it was true, and the scruff on his chin resembled a beard in the same way a Hobbit’s pony resembled one of the Mearas, but he had put on a couple of inches in height during the last couple months (finally – it had only taken nearly seventeen years). That ought to count for something, right?

But such was his lot. Too old (and with too many responsibilities) to run around with Javan and the younger boys, but too young for real camaraderie with the men of the hall. He’d been hopeful to see that the younger of the new lord’s sons seemed about his age, though his hope had been somewhat dampened since their arrival, in large part because of Lithor’s trial earlier that morning. Both brothers had seemed to him then like troublemakers, at least to some degree. Maybe they just weren’t sure how to fit in here yet. It might yet be worth some sort of friendly overture to Wilheard; first impressions were not always correct.

But now there was some fuss going on in the stableyard; the soldiers were all gathering. They’d been putting their horses away, and now they were going back out? He rushed out in time to hear the captain of the men-at-arms dispensing instructions for search parties. They were after… Lithor? Had there really been some credence to the trial against him this morning? And some fugitive whose name Léof had not heard. He thought a moment. Lithor had been through the stables with Erbrand earlier, he thought, though he had paid little mind. He’d been more focused on getting the stable in some semblance of order before all the soldiers brought their horses back from drills. What in Middle-earth was going on? Chaos, just like he’d said.

He spotted Thornden only a couple of feet away heading somewhere, but Léof caught his attention: “Thornden! What’s going on here?”

[Folwren]

For some reason, Thornden’s heart beat harder and harder as Coenred gave his commands. He felt almost as though he were about to lose command of himself, about to panic, or to run himself. He stood by, however, his mouth shut, his eyes fixed on the captain, appearing on the outside as calm as anyone would expect him to feel on the inside. Finally, the orders were given and the soldiers began to split up. He had his men and they started to move out to search the premises.

As the other soldiers were mounting up to ride out, Thornden led his men across the courtyard. But as they were leaving the vicinity of the stable, Leof caught his eye.

“Thornden! What’s going on here?” he asked, walking towards him.

Thornden changed his direction to meet Leof. “You haven’t heard what has been going on?” he asked. Leof gave him an answer to the negative. Thornden ran his hand swiftly through his hair and glanced towards his men, waiting halfway across the courtyard. “Erbrand apparently lost his temper and just about killed one of Athanar’s men, Scyrr.” He nodded in the direction of the wagon wherein Scyrr lay, half dead. “And he ran for it. We’re searching for him. And Lithor.” He shrugged, and his eyes scanned the area in a swift circle. “He’s gone, too.”