rohan

It was near sunset when the rider was spotted cantering up the snaking path that lead to the outpost of Stangard. The green and white banners snapped in the evening breeze, golden light bathing the rough palisade walls.

The last words of Eorland the Bowman, sung to Audelwyn of Harwick in the alliterative style traditional to the Rohirrim. Along with his parting words, he leaves her the worldly possessions not buried with him, including his horse, hauberk, horn, and cloak.

Many words were exchanged in the seconds after Rhavanielle passed out on the floor of the smithy. The first were exclamations of sympathetic shock. Then many others followed in amazement. For when the scholar's head landed, she suffered naught but a cut on her brow and a slight bruise. But more interesting to those at hand was the loss of the kerchief she wore over her hair. When the boy Hereward made fast to turn her over, her blade like ears protruded from her long brown-red hair and were noted by all.

Nelnardis tried not to look at the two boys rattling the door of her cell. They kept speaking in Rohirric, seemingly trying to get her attention.

“Maybe she only understands Westron,” one finally said in the common tongue.

Nelnardis didn’t go back to sleep. She couldn’t. Not while Thendryt was still out there on his own. She stared across the empty fields around the farm where Bovad and rider had disappeared into the distance. He must have known they wouldn’t go after him until dawn. He knew he would have the entire night for his personal errands.