rohan

As they wish to draw attention to themselves, to show they mean no threat, Waelden takes out his pipe and lights it. Then he begins singing one of the old songs from the Mark. 

Hwær cwom mearg? Hwær cwom mago? Hwær cwom maþþumgyfa? Hwær cwom symbla gesetu? Hwær sindon seledreamas? Eala beorht bune! Eala byrnwiga! Eala þeodnes þrym! Hu seo þrag gewat, genap under nihthelm, swa heo no wære.

Ealdbriht is a suprise visitor to Waelden's old house.

He is on a mission to bring news, though most of what he says to them concerns friends back in Bancross. He tells Ethel that Bronna is asking after her, and misses her.

'Surely you didn't travel all this way to tell Ethel that?' Waelden says with a chuckle.

'No, I bear messages from Averel Thane for Radwig, and certain others, as you likely suspect.' The man nods back at Waelden. His real mission is a serious one.

A tapestry that hangs in Meduseld, the Golden Hall of Edoras, depicting the Oath of Steward Cirion of Gondor and Eorl of the Éothéod swearing an oath of allegiance to one another

Approximately one year ago. The figure stepped through the rain and Ryheric stepped forward to meet whoever it was. The chances of friendly faces was slim and he was ready to attack. But it only took moments for him to recognise the silhouette and regal movements of her. His initial hostile rush forward became something else. Eagerness. Gladness. They stopped and held a regard of each other for one moment. Then there were introductions, revelry, borrowed mead in the storehouse, mischief and merry-making.

The fugitive Elves tame a few of the famed horses of the Riddermark to speed them on their journey home, and away from their former captors.

The group find a recent camp of folk from Stangard, and settle to wait on any Elves approaching them. They know they are being watched.

We halted briefly at Eorl's Hallow, on our way to Floodwend. The site is very close to the town. It is a beautiful place to see at any time, but I had asked Waelden if we could stop there. 

I was reaching out for any aid I could. The memory I associated with that place, and the inspiration it gave me of my people may have added a little to my fading strength.

We had visited the place three years earlier, and Waelden had explained the writing, while I had reveled in the pictures. 

It has helped for a couple of days. Not long enough.....