How much can change in a week's time? The meadhall of Walstow used to be a place where the fighters drank and feasted with their thane yet no mead has flown in days. Every spill has been cleaned, every table has been polished and every happy drunk now needs to drink at home. Tidhelm smiled to himself when he gazed around the interior of the meadhall. The old noble couldn't keep himself from speaking out loud:"Winsig should take council with the reeve more often! The meadhall hasn't looked as splendid as it does now in years." The maid that walked towards Tidhelm with his meal nodded to the old man, placing his dinner in front of him. Steaming hot pea soup and simple dark bread. "But don't you think that it has lost some of its..spirit, sir?" the maid said softly. Tidhelm simply responded with a stern responce before shooing the maid away again: "Winsig may defile this hall again when she returns." The maid bowed and walked to the door just before a loud knock broke the silence of the hall. Tidhelm rose to his feet, annoyed about his disturbed dinner. "Guests? At this hour? Let them in, will you?"
Five men entered the meadhall. In the middle walked an older veteran who obviously had too many years behind him. His hair was grey and he walked with much effort. To his sides walked the complete opposite. Two young riders who still resembled children more than soldiers. Two guards of Walstow followed the three inside. Rough looking fellows who hailed from the Wold and on Tidhelm's behest had been made guards. The five halted before the seat of the thane, on which Tidhelm had been sitting the whole time while eating his dinner. He raised his voice slightly and spoke:"Greetings, guests of Walstow! It is my displeasure to inform you that our gracious thane Winsig has rode to Snowbourn to take council with the reeve, taking with her most of our riders. If I, Tidhelm her regent, can be to your service please say so."
The older veteran spoke, his chain mail bearing the king's sigil clearly too heavy for his old bones: "We have come for you, Tidhelm. We request that you come with us to Edoras at this instance. The king commands it." Tidhelm raised his right eyebrow for a second before taking his seat again. The old nobleman took his spoon in his hand and seemed to continue with his dinner before saying: "If it is the King's command then I will accompany you yet not before dinner. Might I also ask why you ride to Walstow to come get me like I am some sort of criminal?" The old veteran continued speaking, standing now right before the table on which Tidhelm's dinner was served. The man's tone was more harsh this time, almost demanding: "Dinner can wait. I have orders to take you to Edoras as soon as possible."
Tidhelm looked upon the veteran and his two lackeys for another moment. They all seemed tense. Too tense. Tidhelm cleared his throat but still spoke in a more broken voice than normal: "Have I done something wrong?" One of the young recruits stepped forward, done with formalities. He almost shouted against Tidhelm, unable to control his anger:"You are a traitor and you know it! Stop this nonsense, captain Alfrith." The veteran looked behind him at the young rider before looking at Tidhelm again. "It seems that all card are now on the table. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Tidhelm." The old rider moved his hand on the pommel of his blade, still in his sheath. The two young riders followed their captain's example and the guards of Walstow already had their axes in their hands. Tidhelm looked at them all for a moment before smiling to them all. The noble stood up again and said:"This must be one big misunderstanding. Of course I will ride to Edoras with you, Alfrith. But first let me tell you one thing before we leave?" The captain nodded to the old noble yet Tidhelm only looked at the two guards of Walstow, who gave him a quick nod. The old man grabbed the bowl that still held his steaming hot soup and said: "Do you think that my soup is too hot?"
Before Alfrith could even respond the steaming green liquid was already burning on his face. The old rider lost all sense of direction as he grabbed his face in anguish and pain while falling to the wooden floor. Screams came from behind him, or was it in front of him? Were it his own screams? The pain that he felt on his face was all consuming. Dark thoughts came to the man's mind. This is my end? Will I die? Just before the screams faded away just like the rest of his spirit, the old rider heard a whisper close by, that seemed to overshadow even his own maimed thoughts. The words spoke to him. They were cold and devoid of all emotion. "And so falls Alfrith, fool and failure."
All went black, all went cold.
