Rest was the common phrase being tossed around her. The healers told her to rest when she was sick with the strange illness going through Stangard. She told the young shieldmaiden, Niehstu, to rest after their recent fight with brigands. The word did not hit her thoughts until Règnwald told her to rest after turning down her offer to serve Stangard as a shieldmaiden again. Cèolswith had to stop herself from retorting his request. He reminded her that she did not have to leave the walls and fight. It was not her place.
He was right though. She stubbornly left the walls to find the supplies they were waiting for with Maeweyn. Her fever shot through her again, reminding her that she was still sick. Not a day soon after getting over the illness, she again went out. The cut on her sword-arm was a reminder that she pushed herself again.
Rest. She could have gone home to sleep. It was not far from the Mead Hall but Règnwald insisted on her taking a spare room in the hall. It was odd as well. Normally, she was the one making the spare rooms for guests of the Æthelwigend.
She found herself eating in the Mead Hall alone the day after. Her scrolls that cost her hours of her time reading over them were nowhere to be seen. Instead, she watched the hall staff bustle about, cleaning and prepping the hall for the day’s work. Fram and Gram, the Mead Hall’s guard, were playing some game on the Head Table to pass the time. The Æthelwigend was either already out on patrol or sleeping in. No one stopped to bother her other than to offer to refill her tankard.
The only thing missing from this rare moment of peace was a book that she regretfully left in Combe. The morning would have been perfect after a well-rested night.
