She walked gracefully back to her room, her faked smile turning back into a worrisome scowl. And the room was not her room; it was a spare guest room of the Mead Hall. Her house was temporarily given to a woman that was not even supposed to be in Stangard. Her close friend, Cynebur, had left Forlaw to check on them and in the meantime, ran into a growing camp of orcs. That left Céolswith lying on her back in bed, which was uncomfortable in her mind, and staring at the ceiling while her recently broken nose throbbed and ached in pain from being broken in a sparring match.
The Quartermaster knew she was not going to sleep. There was just too much on her mind to sleep peacefully. Tidhelm’s story about spotting orcs was becoming the true nightmare she had been worrying about since taking the job. If it were not for the sickness that claimed the lives of kinsmen, as well as a few horses, she would have felt better about the undermanned Éored. Except that it was fact and Stangard was about to be surrounded, choked slowly to death if the walls stood.
She did not have the heart to tell Niehstu about the incoming danger when she stopped to speak with her at the feast. Like always, Céolswith tried to keep a straight face and assure the others that everything was fine. Deep down, she wanted to speak with Régnwald about her worries. There was a shortage of able warsteeds and a short time to prepare. Cynebur mentioned three hundred orcs. The Æthelwigend, himself, mentioned something about orcs in his last patrol. Like her aching nose, the thoughts of being surround were making her feel confined.
A buzzing fly halted her thoughts. She tried to watch it as it flew around, coming closer and leaving her. ‘Well, there goes sleeping,’ she thought as she got out of bed. There were things to do.
Moments later, she was standing with the weaponsmiths. They were woken up as swords needed to be sharpened. Céolswith spent the next few hours with them, helping with getting them ready. She was dressed in basic scale-mail, for the time being, with her sword by her side. Then Régnwald found her. The rest of the day would be hectic. Sleep was not coming for her anytime soon.
After getting the men fed at the East Gate, she and the woman, Caelia, returned to the Mead Hall. It was close to night, when she finally sat down under a table that was stacked by a wall. Her plumed helm rested in her lap. It was close to her shift as Gate Commander. The once shieldmaiden that had never gone on patrol before, was now stepping in to command the gate and keep an eye out for the incoming army. For now, it was time for a bit of a nap before a folawigend woke her up. Only Béma, if he was watching, would know when she could sleep again.
