The two Reeves stood opposite each other, in the currently empty Mead Hall of Cliving. There was a slight air of challenge between them, both being proud men. They stood tall, saying nothing, watching each other in the dimly lit room. Reeve Ingbert folded his large weathered hands together behind back. Reeve Athelward crossed one arm over the other, covered in the rich fabric of his tunic. Ingbert frowned, the wrinkles on his old skin deepening. He bowed his head slightly, still trying to keep his dignity, even when coming to another Reeve for help, one whose hair was still coloured and face less creased with age. Athelward’s eyes glinted and a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. Seeing the older Reeve like this was enjoyable, especially as the old man had been stubborn and boasted that Eaworth would never fall under his watch. Not only had Eaworth been taken, but the entire Entwash Vale, which Ingbert was responsible for as Reeve. It was humiliating for Ingbert and amusing for Athelward.
Reeve Athelward took a few steps closer to Ingbert, saying nothing but raising his brow, the amused look still in his eyes. Ingbert clenched his fist behind his back. He finally spoke: “Reeve Athelward. As you know Eaworth is overrun by-“
Athelward interrupted, “Orcs, yea. And you want me to send my men to get it back.”
Ingbert stood up straight, “That would be most generous of you-“
He was interrupted again, “If I want to, yea. But why would I want to do that?”
Ingbert pursed his lips and eyed the other Reeve, “All of the Entwash Vale is taken. I’m-“
It seemed that Athelward liked to interrupt, “Exactly. It would be a risk for my men. They will probably be outnumbered. They may get ambushed. I could lose all my men, which would put me in a bad position.”
Ingbert tried to persuade him, “I would send my men too. We could scout. We need the Entwash Vale - if the orcs have it, they can target other towns. Cliving would probably be the next target-“
"Theoden cyning tells us that we cannot patrol."
"This will not be a patrol. Theoden cyning would be mad to tell us that we cannot reclaim our lands if we have been driven out of them by orcs!" Ingbert shouted, getting tired of the other Reeve's excuses. Athelward took a step back, realising that he was now testing the other Reeve's patience. He could help but give one last jab at the senior man.
“Why should I trust your judgment on this? You are the one which lost the entire Entwash Vale.”
Ingbert gritted his teeth, “You know I’m right. You just want to revel in my failure. You need to do this.”
Athelward finally nodded, after a few moments of heavy silence, “Alright. I’ll send half my men alongside yours to reclaim your town.”
Ingbert nodded back in return, “Thank you, Reeve Athelward.” He turned on his heel and marched himself out of the Mead Hall. As he got to the doors, he heard Athelward say his name.
“Reeve Ingbert. Don’t make me regret this.”
Ingbert spoke loudly back across the room, “Eaworth will be reclaimed. We cannot let it stay like this.” He stepped quickly out of the door, leaving Athelward on his own.
The Reeve of the Norcrofts muttered to himself, “I hope that his optimism isn’t wrongly placed.”
