I awoke before dawn, to find I lay alone in our bed. Reaching a hand over, I felt the blankets on his side still held his warmth. Waelden had not risen long ago.
Straining my hearing to detect any sound of movement or life from him or Ethel, I was soon satisfied I could hear none. It may be he had fallen asleep downstairs again, or more likely had set about the daily chores a little earlier than usual. It should be of no concern. In fact I did not ‘feel’ anything was out of order at all, except that every now and then, when he wasn’t there, I thought I could smell smoke. My family farm had been burned to the ground some time ago now. Rarely did I think of it. But there were some days when just a hint of the fear and horror of that night returned.
Then Rags jumped up on the bed, a darker black shadow in the poor light. He circled round a few times before curling up against me, purring reassuringly. Scratching him a moment behind her ears, I was fully satisfied all was well.
But I was awake, and pleasant though the prospect was of napping longer next to the rumbling comforter, I had plenty to be getting on with.
It was chilly. There was that awful moment when I swung my legs out of the bed and wished I had slept in a thick cloak.
Rags mumbled a small protest at my human folly, but curled himself in an even tighter ball and resumed purring. Not being blessed with a natural coat of fur, I hurriedly donned my thick overdress and shawl, pulled on my boots, and headed downstairs.
There was no sign of Waelden, nor that he had sought food or a drink. But his cloak was missing from the rack near the door, and the door itself was unlocked. He would not be far. Criba was locked up for the moment, so there was no worry concerning him, but the encounter with him had taken away some of my more innocent trust. Bancross was a good place to dwell. But nowhere was totally safe.
Taking my cloak down as well and wrapping it about me, I opened the door. A wall of pre-dawn cold hit me, that I shivered slightly. There were our lanterns also close to the door, so I took one up, checked it still had a reasonable candle in it, and lit the wick. If I could do something about the darkness, I would.
Yet there was something special, something wondrous as I walked outside, and looked around. The multitude of stars twinkled their icy light upon me. The waxing moon shed considerable gleam. And there were just a few notes of birdsong, waiting to greet the dawn.
Looking around again, I could make out a tiny spark nearer the yard. He was over by the horses, and smoking his pipe by the look and smell of things. I walked over, the lantern held steadily to show where I trod.
“Good morning, dear.”
Waelden was already turning in my direction before I spoke, a thoughtful but good humoured expression on his face. He made another small draw on the pipe before holding the heated bowl lightly.
“You are up early this morning, love. I hope I didn’t wake you?”
I shook my head and moved to stand close by him.
“I felt like a smoke. And I wanted a little time to think, and to just watch the sky.”
“You can smoke in the house. You know that.”
He winked. “Aye, but I can’t see the sky.”
I nodded understanding as I turned to look in the same direction as him. And there over the distant eastern hills, a pale golden pink light set fire to the edges of the sky.
“Beautiful, though not promising such a good day with the weather, eh?”
Waelden put an arm around my shoulders, resting it lightly, but sharing his warmth. “We are not through the winter yet.”
“Do you think the White Wizard is reaching out to Edoras now? I thought that the folk of Wildermore had put an end to those plans?”
Waelden sighed, taking another draw on his pipe. “We can’t know for certain what has happened. I say this could well be just a bad spell of natural weather. A chill that will turn into a proper spring.”
“I hope you are right. You may well be.”
I reached round his waist to give him a hug, then took a few steps nearer the horses. Wynn walked towards the fence and nudged me with her nose. It was no seeking of food, just a friendly and reassuring gesture such as Rags had offered earlier.
“I should go down to the garrison today, and speak with Denholm,” Waelden announced.
I suspected then the cause for his early rising. I turned back to face him, setting the lantern on the dry ground by my feet and rubbing Wynn’s nose.
“After the talk we all had at the market yesterday, it is time to take some action. Duncadda will see to the Hunt. I must see what Denholm thinks about our dwindling supplies,” he continued.
“But you don’t get on with Denholm!”
He grinned at my understatement. I could see his face clearly in the growing light now. He tapped his pipe. He was not intimidated by his brother-in-law.
“Ah! Do you want me to come with you?” I asked, hoping he would say ‘no’, but wanting to be supportive.
Wynn sensed my mood and laid her head against mine, in a gesture she had made since she was a filly. I felt comforted by her of course, as doubtless Waelden was comforted by his smoke at that moment.
“No. I can control my own reactions to him. I am not as certain I can control yours, love.”
Well aye, the last time… the first time I had met Denholm I had spoken my thoughts freely to him after he had insulted me. Waelden was ever the calmer in such situations. He knew what he was doing.
“And I will see if any scouts will be available to join our hunt,” he added.
“And ask after Criba? Will he be released soon?”
“I will deal with that too, love. I need to know what Denholm plans. I am sure of one thing there. He will not take kindly to any threat to Ethel either.”
With a sudden and glorious burst of pale light, the sun came up. For a few moments we were bathed in a field of gold. We were both silent. Then I blew out the remains of the candle in the lantern, and turned back to the house.
“I will start breakfast. It is my turn today.”
But Waelden’s thoughts seemed far away still. It was not like him to make no comment about a prospective meal.
“What is wrong, Greybeard?” I asked plainly.
He smiled at me, allaying my concerns, and tamped down the tobacco to extinguish the pipe. “I feel restless, that’s all.”
“Is it settling down again after Wildermore?”
He shook his head. “Restless this morning, I mean.”
He had as much on his mind as I, I thought. And while I had already spoken of concerns with Northgyth and Ymma, I was not certain he had really spoken with anyone. “Well if you can wait awhile for a proper meal, why don’t we ride out?” I suggested. “Duncadda will likely make all necessary arrangements for the area the Hunt is to be in, but we could take a little look as well?”
“Hmmm… maybe.”
Turning back to the house himself, Waelden gestured I should walk ahead.
“We could do that. Not that I think we will find much. The best boar hunting is to be found in the Eastfold. But a ride may still do me… us good. I will stop off at the garrison when we get back.”
“And breakfast can wait a little longer. Ethel does not need to be up early today. She will sleep in.”
So it was easily decided. Action often helped restlessness. We returned to the house for Waelden to leave Ethel a short letter, explaining where we were going. We also took the opportunity to eat some cold pork in the kitchen, and have a glass of mead each. It would suffice, and we were both a little merrier for it.
Then to the horses. He riding Ealfin as usual, and I Ealdhors, as I was trying to give Wynn more of a rest as her time drew nearer.
As we passed the garrison on the way to the main gate, Waelden halted and looked towards the barracks. Heartha waved to us as she made her way down the hill to the armoury, but there was no sign of Captain Denholm, or Sergeant Thilwend.
“As soon as I get back,” Waelden stated, setting Ealfin’s head towards the gate.
Now most villages tended to hunt quite close to their location, partly because it involved less travelling, and partly because it meant they did not venture onto another community's main hunting grounds. Northgyth had told me that most years the Hunt would travel out in the direction of Middlemead, and that sometimes they were joined by a few men from that village. On occasion they had gone as far as Stonedeans. But each year could be different. The main ploy was to avoid larger groups out of Edoras.
Neither Waelden nor I had any clear idea where to search. We had not seen any boar on our recent travels, though there used to be some groups not too far from my old home. In the end we decided to travel down the river, to the area where he and Ethel had once gone fishing. We knew Gamferth was a keen fisher, and that Ethel… if she could be prized away from the boar… was quite capable of landing several fish. I was thinking of trying my own hand.
“Don’t look at me,” Waelden chuckled. His mood had lifted somewhat now we were out in the meadows. “I didn’t catch a single fish last time. I am for the boar hunt.”
“And I am for patching you up if you are not careful,” I winked back.
But he would be careful. And so would Ethel. And Duncadda was a very experienced scout. This healer may well have time to fish, I thought.
The sun was warm on our backs, the air chill on our faces as we turned into the woodlands. And then stillness and shadow were upon us. The birdsong was more intense there, but a little less joyful. Slowly we rode on. It would not do to ride straight into a family of boar. It would not do to ride into any wayward orcs for that matter. Further south west we rode, sometimes in forest and searching keenly for any sign of our would-be quarry, and sometimes close to the river bank, with a clear view to the grasslands on the far side.
Eventually Waelden raised a hand to signal a halt.
“This was the spot,” he said.
Riding around a little it was plain to see it was a good site. “It would be easy to set up a few tents here. Running water, fishing, foraging in the woods there?”
“Aye, a good site. But no sign of any boar,” he replied with a hint of disappointment.
Both our horses stood calmly. Though their ears flicked back and forth, and they raised their heads to test the air for dangerous scent, they found no more threat than we did. No predators were close. No danger of any sort was near.
“There should be groups of boar here?” I asked, almost as concerned by the absence as I would be if one came out of the forest at us.
Waelden frowned. “All slain already? Or driven off?” He turned Ealfin to circle back part of the way we had travelled, his eyes searching the ground and undergrowth for any sign of the passing of the creatures.
I followed, also searching for any sign. I was beginning to feel a little uneasy. “The Eastfold is likely too far. Aldburg will have hunters out anyway. We need to find some boar nearer.”
Then through the trees snowflakes fell, landing on my hair and nose. So recently were we back from Wildermore that it was not a welcome sensation to me at all.
I rode out of the shade of the trees, to look up at a dark grey sky building in the north. Waelden was beside me almost immediately.
“Northgyth was right about another snowfall,” I told him.
“Aye. The snow clouds gather. Let’s hope they are of natural cause. But whatever has caused them, we must admit defeat for today. It’s time to head back home.”
