I ride to Bancross, trusted Ealdbriht as my solitary guard. Better one who will stand with me than five, any of whom may stab me in the back.
Aldholm will have already hurried to his true ‘master’. May it be that my latest lie, that I hold in my possession all four artifacts, will make those who seek to abuse power think twice? If my words are believed, they know they will face much resistance from what lies hidden in my village.
Alas, it is but another ruse. If challenged, I can do naught but trust to the two wards already in place, and to the strength of arm and heart of my folk.
Now, all my time must focus on finding that final piece, and on preparation.
For I am a marked man. A dead man riding. They will seek to end me for my deception. They will most assuredly want rid of one of the few who knows how to stand against them.
So should I flee, I have pondered, not to save my life, but to distract the Reeve and his circle from making for Bancross immediately? For attempting to usurp my position.
A day or two’s pursuit of me westward might just give Denholm time to make his stand. But he is a soldier, not a scholar. Without my knowledge the village will fall no matter what.
The garrison will defend from many a mortal foe, but from other sorts…nay. Face like with like, was my intention. May I still have time.
The path to Edoras seems busier than usual this evening. Even in such dreadful weather, some riders and a caravan of traders head for the city. The folk huddled low on their mounts, wrapping cloaks tight about them. They are a grim faced and tight lipped bunch. No spring travellers, avoiding a light shower, but cold folk with a gale at their backs.
Ealdbriht and I have it in our faces.
Even before we cross the river there is a call on the wind, of notification we approached Very good. They keep an eagle-eyed watch. I knew I was right to trust Denholm and his guards here. The few I see are seasoned farmers or youngsters though, maybe that is all the Captain could get with my money?
“Hail, the gate,! I called as we drew closer. “Two riders out of Edoras, coming home.”
There were already two wagons, and a small number of riders by the gate watchmen, likely all pulling into Bancross to take shelter from the weather. We rode past them.
“Oi, you there! Will you wait your turn,” one of the guards called out, lowering his spear to bar my entrance.
Ealdbriht was beside me in an instant, his expression one of grim annoyance. I bade him not react. The boy was young of face and voice.
“Since when does a gateman order the Thane of Bancross to wait his turn!” my companion announced pointedly, then drew back again as instructed.
The guardsman's face dropped. He was very young. He was not someone I recognised. Likely he had never before encountered me. The other watchman was with us in a second, squinting up in the lessening light and raising his torch.
“Thane Averel! Apologies my Lord. Of course you should ride straight ahead.! He placed his fist over his heart in a sign of allegiance, and bowed his head. He also kicked the first guard lightly.”Stand back, Brinin.”
Turning again to me, the second guard continued, “Please forgive this fool, my Lord. He is one of our newer recruits.”
I nodded at the genuine concern. Was there still a chance my people would listen to me? The long absences, the foppish behavior, the studied negligence, it had all made me out as a careless fool myself. I could count on little support, but perhaps a few remembered me as I once was?
I nodded firmly, but not ungraciously.
“On this occasion it is of no concern. May all soon know me better.” I raised a hand, and turned in the saddle to view again the short queue being buffeted by the mounting winds. “ The weather is most inclement, let these good folk in to find shelter as soon as they have been checked.”
I would have all inside immediately, but I had not forgotten that enemies could also be devious. I had no intention of giving access to another Criba or his ilk.
The guards called back up the path for additional numbers, as I rode on,
For the briefest of moments I grinned at the thought of that red-headed women, Hildfrith, trying to accommodate and feed the growing throng. I would have the Mead Hall open that same night, to house any fleeing the storm. But there was much else I must be about. A few words with the Captain to bring him up to date, a request for the services of that mountain man, and perhaps another, then on to the search for the mithril bowl.
Bah, all this now for a bowl, albeit one made and used by Elven folk.
I looked to the sky a moment before turning my horse down to the garrison. Ealdbriht drew alongside me.
“It's only the wind, but for a moment there I thought I could hear horses, my Lord. Would it not be a fine thing to have a well-commanded eored come after us to give aid?” His expression was wry.
I gave my true-man a look that said ‘No aid will come from Edoras.”
Ealdbriht already knew that. He nodded and sighed.
Above us the sky was pitching and turning, white clouds raced, almost as if they were part of an eored, in pursuit of an invisible quarry, while the grey seemed like a striding mountain.
‘Bema aid us’ I muttered my prayer. ‘Maybe it will not be this night, but the battle will be soon.’
