I have not much motivation to write here, yet that is not because my days nor my mind have been empty of things of late. But I feel that recording one's life has some value in it. Whether anyone ever reads these pages after I am gone or not.
A little while I spent in Herne. The memories that shadowed that place were still present, but not overwhelming to me. Some nights I slept under the stars, as summer was still lingering and the weather was pleasant. Jack found his way back to the bridge where I had camped with Ryheric once upon a time. But it was not Ryheric who found us there, but Ned. His mare was with him, and also a hound. I expected him to be close about his identity and his past, but he shared quite freely, and it surprised me. Perhaps he is not entirely what I thought at first. Yet he carries that grave, kind dignity of the men of old. I have met few of them, but that trait they seem to share. He is not going as far south as I first believed, though he offered to escort me a short way on the road. A kind gesture, but we have not encountered each other since that evening, so I carry on with Jack.
I try not to think of Ryheric's fate. The silence could be a blessing. No dark figures pursue me or haunt my steps. Perhaps the threat is passed and he is traveling safely with his company again. I know that this may not be. Silence can also be the last thing one hears before the world bursts into flame. But I will hold to hope.
Jack seems smugly pleased to be on the road again. I think my dear old horse has got a taste for traveling in his old age. He endures a stable with what appears to be domestic contentment, but when he feels the weight of the bags on his saddle, I do not miss the pricking of his ears nor the eager stomping of his feet. I have become quite used to camping in the open air myself. Not by choice, but rather necessity, as we know. The settlements south of Herne are also few and far between. I do not relish the crossing into Dunland when the time comes, but let us think of that when it is closer to happening.
It is difficult to find sleep tonight. I think of the quarry, and my heart aches to run back to it. Then I think of the hearth-fires in Bancross, and I long to be there instead.
I wish at times that I had never left Rohan.
But...no. I cannot say that. I will not regret the love that I had. The love that I lost.
