steora

Wherever I go on this island, them big grim lads is watchin'. iffen it aint master oldgrove its some other lad, starin' with them grey eyes, like wolves watchin' a new born foal. Aint much ter do at this lake-hold iffen they'm all watchin yer. So there aint much point stayin', and Oldgrove he'em keen ter be off back ter Brig bewiccan. I got ter find Gyth, and bawde... an' we got ter get into the dead town.

Oldgrove takes me west out o' the dead-fields. In the dark, I dursen't recognise much, but we goes further than I ever been. Past some stone lords at a cross-road, past the tombs of dead folk... and then.. and then... I sees...

Bawde is wrong. These northmen ain't like men at home. I still got both my hands an' all my fingers.

I bin runnin' scared fer weeks that iffen I get caught taking things these northern folk will have a knife out, slap me hand on an oak stump and... well I dursn't have ter say more. Bawde says they'm like men at home - an' I knows iffen a warrior or an eorl says you done summat, then a poor lass's word counts fer nothin'.

Steora Sweofthand ... you'm a straw headed fool an' no mistake. Iffen Bawde finds out, you'm goin' ter get it hot.

I dursen't seem ter be able ter help myself. See, this Oldgrove up at the brigand's camp, he says ter me 'Come with me m'lass and yer shall have a good dinner, a soft bed an' some warm clothes'.

And so, I did. He has a fine enough mare and so we both rides her, as quick as quick, through the dead fields and down ter the Bridge-town. Now I gets him ter promise that he'll bring me back ter Gyth and Bawde ... an' ...

Summat important must be in this fornost place. Now yer would expect that a dead city - full of bone-men, corpse-walkers and shadow-men wouldn't be full of live 'uns like me an' Gyth an' Bawde. But ...

Me an' Gyth an' Bawde, we come up ter  Bryg Bewiccan - that dead-city, Fornost. That bloody wealas, Araenion, guides us up in ter the dead fields almost ter the gates, further than I bin on my own, to an old tumble down fortress – an' then … he leaves us. Without a by-yer-leave or nothin'... just goes out in ter the mist an' he's gone. Well, I'm buggered if I'm going a-chasin' after him again.

I'm all fer a good tale. But this aeranion goes on an' on ... I dursent understand a third o' what he says. Gyth's eyes are as bright as the sun ... i aint able ter keep mine open. He's spinnin' some nonsense about this fornost. Taint what Gyth heard from her burnt man. I dursen't know what ter think about him and this araenion now.

Makin' me mind up though. Iffen I aint trusted, an' he is being paid by the burnt man... then feh.. iffen I going ter be hung fer a lie then I may as well be hung fer a truth. Iffen the burnt man dursent trust me, then i shant bother being honest.

so he aint dead. i'm thinkin' we might wish he were. He turns up back at the bridge town, just as I finish collectin' some coins from the local folk... Gyth being his 'pore ol' young widdow' an' all. Heh, well it were worth a try. Stupid Bawde made me give all the coins back once that Araenion showed his face again though. Gyth made a good widdow... she'm was proper cryin' and she'm very pretty when she does it too. I jus' goes all red and blotchy.