Regnwald

Pale eyes raised from the meagre meal that rested on captain's table, flashing they took in the red-clad form before him. The tankard was raised from trestle in saluted greeting. ''Westhu hāl.''

Ceolswith greeted in return, "Westhu hal, Æthelwigend. I heard you returned. I just wanted to see how you fare."

Rest was the common phrase being tossed around her. The healers told her to rest when she was sick with the strange illness going through Stangard. She told the young shieldmaiden, Niehstu, to rest after their recent fight with brigands. The word did not hit her thoughts until Règnwald told her to rest after turning down her offer to serve Stangard as a shieldmaiden again. Cèolswith had to stop herself from retorting his request. He reminded her that she did not have to leave the walls and fight. It was not her place.

Today in Stangard was no different than the other, pain, rumors and qualms had taken the townsfolk between its arms, even for a summer day, it was a day of grief. The guard in the tower frowned slightly as his trained ears picked up the thudding of hooves coming beyond, some fifteen riders, a boy, and a man dragged by the brown-stallion.

''Open the gate!''

The silvery drops of morning dew slowly settled upon the green leaves of summer as the sun began its journey across the heavens.  The coming dawn had painted the sky into a crimson splendour, and a gust of chilly wind blowing to eorling warrior's face.

Régnwald strode along a sheep trail, then crossed over a ridge to find a smoldering ruin of a hut, a few sheep about. Five rough-looking men were eating at a fire-pit. He edged forward, eyeing the smoke, and they eyed him warily.

''Wyrm came in the night.'' spoke the first man.

A tall man clad in fur and leather walked down the road with quick steps, his head tilted downward and an umber hood was shadowing his face as if not willing to be seen. He leaned forward, a torch lightening his way until he arrived the stables, glancing about in search of someone.