I was lying flat on my belly. The thundering sound of hooves was coming ever closer as my left hand was calmly resting on top of Ansgar’s head. The large shaggy wolfhound by my side knew what was happening and stayed quiet.
I could see them approaching through the woods, which could not quite be called a forest. It was merely an accumulation of trees, with high thick grass and lush bushes between. Me and Ansgar were both well hidden by the vegetation and nature once again made us invisible to those grim looking, mail clad riders, bearing spears, and swords girded at their sides.
It wasn’t that these men were necessarily meaning us harm, but in times like these, precaution is always the better advice. We were getting closer to the gap and knowing of the war brewing in this region a lone wanderer with his dog would raise suspicion. Especially, if this wanderer bore the paint of the enemy on his chest.
Not that I was the enemy. In fact I am a half-bred. My mother was a Dunlending, whereas my father was a son of the horselords. I was born in one of the few regions of Rohan where both peoples lived together, more or less peacefully. But since my mother’s people had begun raiding the Westfold ever so often, even the Stonedeans became distrustful against their long-time neighbours.
It wasn’t long until they decided that land that was owned and tilled by my mother’s people for centuries should rightfully belong to them, and soon they were also coming to my door. My parents were long dead. A fever had taken them both a couple of winters ago. So after they took my land, my lifestock, and my horse, I had nothing left but Ansgar and some coins. And I decided to leave this forsaken place, in which injustice and murder seemed to be the future.
We had made our way south until we crossed into the Westfold, turning West, on our way to the lands of my mother’s people. A long time ago all this land belonged to them, yet wars had come and gone, and the victors received their share, whereas the men of Dunland had lost their claim. As is the way of life and history. I do not harbour a grudge against the Men of Rohan. Yet I do against men who are blinded by their lust for power.
