Still in Bree, two days before we set out east. The tavern of Barliman was filled with men of the mark this day, drinking, laughter and boasting about their strength. It attracted the attention of many other people who joined without invitation, the savage tribesman a shady sea captain and some other patrons. Melowen clearly recovered from her wounds as she was already picking a fight with this savage who is about twice her size.
No matter how much I objected the company moved south of Bree to an old bridge to look at a wrestle brawl between the reckless Melowen and the oversized tribes man. She squirmed in his armlock while the large man was enjoying himself. When Melowen started to turn blue and red she broke free and worked man on the ground. A short moment of victory as she was flying in to cold river afterwards. By this time lord Tidhelm requires my attention, he was holding a withered backpack. We walked away from the others for a little more privacy. He told me the old lady Theofola found this near the old bridge where the brawl was held. When he opened it a foul scent of death and decay filled my nose, and my stomach turned. Tidhelm wanted me to look more closely at the bags content. It was a head, I recognized the half decayed and mutilated face. It was Leofmund... Full of disgust I nudged him to close the bag again, and demanded an explanation. Tidhelm knew nothing more then he already told me. He gave me the bag and agreed to give Leofmund a proper burial, or at least what is left of him.
I rode alone towards the northern burial place of Bree, and arranged a tombstone and a burial place by the caretaker. He gave me a spade and I dug a deep hole and dropped his head in it. I reached in my pocket and found the note he gave me when he left us, and buried it with him. Although I regarded him as a friend, we never had a lot of time to talk, and I knew little about this man.
The stone reads: Here rests Leofmund, son of the Riddermark
The sun was shining playfully through the branches of the old oak tree, and the graveyard looked peaceful on this cold winter day. "Rest well my friend, may you find the halls of your forebears.". I stood alone staring at the tombstone, pondering about this new turn of events. A dark cloud covered the sun, and the shadow over the graveyard suddenly gave a feeling of dread. A crow landed on the tree hipping on his branch, looking sideways at me.
My thoughts wandered in the shadows of the cloud, reliving the journey. So Tidhelm did not lie, Leofmund was captured and killed in Isengard. And now they bring me his head, to demoralize or to warn us? So the wizard knows we fled to Bree, the fleeing man-orks must have reported that when we rescued Tidhelm from them, not far from here. Or we are being spied upon, and our plans to return to the Mark are already known to the wizard... Who can be trusted and who can not.
