Each morning I awoke, it was as if I have never left Grimslade. My mother would still weave in silence by the kitchen, Hilda sang of the ride of Eorl. People would start to recognize me and greet as I walked by. I spent my days in reflection, helping in the house chores or telling of the strange things I saw on my journeys.
I went to the armsman, as my father's letter indicated. When I told him who I was, he took my measures and asked me to return in a few days. I had a suspicion of his reasons, but kept it to my own. I would not want to spoil my father's surprise to me.
A few days after I arrived, I awoke with a tall and sturdy woman looking at me. What a surprise to learn she was the little sister with skinned knees and bruises, barely ten winters old! Now a shieldmaiden by her own doing. Father must have been very proud of Aethelwynn!
Einar, my brother, arrived one week after me. I saw him riding side by side with Grimbold Thane, his shield polished to shine like silver. It didn't take him long to find me with the crowd that watched the éored march. And as soon as he recognize me, he broke formation to embrace me in a bear's hug.
Of all I missed in my long years away from Rohan, none were so dear as my brother. Five years older than me and the role model I always looked after. Fierce warrior, fair captain and a man of honor. We were never alike. I always looked more like my father, tall and bony, my eyes clear green. Einar is muscular, eyes the collor of dark moss, like those of my mother. While I was prone to melancholy and solitude, he was always the herald of laughter, surrounded by people.
I finally felt I was home again. As I relived my youth, we talked long about all that has happened in the ten years I was gone. I told him of Gondor, of Bree, the road back to Rohan and all the meaningless details. He told me of Grimslade, of Hilda, the two miscarrieges they had.
We got drunk many times, raising toasts to our reunion. Sometimes Aethelwynn would join us and even Hilda. I do not know if he believed I would remain in Grimslade. Perhaps he knew what was in my mind much before I did.
When I went to the armsman once again, he delivered my father's last gift. The red steel armor worn when he rode as the king's guard during his youth. It was adjusted to my measures and oiled so it would not trouble my movements. I remember admiring this armor when I was a child. I tried to pay the man with the little rich I had, but he refused.
With that, it was time to leave. I have fulfilled my promise to myself, to only return when I was healed and the promise to my old steed, Foulplay, to return him to his home in his last years. Now I had to fulfill my father's wishes, to make a place for myself in my own homeland.
I have heard my old friend Wulfreda was living in Snowborn. That sounded like a good place to start. I said goodbye to my family once again, though they knew I would not be far from them. In the stables I spoke with Fouplay. My truest friend. Most trusted steed a rider would want. What man would follow me through half a world and backwards without complaint? Without falter? But he is old now and earned peace in his last years. I accepted no money from the horse breeder that took him. One cannot sell a friend. Instead the man has promised to take good care of my companion for me.
With the last of the riches I brought with me from the Breelands and the stipend of service in Limlight Gorge, I bought another steed. Of the same breed as Fouplay, a big, furry and white stallion. While my old horse was docile and inteligent, this new one was wild and wicked. Still young. Tamed but not fully trained. I called him Witnere, Tormentor.
And thus my new adventure begins. My chest feels light, my heart strong and my soul eager. What do I expect? Nothing, I daresay. For the open road promises nothing more than my courage to make myself.
