Many years have passed since he was given this charge. He had been young, and bold. the Third Marshal had trusted him with these miles of grass, with the many villages scattered across them, and with the men that rode with him. The men were like horses themselves. Régnwald was new and untested. They did not trust him, and loyalty was only in name, and not in blood. In his youth, Régnwald likened their treatment to that of an unbroken stallion. He had dealt with stallions. The boldest of all had dealt him many aches and demanded many toils.
The stallion was Gramlic. A proud and virulently stubborn one. The young horse refused him. Régnwald was equally proud and sftubborn, young was he was too. He would not ride Gramlic, he had told his father, who had given him to Régnwald. He would not ride until the horse came when uncalled. Every day Régnwald would be at the horse's side. He would not allow anyone else to care for him. He would brush his coat, clean his hoofs, and braid his mane. He took the time to learn the personality of this horse. He found that Gramlic loved plums, even more so than apples. Scratching the spot between his left haunch and his neck caused the horse's face to lift and pucker his velvet lips. Régnwald taught Gramlic to kick with the snap of his fingers. He taught him to roll, to jump, and to rear. For three months, this was the way they bonded.
Then came the test. Beyond the gates of Aldburg, Régnwald walked to a lone hill with Gramlic in tow. He removed the reins and with a whack, slapped the horse's rear. Gramlic bolted and ran. He ran far, further and further into the hills till he became but a dot. Régnwald remained on the hill. He never told how long he waited, but Saewaru his sister, watched from the high tower. For what seems like hours, she had said, her brother patiently sat.
Régnwald's faith was rewarded. Gramlic approached him, and nuzzled his golden head. The bond had been made, and the test of friendship was passed.
The Éored was much like Gramlic in this manner. They were mostly grown men, and he had been but a boy in their eyes. He accepted this challenge. He observed their strengths and weaknesses. Each man's name was learned and was given Régnwald's time. No horseman was neglected. He demanded more of them than they demanded of themselves. Over time he proved his worth as a leader, for it was they who had to prove themselves as followers. The day came when a host of orcs attacked them. Their bonds were tested. Many hours of battle ensued, and under the leadership of the Æthelwigend, they rose victorious, no man or horse lost. They celebrated his name in the ceremonial burning of the pile. From that day forth, they took his word as their bond, for that was the love for their leader.
