Within the large Mead-hall, all the members of the Witan have gathered: Mægisterwigend Gyric, serving as a Captain of Wildermore's éored, Seaxwyrd son of Radwine, a son to a renown warrior, standing at Thrymm's place, Ethelmund, the Quartermaster of Forlaw, Thane of Scylfig, Cynegar, a friend and cousin to the Reeven, Frambald, Thane of Dunfast, Aldwin, uncle of the Former Thane of Byre Tor and last Leofholm, master healer of Forlaw. They are all seated on either side of the Reeve, except from Saexwyrd who still stood as a personal guardian next to the Lord's horned seat.
The dimly lit hall gaped as a cavern before the small group as they were ushered through the great oaken doors. A wave of smells and sounds would assail the senses, unused to the luxuries and bustle they had gone so long without. Guards looked on, as still as the great carved horses that adorned the village's finer buildings.
Maeweyn rose from her seat upon Régnwald and the other Stangard refugees entering the tavern. She would silently finish her drinks and join them, taking her place amongst the group to present themselves to the Reeve.
Faerhild was staring vacantly in front of herself from behind her helmet. As her brother appeared, she denied him of her gaze, continuing to stare forth as she replied, "Yet I did." She glances at Hornbold then, gesturing him with her gloved hand, "...This is a man sent by the Reeve Harding. I have faith he can introduce himself."
Erlene raised her gaze as heads begin to turn to glance towards the entrance of the hall.
Saexwyrd nodded with indifference, to rub his status over the guard. Then he looked down at his sister. ''The Reeve will demand you to speak of what you saw and heard.''
Gydgar took in a long breath through his nose before his eyes started to wander for where they were coming from. He suddenly felt very warm due to the great burning fires, starting to regret his choice of clothing for the day..
Putting one foot in front of the other, the half step felt as a day’s hard journey upon the young Horselord. Remaining as defiant as one could in a sea of enemies, Régnwald jutted his chin forward, the beard that clung to it once kept neat now unkempt. He would then stride forth with his comrades, and others who were already inside. As he neared the dias, the man would spare a glance at Maeweyn briefly and nod in silent gesture to follow.
One might notice Maeweyn glare at Régnwald as he passed, she silently took her place behind the group.
Erlene, among others, kept her eyes on Régnwald and the others; low murmurs were starting to be heard between the gathered groups.
Zaiweyn looked over at all the people arriving, cocking her head curiously and pausing the eating.
Niehstu followed, her eyes fixed on her Captain's back. As the reached their designated place he raised her head to keep it high.
Egilfrid downed the remainder of his horn quickly and reached for his crutch, pressing down firmly onto the floor before heaving himself up to rise and watch.
Faerhild nodded slowly at her brother, although she kept to deny him of her gaze, rather staring at the air than her blood-kin.
Pale, tired eyes set upon the Reeve who sat in silence. The sword that rested across his knees as a symbol of his office drew the man's eye, and he chose to focus on that rather than the face of the man who held him and his kinsmen. "Have strength..." he hissed beneath his breath, casting the briefest of sideways glances toward Niehstu. "And let his words crash upon stone."
Gydgar looked towards the man in the chair, his arms meeting together infront of him as his chin raised up ever so slightly.
Saexwyrd gave a scowl at the approaching war-band. A foul omninous smile hanging at the corner of his lips as his eyes encountered Régnwald. He got back to his place, standing guard over the Reeve as the caretaker of the hall announced Régnwald's arrival.
Hornbold looked at Faerhild's brother with a hint of unease. This hall was strange to him, so were its people.
Niehstu nodded but a sudden worry haunted her face. She managed a faint smile.
Maeweyn folded her arms, adjusting her stance and position to be a little further away from Régnwald than before.
Regnwald's eyes, hardened found the young man of Witan, known as Saexwyrd, but he spoke naught. His byrnie gleamed. Kneeling low, the helm between his arm clattered lightly as it was grounded. "Lord Reeve," he regarded him in appreciation for his gratitude.
Soon the crowd's murmur began to die down.
The Reeve raised his eyes to face the approaching people. A wind crept slow through the high window panes. The pale banners rippled, heralding the throned reeve. Gárwig, his brow grim, chiseled by wisdom and cunning, tapped his fingers but once on the chair's armrest. His mustache hung in heavy braids about his deep-set lips. His sword sat on his lap, dear as a child, clean as spring, ready to cut judgment through the hearts of his lessers. The Reeve leaned back in his antlered chair, watching his prisoners of brethren lands. "Régnwald, son of Régn, and his war-band--" he glanced to his side, but his counselor only shook his head. ''You have awaited my judgment. I hope you are well prepared!''
Régnwald swallowed drily. Clutching at his side, fingers grasped nothing but empty space where Nægling's familiar, comforting hilt once rested. "Aye, my Lord Reeve, I am prepared to defend my name, and that of the war-band." The emphasis on the title was as hard as the eyes that now bore into the Reeve. Thus the young earl's word-hoard was unlocked:
''I have wronged no one in Stangard, and if the matter of outlawry is seen to be troth, it is mine to bear, the war-band here are graced by the protection of my lord father and great marshall Éomer!''
Maeweyn shook her head, "Wronged no-one in Stangard..." She muttered under her breath, barely heard.
Gydgar looked towards the Reeve, his gaze not wavering as he remained standing tall and brave, though perhaps that was not the best thing in this instance..
The Reeve waved at his words in dismissal and turned to his left searching Faerhild with his eyes. He beconed at her to come closer.
Régnwald stood tall, eyes narrowing as his words were dismissed so lightly, and his gaze followed that of the Reeve's, finding the maiden under leather helmet, hazel green eyes gleamed in curiousity; though not in wonder mayhap.
Faerhild moved her gaze slowly on Régnwald and his band, staring at them calmly in grim silence. Although as she was called upon she stepped forth, removing her helmet and kneeling once before her Reeve and the counsil of wise men.
Hornbold beheld this spectacle from behind his vizored helmet.
Régnwald gazed at his comrade over his shoulder for the barest of moments, saying naught but a brief eye-contact.
There Maeweyn would glare back at Régnwald, lips pursed.
The Reeve spoke, ''Faerhild daughter of Radwine, you've been sent to Harwick to bring us more knowledge of this man and the grim events he was involved in. Speak now for the councel to hear. What did you learn!''
Faerhild cleared her throat, before she would speak with a loud voice that carried no emotions, "- In the hearing held under the eyes of Reeve Harding men and women were questioned about the character of Régnwald and those closest to him. Régnwald and his were described as brave warriors. Although complaints were made that they lacked administrative skills and neglected some formal duties. He was also accused of requesting too many resources and lacking the skills to properly harness the farmlands he already had." She cleared her throat then, "During the hearing, men were brought in. They claimed to be survivors of Stangard and were heard as such. The men testified that the Stangard fell because the stables were not guarded and the Easterlings claimed them, making it difficult for anyone to escape. After this the warriors were seen to retreat to the other gate in the fear of Orcs attacking from the North. The warriors were said to have set the North Gate in flames. Only those who were with them were able to escape, others remained trapped between the Easterlings and the fire. Women and children were ruthlessly slaughtered --''
Régnwald listened the words of the errand rider of Harding in silent solemnity, eyes wandering between her and the old Reeve. Apparently he waited for his turn.
Hornbold seemed abhorred by Faerhild's telling.
The Reeve stirred on his horned seat, his hands stroking the armrest. Still he does not seem much surprised as if he was aware of these news already. He nodded to the woman. "You've done well Faerhild, would that be all?"
''It was claimed the remaining few warriors were seen to shoot their own to ease their deaths." She glances briefly at Régnwald before setting her gaze on Gárwig, "- Régnwald himself was not seen during the siege or the fall of Stangard." She bows her head,"This is what I have been told my Reeve. I lack the wisdom to judge whether it is the whole truth of the matter, yet I I stand here to repeat what I have heard. Reeve Harding has made a demand for Rengwald to be punished for the crimes he is accused of. Yet as not all sides have been heard, the Reeve demands that Regnwald and his people are heard." She stepped forth then, offering Gárwig a sealed scroll with a bow of her head.
Zaiweyn listened from her spot outside of the group, her eyes drifting between the Reeve, the person that speak,s the warband leader - and also Saexwyrd, lips curling somewhat in a frown each time he is spotted.
Erlene looked around herself as low whispers begin to rise up again among the people after claim made as Egilfrid pressed his lips into a thin line as he listens in, his eyes darting over the warband uncertainly.
Régnwald frowned at that grimly, his golden brows crossing like arrows. Swallowing the words uttered with a bitter grimace, the pariah shifted a little, clearing his throat. The sound echoed dimly, followed by a hissing pop as a fissure of a log was laid bare in the flames.
The Reeve picked up the scroll, he nodded to the girl and rewarded her with a faint fatherly smile. Then he handed the scroll over to his Quartermaster who sat next to him. "Would you confirm those are the words of Reeve Harding Ethelmund?''
Maeweyn coughed, clearing her throat as she seemed to sober up. She began to find it harder to focus calmly on the gathering before the Reeve.
Gydgar breathed in through his nose to once again relish the smell of the food in the hall. His eyes now moved from the Reever towards the Quartermaster, spreading his weight from one leg to the other as he waits.
Faerhild bowed once more, stepping backward where she had been positioned without turning her back to her Lord.
Hornbold watched Faerhild return to his side, trying to find any sign of emotion after her neutral message.
Faerhild stared vacantly in front of herself, carrying her helm under her arm. No emotions leak through the calm mask she wears. Although the people who knew her, would know that the calmer she appeared the more troubled she was.
Niehstu gulped and gave Régnwald a sad look, as he was slowly reduced in the eyes that looked at them, in her eyes as well. She tightened her fists and stood still.
Ethelmund stood back with a thoughtful expression on his face as he watched the warband, appearing more interested in considering what he saw before him than the words levelled against him. He bows, a quick smile on his lips, and retrieved the scroll to regard it closely, his eyes leaping over a few lines at a time before he appeared satisfied. "Indeed," He confirmed and the scroll again, passing it back with yet another humble bow. "She has brought the Harding's words to us accurately. It leaves much to consider." the scroll again, passing it back with yet another humble bow. "She has brought the Harding's words to us accurately. It leaves much to consider."
People seemed to start to form their own thoughts despite the meeting only having begun. A silver haired man in his later years having started to take up a harsher tone as he whispers to his wife, the thick arms folded over the broad chest and a glare cast towards the warband that might suggest that despite all he has already made up his mind on the matter.
The Reeve nodded quickly. His shoulders seemed hunched, heavy with the burden of sorrow and worry. He heaved a deep breath and raises his tired voice to be heard by everyone. "We have heard the accusations, if there is nothing else to be spoken of the accusations we will hear the accused. "He looks around and as only whispers are heard, he turned to war-band. "Speak then your words."
