FORLAW / JAIL / NIGHT
''They'll come.'' spoke the fiery-haired man, named Hondscioh, with a solemn air about him.
''They will.'' answered the leader of the war-band, man known in times son of Régn.
Hondscioh stared toward the gates, waiting for a sign and he turned, squeezing Régnwald's shoulder before he walked to his corner.
Régnwald scanned the ground, a hand holding a grasp of the cold iron bars that separated them from their people, the old, the women and children that traveled with him, fighting the biting colds of High Knolls boldly. The darkness was creeping in, but his heart remained unsettled.
The Eorling warriors had sprawled across the dark jail, Niehstu, Gydgar, Hondscioh - eyes open - listening to the night while fighting drowsiness...
Régnwald appeared fully asleep. He waited for a sign from Faerhild, a maiden guard of Forlaw who would hopefully return with Cynebur to set them free in the dead of night.
