The Mark's not my home no more, but I lived here most my life, and I reckon it'll be long years afore it don't make my heart beat all the swifter at the sight of it. Now we're finally here, that keeps going through my thoughts, and it's all manner of confusing and full of guilt. What I found here ain't in the Mark. It's something in my own heart, a lump of selfishness like a stone that weighs me down, one I didn't know were there, and I don't know what to do about it.
See, for months now I been thinking about how it were going to be, that first day getting to show the folk I care about what the Mark were like. All this time I keep talking on how beautiful it is, how it stirs the soul. I wanted so bad for so long to have that moment, seeing in their eyes how they felt first time they saw it. Maybe it'd be just another plain to them. It's not like Bree don't got wide open spaces and grass. But I hoped it'd be something more. That they'd say something like, oh, so that's why you go on about it, Leoffrith. Maybe how they felt about the Mark might reflect a bit on how they felt about me. Like they'd think better of me to have this in my blood. Or at least, they'd think well on me for how, all my going on and on about it, weren't just me being daft, that there were something to it.
So all the times I feel sad that Beoda didn't get to come with us, most of it is missing her, and being sad that she missed out on something she really wanted to do and see, but a little bit, and I feel guilty about it, is missing that moment. Getting to see her seeing it, maybe falling in love with it a little bit. The selfish part of it, because it's about me, about me being right, about the moment I get to have seeing her have hers and knowing I'm the one what gave it to her.
But at least I'd get to see Miss Adri seeing it the first time, I kept telling myself, not even in words. I guess I didn't realize how much I'd been clinging to that. So we got to the Mark yesterday and she got to see the Wold, but I knew her eyes were turned more towards the task before her that brung her here as much as anything, maybe more: the chance to see Wendiwyn, or at least find out what's come of her. I am patient; after that were settled, there'd be a moment, maybe in the Norcrofts, or maybe not until Westfold, but a moment that that the Mark were where her eyes were, and it'd catch up in her, and I'd get to see her smitten by the open spaces of Rohan at last.
So it turns out that Easterlings come over the Undeeps and struck Langhold. From what I heard, and I didn't get the whole story and, as usual, didn't understand most what I done heard, they struck, killed folk, took prisoners, but suffered enough losses that they got drove back off -- or maybe they always meant to just strike and leave. Either way, the town were mostly burned and is now empty, and the women and children and such fled to Harwick, but the Easterlings left with prisoners, probably back across the Undeeps. They could be in a camp just the other side of the river, or they could be a hundred leagues away now, by some distant sea, or in some fortress city, or anywhere. Wendiwyn were in the fight; Adri found a bracelet, a twin to her own, they'd worn as a pledge or some such, what got cut off her in the struggle. And being as she were a shield-maiden, it's only proper she were in the fight. But there weren't a body, so she were probably took as prisoner, along with many others.
Adri must hurt something bad, but she don't show it. A few times I thunk as I saw she were near to letting a bit out, but never long, and never sure. I know I would been blubbering and not able to walk from the pain if I'd found something of the like, but she must be made of stronger soul than me. I didn't know -- I don't know -- what to do for her, what to say. I tried to stay close, because it didn't seem she wanted me to leave her time alone, but even close I feel like the very best I can be is the tree what she sits under, not even the one in whose shade she cries under, just the one under which she sits, just sits. Broods silently, but don't even cry proper. Just sits and don't even need the tree to do it under.
We're going to leave Harwick in a little, when all's made ready, to continue west on our way to Marton. I should be worrying on what'll happen when I see the Thane, as I been on and off for months, or what my family will say to see me, but this ill news hangs over everything. I think about what she must be going through. Then I think about how she's not going to even see the Mark while we ride through it, not really see it. Then I feel guilty that, of all things, that's what my mind goes to. The woman she's in love with is probably a prisoner in the East, maybe dead, and here I am thinking of how I get deprived of seeing her moon over some empty plains and grass. How can I be the kind of person what's got that stone of selfishness in his heart? Is that what I always been?
I know she's thinking, what if we'd only come a few weeks earlier? Now I think back to every little thing we waited on, things like seeing the stables settled while Miss Brynleigh were gone, and getting a ring to propose with, and such, and it all seems like it weren't important enough. If we'd just left soon as we could, we'd been here in time for her to see Wendiwyn.
But probably the result would be the same or worse. It's not like Wendiwyn, being a true shield-maiden of Rohan, would have shirked her duty, would not have been there in the fight, and most likely took just the same. Maybe me and Adri would been too. But how can it not feel like those little delays leading to us arriving, of all times, just now, just after what happened, weren't some more of that selfish stone I can feel weighing my heart down, making it struggle to beat?
Even the open fields of the Norcrofts might not catch my eye today when we cross into them. It's not just that Adri won't get to see them with bright eyes. Even I won't. How I wish this were all done and we was back in Bree again. I want to see Beoda and know she's safe, more than anything. That's just more selfishness, though, ain't it?
