I'm writing this at our camp north of the Mark, after a day where I'm afraid I was worse company for Leoffrith than usual. Most of our trip I've tried to keep up some amount of conversation from time to time, but I spent the time since Harwick just barely not crying while we rode. I feel like I've not really been such a good travelling companion or friend to him on this journey. I really wish Beoda and Cynrien could have come with us, as had been the first plan.
Of course, as long as I'm bothering to journal any at all, I should explain why today has been so bad. We stopped in Harwick again for me to talk with Lady Cíllan some more, and with that guard that mostly is watching over her and her children, Dala. I reckon it's a really good thing I promised Owena and Audea, in particular, that I'd come back. I'd be haring off to scout Easterlings and trying to find Wendy, else – and I know that wouldn't turn out so good for me. There's no way anyone's going to reclaim Langhold soon. It just needs too much re-building, and Harwick's Thane doesn't seem inclined to help. Being an outsider, I don't dare ask much of why not, but I get the impression I might not like the man very much if I met him.
Anyways, there's also no scouting across the river going on. Just a border-watch of sorts. So if I did go across, I'd be on my own, like I figured before. Lady Cíllan doesn't figure there to be much hope, and not enough to want to keep either bracelet for Wendy on my behalf. Given it turns out her husband is dead from that attack, I suppose I can't much blame her. At least they know I did come looking, even if I was too late – so if Wendiwyn does turn up, they'll be able to tell I was here. But leaving without her now just feels so wrong. I'm about to start crying onto this page if I keep this up – and probably wake Leoffrith.
Speaking of, he seemed pretty affected by leaving the Mark himself. Not sure if it's being so officially a north-man now, or something else. Maybe something to try asking him about tomorrow as we ride, so it isn't so much silence and moping at each other. Of course, he might not want to talk about it. But if I don't ask, I can't know that for sure.
I'm going to be so tempted to just ride back here once we get to Bree. Well, not right away – I did promise to see folks and share some stories. But knowing that Wendy wasn't found as a corpse is going to be eating at me. I wanted what's called closure – I think I first heard that word from Sareva – and instead I got a fresh wound in my heart. My own fault, of course, for waiting so long – but that's what makes it hurt so much.
And I need to stop writing and sniffling and try to sleep. Can't get back if I start falling out of my saddle on the way.
