We been keeping away from the cities of the Mark considering on what the Thane told me, that my welcome ain't what it were, now I'm no longer a Man of the Mark. Probably it would be fine, on account the lands are not at war, and we're peaceable visitors. The one éored we come upon didn't even stop us. Still, we thunk it were best not to test it. But when we come to Harwick, not stopping didn't seem possible, because we had to inquire after any news since we left. News of Wendiwyn, what's been in Adri's thoughts ever since we were in Harwick last, and afore that, too. We talked on having Adri go in on her own, but that seemed like to draw more attention than it'd avoid, so we simply made a straight line for the house what Lady Cíllan were keeping in, and hoped no one would think anything of us being there.
But Lady Cíllan didn't have nothing new to tell us as changed anything, it seems. There are guards posted at the watches at the Undeeps again, and they can see great pavilions of a camp of Easterlings out on the Undeeps and on the other side of the Great River, but while the forces there wouldn't be a match against the éoreds as could ride from Harwick at short notice, they's more than enough that no scouts could get close enough to find out any more. Don't seem likely they'd have prisoners took so long ago still there at the camp right over the river, but I didn't say so out loud. Poor Adri is trying to hold herself whole, but even without me saying anything as makes things worse, she's maybe more glum than ever. Anyhow, I'm sure anything I can think of, she thunk of and went beyond before the thought took form in my lumbering wits, so she don't need me saying nothing.
We had enough light left to continue on and I'm afeared I got as glum as she were as we crossed the bridge over the Limlight, and it all come down on me. I keep telling myself that putting the Mark behind me ain't no hardship, on account I had already chose to live in the Northlands, and any visits I were to make one day can probably still happen the same as they would. And that it's all good; I'm free to go to the life I chose, to fulfill my promises, with no worry of any duty that lingers behind. I wondered when I might feel the hurt of being cast out of the only home I knew most of my life, the one where my family still lives, and it turns out, this is it, crossing that bridge. I am sure of my course, but I also know I'm a lackwit and get many things wrong, so I don't trust my own sureness. Am I going to regret this? Should I have fought it? Would it have made any difference if I'd had? I keep throwing my sureness at these thoughts, my memories of my new home, my hopes for what's ahead, my plans, and it's like throwing water on a burning barn. Maybe there'll be a bucketful comes later what'll make the fire die down, but now, it don't feel like it changes nothing. Like I don't even know if there'll ever be enough water. All this in my head while I rode on slow across Parth Celebrant, not even thinking of how Eorl rode and fought and bled here. Eorl's not my people anymore. Well, he is, but, he's not, too.
When Miss Brynleigh lost her husband, there were things could help her a little, like friends around her, but really there's nothing but time, the slow count of days, to bring her to where she can think about what's ahead more'n what's behind. Adri's counting those same days too, and she's got a lot of them ahead of her. I reckon now it's my turn, smaller'n theirs, but still, nothing but to count the days. Maybe by time we're home, me and my thoughts will both be there together. Maybe it's not so bad the journey's long.
