Two nights ago it was. Two nights ago when we heard Ealfin snorting and kicking at the stable wall.
“Do you think Wynn is dancing for him again,” I had said. Usually such a comment would have brought a swift reply or at least a grin from Waelden and a comment about a foal, but we were in little mood for laughter. We were both still too raw from what had occurred. Our thoughts were taken up with a mixture of anger and pain. So that night we paid little heed to the warning cries of his stallion. More fool us. That was twice we were taken unaware.
Worry, for Ethel, for him, had clouded my judgement that night. I wanted to tend to them both, to check the bite on Ethel’s arm, to see how the potion I administered to Waelden was working, to check his wound had stopped bleeding and replace the dried lichen bandage with a fresh one. I desperately wanted to stop the pain of those I loved. How could I have known that the other one closest to me was being stolen away from under my nose.
And in the morning, when we had gone to attend the horses, to check their feed and water them, only an angry Ealfin, and an agitated Roan remained.
Wynn was gone. My mare, my final gift from my beloved grandpapa had been taken? My heart was in my throat.
“She would not have run away” I told Waelden, who though weak on his feet had come instantly to my side, his own expression grim upon the discovery. “Wynn is not flighty or taken to bolting.”
Ethel watched on as she tended awkwardly to Roan, her eyes still a little haunted from the recent experience, her bound arm obviously hurting. She liked Wynn too. The discovery was yet another blow to her.
“She likes apples though,” Ethel ventured. “She would do almost anything for an apple. I know. I’ve tried.”
Aye, Wynn had a soft spot for apples. The crunchier the better. But she had an even softer spot for her rider of years. For me!
Walden looked at me directly, a slow and appraising look it was. I knew what he was thinking. Could I bear to hear him speak his thoughts aloud?
“The Dunlending has taken her….or sent one of his men to do so as an afterthought? You killed his dog; he has taken your mare. It’s a warning to us he is watching.”
“She will come home,” I said, only half believing myself as I wandered aimlessly around the stable. “If she was taken then the moment she has a chance, she will be off. She may not be Ealfin, but she will kick and bite to gain her freedom.”
“Aye, she will come home,” Waelden replied, moving to halt my pacing, reaching down to run a hand through my hair in his comforting manner.
I knew he didn’t believe it any more than I did. He would think of what to do, he always did. But he was wounded himself and the poison had taken a toll. We could not leave Ethel alone, or take her on some possibly drawn out hunt, not even to find my friend.
So I waited, calm as I could manage. I waited and spoke with my new and dear family about other matters. We had plans to defend ourselves should there be a return of the intruder, aye, and a few surprises to lay in store.
But Wynn did not return.
So this evening I found myself more withdrawn than my usual manner. After we had eaten (venison hunted and cooked by Ethel) the girl retired to her room to make plans of her own. I sat with Waelden before our hearth-fire, sipping at an ale, with him doing less sipping but more savouring. I had to speak. Well, two trains of thought were weighing on my mind, but it is of Wynn I would give an account.
“I will leave matters for two more days, but then I must go in search of her.”
“And I will come with you.”
He stated it in such a matter-of-fact manner that I was slightly taken aback. Those blue eyes searched my face. He meant it. If I went, he would come too. There would be no changing his mind.
Taking another drink, he added “That’s not an order, dear. It’s a fact. I will not let you head into trouble alone. Those men are dangerous, if it is them who hold her. Brave though you are, you would stand little chance.”
“But you are still healing from that wound,” I replied, setting down my own glass on the wooden floor. Of course I wanted him with me, but it was such a short time since I had seen him wracked with pain, and weak from the poison on the blade plunged into his shoulder. “I shall be careful, Greybeard. I shall track her down, but hope to chance to free her. And there is Ethel….what of her if you accompany me?”
Seated but a short distance from me, he reached out with his free hand, seeking mine. “I will not have Ethel riding out after brigands, but I will take her into Edoras. She can stay with some of my old friends in the garrison. She will be safe and well cared for there.”
Readily letting him enclose my hand in his, I had to speak further. “Much as I love Wynn, I will not risk you to find her.”
He chuckled, that warm, kind laugh that delighted my heart. “Don’t you think we are better working together? Where either one of us might fail, the both of us will succeed. We are a team, aye? And besides, I don’t think my Ealfin will be happy until she is back.”
With that he drained the last of his ale, drop by drop, and set down his glass on the floor. Then he gestured, as he did some nights, that I should sit by his feet if I wished. He would offer me what comfort he could, those large gentle hands would stroke my hair and rub away tension from my neck. I wanted that. I needed his comfort.
Sitting before the fire, leaning my back against his chair, I knew he was right. But I could not help a final plea.
“Wynn will be home again, my love?”
“Aye,” he said in reply. “I think she will, and soon.”
