It is an early spring morning and the sun is still lingering behind the White mountains, currently warming up the realm of Gondor. But soon it will cast its rays of light on Rohan and our village as well. I have taken to rising early from bed, so I can train my mind and body in solitude, away from the judging eyes of my fellow villagers. Nobody has said anything to me, but I know the wagging tongues of certain villagers blame me for all the troubles Bancross is experiencing.
I have brought an old rusty sword out with me, to train with, since my old faithful sword was never recovered after I was badly injured in the ambush. Trying not to speculate what happened with it, I initiated my training routine, which includes movements that look like dancing, striking out at invisible opponents. As always I’m starting slow and then try to pick up my speed, doing the routine faster and faster. I do not get far into it, before I’m out of breath and my injuries scream to me, that I should stop. The sick bed has robbed me of my strength and stamina and the path to recovering is taking longer than usual. Which is why I’m up early to train and recover what was lost.
With a sigh, I drop the sword and pick up the canteen filled with water instead. It's time for my morning walk around Bancross instead. I head towards the gate of my own farm and beyond it, to the rustic village road that has rested there for as long as any can remember. As always I head towards the south, down a slope and towards a small lake where the village children often play. But beside playing near the water I also suspect many of the children are visiting the horses at the village stables, run by Brynleigh. As I walk past her place I’m wondering what she is doing these days. She seems to live in solitude and I have observed there is a hidden sadness behind her eyes which I have decided not to pry upon. I should visit her soon, since I need a new mount… a new mount… the thought of my beloved mount Fastred death hits me suddenly and I suppress the tears and pain surfacing. Enough mourning now Duncadda, I tell myself.
The road leading south from Duncadda's farm.
I increase my pace so I can leave the stables and sad memories behind, as the road turns towards the east. In the distance I can hear a hammer ringing on an arm bolt. The village blacksmiths are up early as well and I’m curious if it's Ethel at work or Heartha, but not curious enough to visit and find out. I will leave them to their work. As I continue to walk east I pass my dear friends Waelden and Yllfa’s house, but their farm is quiet and there is no smoke from their chimney. I owe them my life, a debt I can never repay but I will die protecting them if needed, if that is the price to settle my debt to them. As I walk past their farm, the thought of their friendship warms my heart and removes some of the pain that surfaced earlier.
While the sun slowly rises, its rays are greeted by the spring flowers that open themselves up and reveal their beautiful colors and the air is filled with their sweet smell. Savoring the smell of the flowers and the gentle hums from the bee’s attracted to it, I pick up an intruding smell from the distance. The latrine pit of the garrison. I have come to an intersection where the road split into two directions. If I continue east I will arrive at the garrison and the east gate, where the unpleasant smell comes from. Looking down the slopes toward the garrison, I see it is awakening with riders coming out of their tents and the shift of guards. I see it has increased in numbers and somebody has invested in new hauberks and weapons, to those who are stationed there. The eored have become a large force to be reckoned with and not befitting a small village like Bancross. I know all too well what that means. Dark troubles are heading towards us all. Observing the garrison, I spot someone familiar among all these warriors. There is a huge man working with the latrine pit, while being shouted at by what must be Denholm, the garrison commander. I shake my head in amusement, since I recognize Eadrinn working with the latrine pits. Our garrison commander will have his hands full with Eadrinn in the months to come. I almost feel sorry for Denholm… almost.
But since the garrison is not the destination of my walk, I chose a path that goes north instead that takes me up a long slope and towards the hill the mead hall is situated on. While I walk the steep road that goes upward, I hear pleasant music coming from the Roaring dragon tavern that lies on my right side of the road. Somebody is entertaining Hildfrith for a free meal or mead I assume, and I hope the woman doesn't treat them with that horrible Old Saddle mead in return. The place is pleasant enough, but there could be some improvement on both food served there and mead, in my opinion.
The road climbing up and northward near the tavern.
As I leave the tavern and the music behind me, I climb the last few hundred meters of the road and are greeted by a stunning view of the mark. All around the village of Bancross there are the green flat fields as far as the eye can see, with an occasional farmstead here and there. Standing there and letting the wind cool my sore body, I open and drink deeply the cold fresh water from the canteen that I had brought for my walk. Not far from where I stand, there is another silent pond of water that can be defined as a small lake. I plan to refill my canteen there, which is very close to the farm belonging to Gamferth. Gamferth is a friend of my friends and I consider him as a friend as well, even if we have not met too often. Like Bryn, he seems to be a solitary person, enjoying his own company, but never says no to a mead or two in pleasant company.
Refilling my canteen, I set the course westward on the road that leads to the mead hall. I still have work that needs to be done there, but I need to measure up how many planks and nails are needed, before I can start. I had hoped to find some joy in my carpentry skills again, but the task of carpentry seems too dull for me at the moment and I would rather be out hunting or tending my farm instead. Still its work that needed to be done and desired by the villagers and my friends. There has been lots of talk about a feast and preparing for it, but it seems that the date for the feast remains hidden for the moment. As I get closer to the mead hall, my desires tell me that I can do the measuring tomorrow instead and I change my heading and return to the road that lies towards western parts of the village instead, which in return will take me back to my own farm.
The sun is rising higher and I can hear the village is coming more and more into life, with children laughing and their parents shouting at them. Smoke is rising from the chimneys and the smell of fresh baked bread is filling the air. I'm suddenly not alone walking on the roads, meeting farmers heading out to plow their fields, greeting me as I greet them in return. Before I know it, I'm passing the Thanes house, which is surrounded by numerous guards that stare at me, watching me so I do not get too close. The garrison commander Denholm issued a statement at the market some time ago, that the property is off limits for all and that those who trespass will be punished severely if they do so.
Troubles are stirring indeed and they are heading in our direction, but it occurs to me that most of the villagers have not noticed it, being so occupied with their thoughts on the upcoming feast. My thoughts darken about what might come, it darken so much that I walked past both the orchard and the market and suddenly found myself in front of my own farm again. I look back and up towards the marketplace where I should have visited Gwennwyn, but I turn away from that idea as well and walk towards my house instead. Laying on the ground outside my house is the rusted sword, just where I left it.
The sword is a symbol of me I realize, laying idle and without an edge anymore, while the darkness comes closer unhindered.
