Chapter 3 - The Long Road Out Of Eden

Muireann fires an arrow at Theodflaed, but the shaft misses, thudding into a tree next to the woman's head. She hisses in frustration, but her eyes stay cold, her movements unhurried and relaxed. She couldn't afford to be tense. Not in a fight like this. The calmer she was, the deadlier her aim. That was what her father had taught her. That was what she held on to.

Egon rushes the shieldmaiden, grabbing her arm and stopping the her from harming the woman. "I don't want to hurt you," he says to her. "But I will if I have to."

Calix stares incredulously at Hrothgar as the brute of a man continues his onslaught, despite the horrible accusations flung the family's way. The slavers had ensured he'd been swiftly broken of his entitlement to be listened to, but the stalwart dismissal is something he's still not quite used to. The fury of heaven darkens his voice as he snarls with the authority of Gabriel at the Annunciation, "I said stop. " If ever he had believed Hrothgar held a single shred of godliness, he is cured of it now, when the man doesn't so much as falter. Lunging forward instead, he readies his sword to shield Lindwig, still keeping the child – or was she truly an abomination, as the squirming man on the ground had said? – from further damage. "Are you as deaf as you are dumb? If what he says is true, we need him alive. Or is lying with kin something you're used to?"

Seizing the opportunity after Hrothgar knocks Lindwig to the ground, Tiberius clamps his jaws down around the man's leg, holding him fast. Lindwig kicks and struggles and eventually manages to shove the dog off of him. However, as he finally pushes himself to his feet, the hound strikes again, sinking its teeth deep into Lingwig's ankle and dragging him back to the ground. In that moment of vulnerability,  Hrothgar brings his axe crashing down once more, drawing blood from his foe's brow. Lindwig barely brings his own sword up in time to avoid a fatal blow. Across the path to Frithgar's house, Theodflaed struggles against Egon's grasp, but fails to break free. While the little girl by the front door cowers behind Calix.

Hrothgar presses his shoulder against Calix's defense, then hooks the haft of his axe around the smaller man's hip. With a snarl, he wrenches aside and throws Calix to the side. "I don't take orders from you or your dead God!" Hrothgar pivots back to Lindwig and raises his axe again, but stops short of the fall, "You're done here. Stay down or I split your skull." Hrothgar shoots a glance back to Calix as well, "You too."

Muireann's eyes are fixated on the struggle between Egon and the shieldmaiden. She draws back another arrow, vowing to end her life if she makes one wrong move. 

"Let her go," Egon shouts, wrenching the shieldmaiden's grasp free of the other woman. "Stop this, now."

Goewyn sees Egon wrestling with one of their enemies as she rushes through the woods, drawing her warseax as she does. In what was supposed to be one smooth motion, she attempts to run the point of the blade into her ribs, but the flailing shieldmaiden weasels away from the blade! 

Theodflaed wrenches herself free of Egon's grasp, only to be cut down by the warrior's flashing seax as she turns to run. "I yield! I yield!" Lindwig yells, desperately trying to avoid the hound snapping at his throat and the relentless blows of Hrothgar's onslaught. Finally free, Frithgar's woman dashes to grab the younger girl by the hand and the two run for the trees.

Hrothgar towers over Lindwig as the sounds of combat begin to fade. “We did not want this, but you attacked the people who gave us shelter. Throw away your weapon and I will hear what you have to say."

A squeal can be heard to the west where Calix is running after the fleeing women. He soon returns, dragging the girl along by the wrist, while the other woman trails behind the pair wailing. "Leave us alone! Don't hurt her!" She sobs in West Saxon. Lindwig pushes himself up onto his elbows and spits blood onto the grass, before pulling off his helmet to reveal a weathered face with wavy grey hair and a trimmed beard. "Fine ceorls one and all, slain by the likes of you, and for what? An inbred bastard and her whore mother. It would take a king to pay such a wergild. When the ealdorman hears of this, your lives will be forfeit."

Egon examines the blood staining his seax. He wipes it on the grass and replaces it in his belt. "If what you say is true," he says, struggling to keep the anger he felt from entering his voice, "Then the 'bastard' and her mother have done nothing to deserve execution, no matter how fine  the coerls swinging the axe are."

"If you are innocent you have no reason to be alarmed," Calix responds in the same tongue as he pulls the girl back toward the others. He keeps his grip on the child with one hand as he kneels down to strike the other across Frithgar's unconscious face, muttering a word in Latin that could be either prayer or curse. He barely waits for the man's eyes to crack before asking,  "Who are these men? Is what they say of your kin true?"

Frithgar jerks awake with a start and begins to scramble when he sees the bleeding bodies on the ground around him. "My kin? Wha- get your hands off my daughter!" The other woman runs in and tries to grab the girl from Calix. "Lindwig is a liar and thief who only wants our land!" She declares, spitting on the reclining warrior.

As the fighting dies down, and the men start talking, Muireann forgets the others, rushing instead to the dogs that had so valiantly fought to protect their master. There was nothing she could do for Maximus and Caesar, and she says a soft prayer in the Old Tongue over them, almost like a song, so they might pass peacefully into the next life.  She moves slowly from the two deceased dogs, to Nero and then Brutus, both still struggling for life, but seemingly out of danger at the moment. She continues her prayer, this time a soft breeze ruffling the fur of the animals, and their breathing eases. Satisfied, she sits beside them, stroking their fur, and finally turning her attention to the conflict at hand.   

Calix looks from Frithgar to the woman, his hold on the girl's wrist tightening. A lifetime attending banquets in his father's hall had schooled him to look for similarities before he insulted the wrong lord's son – and there were certainly some between these two; same nose, same jawline. It was far from damning, but it was far from absolving, too. "On your feet, both of you," he says to Lindwig and Frithgar both, backing a few steps away and pulling the child with him. "Make your case and I advise you make it well, the big one isn't known for his patience."

"Inflaed and I aren't from around these parts," Frithgar hurriedly explains, scrambling to his feet and taking a few steps towards the girl. "Folks fear what they don't know, so we built our home outside the village, but still they tell strange tales of us. It's nothing but fear and envy - please let our daughter go." "LIES!" Lindwig interjects, finally clambering out from under Hrothgar. "They came here only to hide their twisted union, but the ealdorman has learned of the  perversion  living in our midst!

"How did the ealdorman come by this knowledge?" Egon says, giving Lindwig a examining stare.

"He was forewarned at the moot," Lindwig snarls back with venom, spitting on the ground at his own feet, "by Frithgar's former liege lord." "Nonsense!" Frithgar vehemently denies. "There has been no moot in months."

"Shut up, all of you!" Muireann spits out, getting to her feet. Men. She looks at Frithgar, then Lindwig. "You enjoy inflicting pain on this man," she says, cocking her head to the side, her eyes piercing. Then she looks at Frithgar. "And you are hiding something." She twists back to Lindwig. "Maybe we should stop measuring dicks, and talk. Like people. Not animals." Her voice has an eerie, musical quality, and her eyes regard Lindwig with little emotion.

There's a moment of stunned silence in which Frithgar and Lindwig simply stare at the slight girl admonishing them both with such fervour.

Hrothgar nudges Lindwig with the butt of his axe haft. "Best you start talking more'n just what your ealdorman told you. Can't say I disagree with you, but these people showed us hospitality. Far as I can see, you're no better than outlaws in the woods looking to rob a family." Despite himself just a minute prior, Hrothgar carries a measure of disconnected composure. Too many accusations, not enough proof. If it weren't for Frithgar's welcome before, Hrothgar would've left them to settle their own from here.

Lindwig seethes and looks from Frithgar, to Egon, to Calix, to Muireann, until his eyes finally settle on Hrothgar once more. "This isn't over," he growls through gritted teeth, before turning to make his way back up the path to the road. "You have no authority in these lands. The ealdorman will settle this and the gothi will come to gather the dead for their final rites... unless you are the kind to shoot an unarmed man in the back."

“Or the type to ambush them in their sleep?” Calix snorts, watching Lindwig go. He doesn’t quite look at Frithgar’s family, but the vitriol had rubbed him the wrong way.   “We will see you soon. And should the ealdorman want to come, we will ask him ourselves if this moot was true.”

Unarmed, but unbroken, Lindwig slopes off into the night, heading back up the path towards the hilltop village. Frithgar and his family are left standing in the cold, surrounded by the dead, the dying and their guests. As the tension finally breaks, the man falls to his knees between his brutally murdered dogs, holding his tear-streaked face in his hands, even as the little girl sobs into her mother's skirt.

6Hrothgar looks at the surroundings and hopelessly shakes his head. It'll take the whole day just to handle everything properly provided everyone worked, but that didn't seem likely. So, he turned his focus to Frithgar next. "Best if you start talking. Is what they say true, and why does an ealdorman want you dead? The whole thing, now, and no lies. Help might be here for you, but I'll be the first to hang you inside out if I find out you lied or left anything out."

Frithgar looks up at Hrothgar, still openly grieving the loss of his four-legged friends. "I offered you a roof over your heads for the night, out of kindness, so that he might be spared the swine's fear and hatred,"  the farmer retorts indignantly, gesturing to Calix, "and you repay it with suspicion and threats? This land was of little value and I have made something of it by virtue of my own hard work. Now that there are benefits to reap, the ealdorman wants an excuse to reclaim it." Frithgar shakes his head and slowly pushes himself to his feet, standing in front of Hrothgar to look the giant of a man in the eye. "You defended my family tonight and for that I am grateful, but do not offer help with one hand and threaten violence with the other. Especially not in front of my wife and daughter. Help, or leave."

"Quiet, Hrothgar," Egon says, irritation spilling into his voice. "We have no quarrel with you, but you will have problems if you stay here. We will not be here next time to protect you."

Muireann drifts lightly around the quarreling men, to the woman and her daughter. She glances back at the others, then gently places a hand on the mother's shoulder, speaking softly. "Let's get you and your daughter inside. It's cold enough as it is. And late. You both need rest."

"What would you have me do?" Frithgar asks Egon in exasperation. "Pack up and move on with nothing but that on our backs? Everything that we have built is here." Frithgar's wife and shivering daughter wordlessly allow Muireann to guide them inside.

Once inside, Muireann closes the door with a soft click, setting her bow to the side, out of her hands. She turns to the woman, a frown causing her brow to crease. "I promise no harm will come to your daughter. But I need to know: is Frithgar your kin?"

"What would you have me do?" Egon says. "I am a stranger in these lands, with no authority to speak of. I cannot speak to your moot. I cannot prove that your story is true. My word -- a stranger's word -- against theirs."

RisenZed said: "What would you have me do?" Egon says. "I am a stranger in these lands, with no authority to speak of. I cannot speak to your moot. I cannot prove that your story is true. My word -- a stranger's word -- against theirs." "Ask your friend," Frithgar grunts in return. "He was the one to claim that he could help in the same breath as threatening my life. I ask nothing more of you than what you have already done." Comic Sans said: Once inside, Muireann closes the door with a soft click, setting her bow to the side, out of her hands. She turns to the woman, a frown causing her brow to crease. "I promise no harm will come to your daughter. But I need to know: is Frithgar your kin?" A worried frown spreads across the woman's brow. "What? Those cruel men only wanted to spread doubt in your hearts. I see that they succeeded. I love my husband." She places an arm around her daughter who clings to her mother's side.

Muireann closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I couldn't care less what those shits had to say. But there are some outside who may take issue with your choice if it proves to be true. And I would not see them harm you. I will keep your secret. But if you'd rather keep to yourself, I won't force you."

The woman peers cautiously around Muireann towards the door, before turning to her daughter and cupping the girl's cheek affectionately in one hand. "Frithwyn, go wrap up warm in bed while I finish up here. It's been a long night. Get some rest." She kisses her daughter on the forehead and only turns back to Muireann once the door has closed firmly behind Frithwyn, before offering the Irish girl the barest of nods. "Ceolwen," she adds, gesturing to herself, before waiting to hear Muireann's name in return.

"Muireann," she says in return, nodding back, leaning against the door to the outside, effectively locking it against anyone trying to enter.

"What will you tell them?" Ceolwen asks Muireann quietly.

Muireann glances over her shoulder, where she can hear the muffled discussion outside, then looks back to Ceolwen. "That the men who attacked you were liars. Petty, small men looking to make themselves feel bigger by hurting someone else."  She hesitates. "But if your husband says anything while they're talking out there...."

"You see, now, that even your charity could not spare me a swine's fear and hatred," Calix responds to Frithgar, gesturing vaguely toward Hrothgar. "You have not asked for help but you will need it, if they're to return. And men like that always will. We would help you, if it's truly a lie what they've said of you. But I would ask that you swear so to your gods first."

"It is as your companion has said," Frithgar tells Calix regretfully, gesturing to Egon, "you cannot remain here forever. You are strangers to these lands. How would your help do anything but delay the ealdorman's efforts?" "He will avoid it," Ceolwen whispers back at Muireann. "Perhaps you should have your friends see to the fallen? You may keep anything that they possess, if you wish."

Muireann nods. "Thank you." She turns, then stops. "What will you do if they return?"

"I do not know," Ceolwen admits quietly. "This is our home and we would give much to keep it... but we may have no choice but to flee with Frithwyn."

"I do not know what help we can give," Egon says. "But we cannot give any until you are truthful with us. Speak, man! Tell us why they would level this accusation against you."

Muireann nods, her expression grim. "I wish you luck. May the gods keep you and your family safe." With that, she picks up her bow, stepping back out into the night, closing the door tightly behind her. The scene outside was as unchanged as it had been before she'd gone in. She sighs, plucking distractedly at the bowstring as she watches the conversation continue to unfold. Based on what Coelwen had told her, she did believe that Frithgar would keep silent about the truth. But would the others see through her facade? Would they see the truth written on her face, no matter how hard she would try to conceal it? 

Frithgar is starting to drag once of the fallen away from his home when Egon addresses him. He looks up with fatigue etched across his face. "I already told you that the ealdorman needs an excuse to seize my land. What more do you want from me?"

Egon folds his arms across his chest, with one hand reaching up to stroke the beard that had begun to grow in since his captivity. "I want you to swear to the gods that there is no merit to their accusations. Or on the life of your wife and child. Whichever you deem more important."

Goewyn remains quiet, not even sure as to what the reasoning was for the attack, but she was not remaining behind no matter this man's offer of shelter. She had her own quest and if the others decide to remain behind for their own reasons, then so be it; however, she needed to remind them of this perhaps. "We will not be staying here no matter what. We are leaving. Sooner the better after we allowed that man to leave after threatening our lives. We should have cut his throat and left him and the others for carrion in the woods. We have repaid your kindness by saving your lives. If you would seek to survive another night, then you should leave as well. Come Hrothgar, gather your things."  She heads back into the barn and begins gathering her supplies in preparation for leaving. 

Muireann's eyes narrow as Goewyn makes her pronouncement and disappears back into the barn. After a moment, she sweeps down the steps and follows behind the woman. "It is the middle of the night," she hisses, staying framed in the doorway of the barn. "If you wish to push on without rest, then so be it. Do not presume to make my decisions for me."

Goewyn turns to stare at the celtic woman. "If you wish to turn your back upon the quest imparted upon you by Magan, then so be your choice. I will not be staying here for them to return with even more warriors. I am leaving and will find somewhere safer to rest for the remainder of the evening."

Muireann stares back. "Do not doubt my resolve. But if you think I will blindly follow the whims of one person, then you would be mistaken. Blind faith is what gets you killed." She turns on her heel, walking back out of the barn, her hands gripping her bow tightly.