Muireann gently strokes the creature's neck, shushing softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distress you. We're looking for stolen cattle, is all. The owner would certainly be unhappy about losing their animals."
Muireann gently strokes the creature's neck, shushing softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distress you. We're looking for stolen cattle, is all. The owner would certainly be unhappy about losing their animals."
Of course. Too complex. "But you don't need to worry about that. You've been more than helpful." She strokes the horse's neck, glancing over at the barn, now fully engulfed in flames. "How long have you been at this pasture? Less than one sun?"
"Many," the horse tells Muireann, starting to bray and stamp its feat as the growing flames stoke the fear inside it.
Muireann gently guides the horse further from the flames, soothing it softly. "You've been here long. Would you call this place home?"
"No," the horse tells Muireann wistfully. "Home is not a barn. Home has no fence. Home is the wind in my mane in the long grass on the hill."
A wave of sadness passes over her. "So is mine. But a long way from here. Across the waters. A place called Ireland. It's beautiful." She scratches the horse behind the ear again. "I can take you home. But I need your help first."
"We need to get these cows back to their home. Help me get them there, and I'll take you to your home."
Calix looks over from where he'd been running a hand searchingly over the horse's side, reassuring himself the wound had healed, and raises an eyebrow first at Muireann and then at Egon. "It isn't one from my side of your island, I can vouch for that." With another pat to the horse, he nods back toward the rapidly-burning barn and begins backing toward it. "Watch this one for me, will you. She's had a rough morning. There's more left inside."
"Curious," Egon says. He takes the reigns of the horse Calix indicated. He calls after the Frank. "Be careful. I don't wish to burn to death rescuing you." He continues to watch Muireann speak with the horse. "Curious indeed."
"Thank you, friend," she murmurs to the creature. She looks back to the burning barn. "Are the other horses your friends?"
Goewyn stares at Muireann for a moment as she speaks with the horse, wondering if she was just mad or if... she could actually speak with animals. She had known many strange things since meeting the Red Wolves and this was likely just another of those moments. As the flames start to fully take on the barn, she hears the panicked sounds of the horses trapped within and follows Calix into the barn which was rapidly filling with smoke. "Come, we must get them out of here." She approaches the first one, calmly with her palm extended towards its nose to allow it see and smell her, touching it gently against the horse's snout. "Peace, peace." As the horse reacts to the calmness she presents, its thrashings stop and she is able to take the reins and pass them to Calix. "Lead this one out, I'll get the other." WIth a similar process, she escorts the remaining horse out of the barn.
She looks at the dark smoke beginning to rise from the barn. "We need to get these cattle out of here, quickly. There will likely be pursuit coming after us with this smoke... I did not think that part through when I did that..."
"This fire was yours? Did you not trust our blades?" Calix is almost offended, pulling the second horse level with the others. "Moving cattle and doing anything quickly seems to me two very different things. We are better to abandon them and take the horses we have. Sweet lady Swithwyn can recover them herself."
Muireann cocks her head, sizing up the creature. "It suits you. Little Thunder. That's what we'll call you."
sansasnark said:
"This fire was yours? Did you not trust our blades?" Calix is almost offended, pulling the second horse level with the others
Goewyn cocks her head to stare at Calix. "Says the fool that allowed himself to be led into that." She gestures at the building roof. "Trusting your blades too much is for fools. You should trust in this!" She points at her temple. "Your suggestion does have merit. We have our horses and we have no alliance with this ealdorman. What say the rest of you? Take these horses and any coin we can recover from these fools before we continue on our way?"
Over the growing roar of the burning barn, Muireann can hear the bickering tones of her current traveling companions. She sighs, resting her head against Little Thunder's neck for a brief moment. "It was never this loud in Ireland," she mutters under her breath. Sighing, she turns back, gently leading her new friend back to the others, in time to hear Goewyn's suggestion. "But it would be cruel to leave them here with no caretaker."
"You say rely on your head, yet started a fire that will attract half of Wessex. That was not an issue until they became aware I was not alone. My blade had it handled." Calix lifts a brow, turning the horse he holds toward the one he'd healed as Muireann returns. The concept of cruelty had taken on a new meaning in the time he'd spent chained and caged. "We haven't the time to play at cowherd for kindness' sake."
"Peace, everyone," Egon says, stepping into the middle of the argument. "Perhaps it was foolish to allow Calix to go in alone. It was also foolish to set what is now essentially a signal fire. But we gave our word that we would return these cattle to Corinium, and I intend to do so. The ealdorman will reward us fairly, even if we do not need horses." He looks at the rising plume of smoke. "But we must be quick."
"They will assume the worst of us if we arrive back with horses of our own, and that reward is like to be chains." He gives Egon a long look before ultimately shrugging. "If you think there is a way around it, I will follow you. But I won't be put back in a cage."
Egon frowns. "We will simply explain the truth of the matter," he says. "Why would we show up with the cattle if we stole our own horses from some unfortunate passerby?"
"You have far more trust than I after what was done to us," he responds. "Better men than us have gone to their grave for thinking truth a shield against greed, and Swithwyn will take any opportunity not to pay us. But we can test it if you wish. Your faith against mine." He gives a crooked grin. "I'm sure it will not be the last time."
Muireann scratches Little Thunder behind the ear again, nodding to the cows. "I'll talk to them." She gathers the cows together, walking amongst them as she talks to them. "I know that you all hate moving. But my friends and I want to get you home, where you belong. And the grass is certainly greener and fresher there. Come with us, and you won't need to move again."
Muireann's words are convincing enough to get the herd moving, but most are fat and lazy and the going is slow as the band of riders attempts to drive them back up into the hills. Smoke rises high over the burning barn behind them and distant shouts can be heard as the locals hurry to fight the fire.
While the others began leading the cattle away, Goewyn looks around with impatience before slipping off to backtrack and ensure they are not being followed by anyone once the bodies and fire have been discovered. She stops well within the treeline to ensure she can get a good view of the area, but far enough back to ensure she cannot be spotted.
As Goewyn loiters in the undergrowth near the barn, she can see numerous locals congregating around the barn, passing buckets of water from the brook to the north as they try to put out the fire.
Satisfied that the people of Gleawecastre are too preoccupied with the burning barn to pursue the cattle, Goewyn returns to the rest of her companions. It's long, slow work driving the cows up into the wooded hills and a few hours later the sun begins to set. It seems unlikely that the herd will make it more than halfway to its original pasture today.
With the sun low in the sky, Muireann scouts ahead to find a grove suitable for the herd to rest in. The night is still, but for the mooing of the cows, and by mid morning the next day the cattle emerge from the steep wooded trail into the late summer sun shining on the pastures at Cowley. A lone man in a broad straw hat sits perched atop a fence post near the hamlet's huts, chewing on a head of wheat. He glances up in the direction of the five riders driving the herd out of the trees and raises a hand in greeting from afar.
As the cows draw nearer to the fields of Cowley, the man comes forwards to receive them.
"Thankin' y'kindly," he tells Egon with a nod. "Were y'followed?"
Egon shakes his head. "Not to my knowledge. The brigands are dead and the townspeople were somewhat busy as we left." His voice sounds certain, but he looks to Goewyn to confirm.
The farmer nods stoically in response.
"Well, there'll be extra lookouts for a while, but Woden willin' they'll think twice 'fore startin' summat like that again. Y'ave our thanks. Will y'stay f'r some food?"
"The offer is appreciated, but we must make use of the daylight," Egon says. He looks to the other three for confirmation, but begins making his way back toward the village and the ealdorman's house.
The farmer shrugs and heads towards the herd.
"Suit yourselves. I'll see t'it tha' this lot are safe in their pasture."
He tells Egon and the others, heading on into the field to gather the cows.
The ride back over the Cotswolds to Corinium only takes a couple of hours and, come noon, the travellers once more stand before the home of Ealdorman Aelfbrand. The boy Eoforwig stands in the yard, brushing down the shining blood bay coat of a powerfully built horse.
Egon rides up to the yard and dismounts. "Eoforwig, right? Will you tell the ealdorman that we've returned?"
Eoforwig nods deferently to Egon and runs off inside. Not long later, Aelfbrand appears in the doorway and beckons to Egon to come closer.
"Any trouble?" He asks quietly.
"Nothing we couldn't handle," Egon says. "I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say that your cattle have been returned."
"...and so you have returned, but not on foot." Aelfbrand notes, glancing at the horses with an arched eyebrow. "I suppose that this means that you will no longer be needing what you came looking for?" He cautiously ventures.
"The men guarding your stolen cattle were kind enough to lend us these horses," Egon says, a wry smile marring his face. "We would like for supplies for our journey, but will ask no more of you than that."
Goewyn looks between the two, then steps forward. "Perhaps even a bit of silver to ease the troubles of the roads would be sufficient for returning your property to you?"
Aelfbrand frowns at Gowyn's forthright approach, having obviously been about to simply agree with Egon. However, he does nod to Eoforwig, who soon returns with a small box, from which the Ealdorman retrieves five carved armbands of silver.
"Please, take this symbol of our gratitude, in Woden's name."
Calix had been about to reach for the armband, seeing only the glint of silver, but his hand stills at the simple, unsuspecting statement of who it honors. The weight of the cross beneath his jerkin all but doubles against his chest and he instead claps a hand on Egon's shoulder. "Two are meant for you," he tells the man, already turning back toward the horses. "For debts unpaid."
"I..." Egon frowns as Calix retreats, glancing over his shoulder at the Christian. Rather than continue that train of thought at that moment, he pulls all five armbands out and passes them out to Goewyn, Muireann, and Hrothgar. He pockets two, resolving to talk to Calix about it later. "Thank you for your generosity," Egon says with a slight bow. "We go in peace, in Woden's name."
Aelfbrand offers Egon and his companions a nod of respect and a wave of farewell, before turning and heading back inside his home.
"East then?" Hrothgar suggests, clicking to his horse to set it moving. "Never thought I'd see a Christian with that cross so far up his arse that he won't even take our silver."