It was well after noon when Régnwald emerged from the house he shared with the other young riders and recruits, but the sun was still relentlessly burning from the cloudless sky, and a few steps down the main road were sufficient to make him break into a sweat again.
"Béma have mercy!" Ulcwine complained as he followed him, the sack with the few belongings he would take with him on the ride on his shoulders just like his friend. "It's hotter than in the smithy out here! We'll melt before we reach the Wold!"
"It's still two hours till departure. It will be cooler by then."
"Oh?" Ulcwine snorted, and kicked up a dust cloud. "I doubt that. There is not a single cloud on the horizon that could shield us. The only difference to now will be that the sun will stand a bit further in the west, as far as I see it."
"So go and ask the Marshal; perhaps he will let you stay here."
"That is very funny, Régnwald!" His eyes narrowed to slits, Ulcwine squinted down the hazy street. "Am I mistaken or is that Léod over there? Is he still training? If he loses his title, it will be because he is not rested enough."
"I'm certain he knows what he is doing." But Régnwald's curiosity was aroused. "Come, let's watch him! Perhaps we can learn something."
"Learn something? From Léod the Bear?" Ulcwine gave a dry laugh. "Before we can learn something from him, we will need to double our weight. Béma, I surely couldn't have lifted the weights he was working with these past weeks even once! Whoever will have the bad luck of fighting him at the festival will get crushed."
"Not Thorwald." Régnwald remembered the times when he had seen the big warrior from Théodred's éored fight at previous midsummer celebrations. He had been the undisputed champion of wrestling for the last six years, but had lost his title the past year because of a muscle rupture within the first moments of the final fight against Léod. There had been bad blood between the two men ever since, as Thorwald had felt cheated of his title and let no opportunity pass to say so whenever their éoreds had met, and it was clear to everyone that this year's wrestling contest would receive at least as much attention as the big race.
The two friends reached the fence and dropped their bags, resting their arms on the crossbeam to watch their fellow rider's training fight just like many other inhabitants. Léod's opponent was Gærwulf, whom many believed to be the second-strongest man in Aldburg. He, too, would participate in the contest, but it was clear to the observing crowd that it would take a miracle for the warrior from Anfald's éored to defeat his younger training partner in a title fight. Even so, Gærwulf had won a respectable fifth place the previous year's Midsummer Fest, so he was certainly not to be underestimated.
Right now, he had Léod in a firm hold on the ground, trying to push his shoulders down and thus end the fight, a situation that would probably not have developed had the younger man not insisted to train a specific technique to disentangle himself. Both fighters were covered in dust and sweat and oblivious to the cheers of their audience as they struggled for the better position.
"You can barely tell who is who under all this grime!" Ulcwine wrinkled his nose in disapproval and looked along the fence, astonished to find that the majority of the observers were female. "And still the womenfolk really seem to enjoy this."
Régnwald grinned.
"Well, it's Léod." It was explanation enough, for the mighty warrior was seldom seen without changing female company. Régnwald did not know whether he approved of his comrade's loose way of life or not, but the women he had been with didn't seem to mind that they were not the only ladies in their hero's life. He sighed. "What I wouldn't give to have his build...!"
"If you had his muscles and his weight, you wouldn't have won the foxtail, and you would never compete in the great race with any hope to win," his friend stated matter-of-factly, and Régnwald knew that Ulcwine was right. "I mean, just look at his horse! Éoten* may be the tallest and strongest horse in our éored, but he would never win any race. He would surely make a good plough-horse, but-"
"Don't let Léod hear that you think of his noble stallion as plough-horse, or he will grind you into bone powder," the son of Régn laughed, and then nodded approvingly when the subject of their discussion slipped out of his opponent's hold with a powerful move and threw him onto his shoulders. The fight was over, and the applause his' as he rose to his feet and wiped his hands on his dirty trousers.
"Damnation!" Gærwulf grumbled remorsefully as he allowed his opponent to help him up. "That was a good trick! I thought that I had you, and then you used my weight as a lever. I can't wait to see whether Thorwald will fall for it, as well."
"Provided he doesn't rupture a muscle again to evade the fight. He's getting old, and he knows it," Léod snorted and picked up his belongings, only noticing now that his entire frame was caked with dirt, much to the delight of the women beyond the fence.
"Come with me and I'll wash you," one of them offered.
"And I'll rub you dry afterwards," the red-head next to her and obviously her sister, giggled, and Léod, having spied their recruits beyond the fence, cast them a big grin.
"What can I say? It's a hard life!"
"Certainly, Sir." Ulcwine nodded earnestly. "A fight against a horde of orcs would no doubt be much preferable." He didn't see the women's sudden indignant glares, but felt Régnwald's elbow painfully against his ribs. "Ow! What? This was a joke!"
With an apologetic expression, Léod turned to the blushing women.
"Eadgyth, Mildwyne... I would no doubt greatly enjoy what you're offering, but unfortunately, it seems that today, I am a little short of time, and the river will have to suffice ..." He saw their disappointed faces and added: "For now. I will gladly get back to it upon our return if your offer still stands by then."
"My," the older one said, and coyly inclined her head. "If the double champion of wrestling would still bother with us simple women?"
To which the tall warrior raised his hand in defence.
"I am not double champion yet, and would prefer not to be named that until I have the title, please. It is just something I believe in. And of course I will still enjoy being with you two delightful ladies upon our return."And with those words, he gallantly took his suitors' hands to brush a fleeting kiss on them. "Until then." He turned around to his two stunned recruits. "To the river, boys!"
Image was taken from the movie, ''Beowulf & Grendel''
Two hours later, Aldburg's marketplace was overcrowded with people and horses as half of the city's éored captains and men assembled for Dryhtengemot. Although the shadows had lengthened, Ulcwine had been right to suspect that the temperatures had not much changed in the course of the afternoon, but now that everyone had packed their belongings and saddled their horses for the ride, an exuberant atmosphere was in the air when the city gates opened. "Ride safely, and return with a few titles for our proud city!" Ælfgar, who would be in command of Aldburg in Elfhelm's absence, shouted over the marketplace and was rewarded with wild jeering when the riders thundered past him. The dust cloud they swirled up still hung in the air long after the gates had closed behind the last rider.
