''And where will you be riding to?'' Berawyn asked.
''The plan was to make the ride for Snowbourne, yet I must have a word with the Thane of Entwade before that.''
''With the Thane you say... Give him my regards!''
Régnwald climbed down the stairs and paced toward the Thane who has been checking the caravan with a troubled visage. Bowing his head calmly, he clasped his arms to greet him. ''My thane,'' and he paused, watching the townsfolk struggling to ready the caravan. ''What's it with this hurry?'' he asked, frowning.
Thane Edric turned his gaze to Régnwald, ''We have a merchant caravan that needs to arrive Middlemead before the night falls, yet we have no escorts and the times are hard enough to send these people out of town unprotected.'' he paused, calling the leader of the caravan while letting his speech to hang. ''A small company from Entwade have joined Anfald's éored in Snowbourne, so here we have nothing more than ford watchers.''
Régnwald listened to his words, his eyes hardened and in wonder. He drew in a deep breath and spoke in a firm tone, ''That's something we shall have to handle then.''
Cynebur who has been listening the conversation calmly, rose tall and asked, ''Shall I inform the others, Æthelwigend?''
''Aye, that would be indeed fine, Cynebur. Tell them the plan is changed.''
Cynebur saluted him and retired swiftly.
Berawyn who has been staring at them nearby approached this time, ''My lord, may I ask to come along on your route? There is a herbmaster I wish to speak there, if he still dwells there that is.''
''If you wish, very well.''
The old woman smiled and recalled the same kindness Régn of Eastfold had.
Before long, Cynebur returned with the other eight horsemen, all packed and armed for the trip. She ordered them to form a line two by two. Régnwald's steed was also near them. Cynebur held the horse by bridle for him to mount up.
Régnwald gave her a thankful nod, and mounted up Gramlic with a lithe move. One of the riders extended him his spear. They were ready.
Cynebur had already hopped on her wild Fyrebur, always eager for gallop and skirmish. She moved around the company, circling and sharing the word of her captain, securing the elderly lady "Two of each side of hers, two archers two maercwardas!" she ordered, firmly. And she took the rear position, constantly shifting around the caravan with two other maercwardas.
'’Flanks secure, Æthelwigend hal!'
‘’Let this be a swift and safe ride.’’ Régnwald said lowly and Berawyn, who looked well on her gray horse nodded with agreement. And Régnwald patted the side of Gramlic with his left foot, making it to give a loud whinny and start trotting over the grassy road, and so it began.
They rode for some time. The sun fell to the west and the honeyed hues of dusk faded to the glistening of countless stars. Their pace was slow, for there was a caravan behind them. There came a branching in the road, and they turned north again. They came upon a burned carriage the road ahead.
Régnwald halted his horse and so did the rest of the horsemen.
Cynebur dismounted and ran around with four other riders, they revealed two corpses mauled to death, one of them was a young female perhaps a child.
''Béma have mercy!'' Ulcwine swallowed.
''Oh the poor child,'' said Berawyn and she kissed an amulet she took from her pouch and placed it in the hand of the young female, folding her hand closed.
Régnwald casted his proud eyes down, surveying the bodies ''We must press on.''
Cynebur took off a blanket off the cart and covered the corpses as they were placed together, then all returned to their steeds.
Up on the faint horizon, a horseman approached, galloping. The man was Kharal. He halted his horse swiftly near them and removed his helm.
''Westhu hal!''
Régnwald glanced up at the approaching rider, greeting him with a solemn nod; yet not saying a word.
"Ah... Still the poachers around here, Captain? Something to do?"
''The Orcs,'' he shook his head, his eyes turning cold with grim visage under his plumed helm.
''I knew this!'' Kharal added.
''We have no time to waste. Join our ride if you will, éorling.'' And after a brief converse, Kharal also joined their course.
Later on the road, they came across to another burned carriage, not much time has passed over this one. and the smell of men flesh filled the nostrils of the horses, and the men.
''The thane must have lost his mind to send these people without protection!'' exclaimed Régnwald.
''Mindless indeed,'' Cynebur agreed, checking his horse and she dismounted.
Ulcwine cursed Mordor openly, ''Everywhere the smell of death and smoke. Mordor will pay for this.''
''There's a man here still... I think he's still alive'' shouted Berawyn, pointing his hand over the man laying dead near the carriage.
Régnwald turned his gaze back to the company, ''We already took half of the road. They are coming with us.'' he spoke plainly.
Kharal dismounted his horse and ran towards the wounded man, taking him on his back and atop his large black steed. ''Captain!'' he exclaimed.
''What is it?''
''Let me take this man to Entwade, I'll ride swift I promise. I know someone who can help him.''
''Very well, be careful and join us when you're done!''
Kharal nodded and mounted on his horse swiftly, and before long, he could be seen galloping a league away.
''We shall press on!''
A rider's horse suddenly reared with a cry. Régnwald had immediately drawn his sword as one of the horsemen shouted the éorling's name in alarm. He winced when he noticed an arrow protruding from the stallion's chest. Before he could give the rider or his horse another thought, orc riders burst from all sides, brandishing their swords.
"We are ambushed!"
The orcs were upon them. The two fought side by side as the orcs came at them one after another. The rest eight had already charged the herd with a cry, "King, Clan and Country!" and whinnyings of the horses accompanied them.
Régnwald led his horse straight through the middle of the orcs and ducked the swings of their axes and swords. He saw an orc who fell from his horse and he buried the spike into his back.
"Hold the flanks! Protect the caravan!"
Orc rider heard the rapid trampling of a horse coming at him and looked up as Ulcwine's sword hacked into his throat, throwing the filthy orc off his black horse as blood shot out of his neck like a geyser.
Berawyn swung her staff randomly to protect herself. She did it so quickly that she managed to knock down an orc who fell from its horse.
''Are you hurt?'' asked Régnwald.
Berawyn shook his head, confused ''I'm alright...''
Upon charging, shieldmaiden Cynebur's steed was speared through neck and she jumped off her steed, rolling around. No sooner, she mounted up the black horse owner of which was just killed by her hand. The wild beast tried repeatedly to shake her off. Régnwald watched her battling the wild horse, once of Riddermark breed, tortured by the orcs to carry their masters.
All around him his company fought until every last vile creature had been destroyed by blade, spear, fire or horse’s hooves. It was not far into the night yet, not even midnight. However, it was still winter, so the nights were long and cold. The heat of the fires flicked at what little skin shown on the armored horsemen. Their shining mail and hard leather plating had protected them.
Régnwald's temperament began to fall, now with the excitement of the ambush waning. He did his best to keep occupied and others occupied, for there was much to be done and saved, but his nerves wracked him. When it finished, Régnwald turned his attention to his men,
''Secure the area, and take whatever supplies you can, we are leaving this place!''
Half of the men had quickly gathered the strewn supplies that were in danger of being burned, the others tended to the wounded. Soon they departed again.
A dim glow appeared less than a league away. Stipples of firelight from many torches and house windows beckoned them.
''Middlemead, at last...'' Berawyn sighed with relief.
The gate guard greeted them. A company waited in the plaza to greet them. The horsemen halted there and unseated. One of the man who waited was Aden, son of Foren, approached the Captain with great concern,
''My Lord, the Red Dawn has risen this morn! All of us have been accounted for, and so our hearts despaired in your absence. Who of those that rode with you have fallen?'' He clasped his brown cloak.
''None of ours fell,'' Régnwald reported, dismounting. ''It was not for us, but for the merchants that were ambushed on the road the Red Dawn rose.''
Aden was speechless, but he merely nodded, ''Rest in our mead hall as long as you like!'
They found their way to the stables and then on to the terrace of the mead hall. The sun was beginning to rise, and out before them the spreading grasslands of the Mark were turning from grey to gold beneath the haze of the waning darkness.
