{the sequel to "Of Confessions"}
A few townsfolk still milled about, but the large clearing outside the mead-hall had been cleaned since the morning's duel. The beheaded corpse had been borne away and the grass thankfully washed of the blood of the gory deed. A quick word with one of the hall's guards, watchful for any reprisals from the slain man's supporters, and Thorvall took a torch from the man. The sun had set, darkness stretching shadows over the town. Visible however, looming like daylight-stricken trolls from the gloom, were the standing stones. Erected in an age before the Eothed had settled the land, they were a monument to some long-distant kin of the Dunlendings, and gave the hint that the place chosen for the hall's building in later centuries had long been a seat of power.
Aeshaeidr kept quiet and close to Thorvall even as he spoke with a guard of the hall; once the torch was in hand she stayed just on the edge of the flickering firelight. "The standing stones," she said, glancing at Thorvall. "Is this what you wished to show me, Lord Thane?"
Thorvall nodded with a small smile. "This way..." He beckoned her onward. "Tell me." He spoke as he stepped from the path and onto the meadow. "Has Wrecca or Osythe ever spoken to you of their oath-swearing?"
Aeshaeidr followed him, still remaining just at the edge of the torchlight. "No, they have not; Alweard has, or has spoken of the fact that he did not swear, yet still chooses to ride among you. In that, I suppose, the request is wholly my own."
Thane nodded, seemingly content at letting that topic rest for the moment. "This hall belongs to the folk of Fylstott, but some of it is our own, here..." He wore something of a mischievous smile. Holding up the torch he illuminated a sturdy pole, atop of a tattered and torn banner, blood daubed and topped with the skull of what appeared to be a young drake.
Aeshaeidr took a step back to glance up at the banner and the skull above it. "This is... this isn't the one I wrought free at Sedgebury, is it?"
Thorvall nodded. "The skull was atop it, but in your slaying of the bearer I believe it toppled; I had it retrieved." Near the banner was another captured standard, that of the Falcon clan. Recovered rather than taken during the battle, it was lower than the dread dragon banner.
"Not many halls in this land outside of Aldburg, Edoras, and the Hornburg can boast such trophies, Aeshaeidr, and it is because of you that we can." He grinned across at her. "You should have seen the townsfolk gather when I had it raised to display, they seemed to think it may come to life and breathe flames upon them."
Aeshaeidr crossed her arms over her chest as if trying to hide herself, the sheathed sword still clutched in her hands. "I didn't see it when it was raised," she murmured. "I had only done what was asked of me, Thorvall Lord, but... thank you for showing me this."
Thorvall shook his head. "I didn't tell you to do it, I only said that I wanted it. It was you who took the initiative..." He gazed up at it for a moment longer then stepped away. "But that isn't what I brought you here for, not entirely." He moved on.
The Stone circle was a double ring (although others may have been present, before being removed for building materials). Passing the stones that marked the boundary between the two, he led his companion into the tighter of the rings, backed by a huge boulder that looked to be a natural feature rather than one placed there. Work had been done upon the stones. Carvings, not akin to the ancient curves and swirls of the original inhabitants, but those of the Horse-lords.
"We made our Oaths, with Wrecca, Osythe and the rest at Eorl's Hallow; as good a place as any that we passed, by fortune alone, to make an Oath..." He turned to the woman once more. "This will be our own Hallow, this will be the place of our oath-making when the masons hired from the Hornburg complete their work."
Aeshaeidr felt her jaw fall softly open as she looked up at the half-complete carvings, her eyes raising up to study the stones. "This... this is beautiful, Oath-lord. Do the others know about this yet?"
Thorvall shook his head. "Unless they have chanced upon it then no, they do not..." He stepped forward then to trace a gloved hand across the shape taking form: a rider, possibly Eorl himself. "You will take your Oath here when it is done, if you still wish to."
She nodded, her gaze following the line of the carving taking shape. "I will still wish to, Oath-lord, at least that much I can promise with sincerity."
He sighed as if he pondered something, idle hands resting briefly at his sides. He did not ponder it for long however, as his eyes fell to the sheathed weapon in her hands. "Your blade, the one I gifted you. Have you named it yet?"
Aeshaeidr pulled her eyes away from the carving stone to look at Thorvall. Holding the sheathed seax out once more, she shook her head. "I have not. I did not think I should name it if I was going to try and give it back."
He nodded once. "Then I ask now that you swear a different oath, not to me, but upon that blade." He took a step closer, illuminating the sheath of the sword; gilded and reminiscent of heroes from times gone by. "An oath that you will be true to yourself, not in who you fear to be, but who you wish to be...." He drew himself to his full height, gaze seeking Aeshaeidr's. "An Oath that you will strive to do the right thing, do right by innocents, by this land, by this town and, above all, by your comrades." He put some emphasis on that last point. "Will you swear that oath now, before me, unto yourself?"
Aeshaeidr held the blade out so that it could be seen in the light, and looked up to hold Thorvall's gaze as he spoke. Though she may have trembled beneath his tone before, now she held steadfast as he laid out the terms of the oath. "Yes," she said breathlessly, before drawing herself up straighter. "Yes, I swear it. On this blade, I will do right by all."
"Then I name this blade Hyldáþ, to remind you of the oath you have made here tonight. May it keep your path true, and cut down any that may force you from it." Once more he laid a hand upon Aeshaeidr's shoulder. "You are one of us, my friend, and just as you would stand and fight to the last for any one of us, we would do the same for you. Never forget that truth. This is the beginning of your new life.”
