A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took so long. Life got in the way. But it's here now and I hope to have the next chapter before Hell freezes over, which should be sometime in November as Michigan weather goes. A tip of the hat to the Hayfield of Inspiration, mowed before its time. 'Til we meet again next year.
THREE YEARS LATER
Cearo, balancing a young child on one hip, stood on top of a small hill not far from the house, her free hand shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun while she looked for any signs of Algar, Helm, and Aelfrid, who had been gone for the last three months on patrol with others Riders, above the grasses. Rheda would have gone out herself to look for her husband and two of their sons, but she had to keep an eye on the pig roasting over the fire so it wouldn't burn. Cearo, never fond of working around the fire, had only too happily agreed, taking Wilone, the youngest child, with her so she wouldn't get in Rheda's way.
"Stupid hair," she muttered, dropping her hand from her eyes to pull hair out of her mouth and tuck it behind her ear. She knew she was fighting a losing battle and wondered how long it would stay behind her ear this time. She'd tried Rheda's suggestion for how to keep her hair from being pulled loose and blown into a rat's nest by the unceasing wind but it had become as much of a rat's nest as it always did. Stupid wind. Why did everything have to be so flat, instead of hills and mountains to block the wind, or at least some of it. And why did the grass have to grow so tall? It was such a pain to walk through when it was nearly as tall as she was. And the hair was back in the mouth. "I'm going inside. Tellan and Bram can stand out here and watch and pick their hair out of their mouths constantly."
Cearo put her hand back up over her eyes and gave the horizon to the north one last quick scan before shifting Wilone around to her front so the child would be easier to carry.
"Wanna get down," Wilone said, trying to move out of Cearo's arms.
"Not here, honey. I want you right with me so you don't get lost in the grass." The thought of getting separated from Wilone in the grasses made her shudder slightly with horror.
"I won't. I'll hold onto your hand real tight." Wilone nodded emphatically twice then stared at Cearo with an expression that never failed to melt her heart.
Except this time. "When you're taller, love. Now put your arms around my neck and make sure you hold on."
Back at the house, she set Wilone down not far from the door and yelled to Rheda she was back. "There's no sign of them yet and Wilone is-running after one of the chickens again." She laughed and watched Wilone, yelling for the chicken to stop and play with her, chasing after a bird who was running as fast as its legs could carry it for a moment before going inside to help Rheda. "What do you need me to do?"
"Nothing, right now. Everything is under control." A loud squak of chicken indignation floated in through the door. Rheda stopped chopping a thick root and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it slowly. "Or it was." She opened her eyes and, looking at Cearo with an almost pleading expression, asked, "Could you please go save her from having her arms pecked up?"
Cearo tried not to laugh. "I don't think Wilone is the one in need of saving, but yes, I'll go distract her from tormenting next week's dinner. Unless you'd like me to take over for you and you could go take a break and spend time with her."
Rheda shook her head. "I don't need a break. I'm fine." The chicken squaked again. "Go save Wilone and the chicken from each other."
"She's going to work herself to death," Cearo muttered under her breath as she went outside. Wilone's birth two years past had been a difficult one for Rheda and she'd never fully recovered, tiring faster and needing more help now, but she refused to slow down and let Cearo and her brothers ease her workload. Rheda had collapsed before and it was only a matter of time before she collapsed again.
Squirming toddler clutched against her chest, Cearo carried Wilone back to the house and set her down just inside the door and gave her her dolly to play with before going to stand by Rheda. "You've been working all day, you look tired, you need a break, go play with your daughter and rest for a bit. I can take care of whatever else needs to be done."
Without looking up, Rheda calmly replied, "I'm fine, Cearo. I don't need a break."
"Yes, you do. You're tired. Your hand is unsteady and the slices are unevenly cut. Go take a break. Let Wilone tell you about when we went flower picking earlier."
"The slices are-" Rheda sighed and half-heartedly pushed stray hair out of her
face. "I'll admit I'm a little tired but I'm almost done. I don't need a break."
"Rheda, go rest. Go play with Wilone." Wryly, she added, "I think I can handle the daunting task of slicing bread and I will make sure the pig doesn't burn. Tellan and I will take it off the fire when it's done." Wilone chose that moment to toddle over and tug on Rheda's skirt and ask her to play dolls with her. Rheda, meeting Cearo's smug expression with one of wry amusement, wordlessly handed the knife to Cearo and went to play with her daughter. Chucking under her breath, Cearo turned her attention to the loaf in front of her.
The men were still not home when Cearo finished the last of the supper preparations. 'The pig is off the fire, berries are chilling in the bowl in the stream, the neeps are roasting in the coals…what else?' Cearo thought as she looked around the cooking/eating area. Seeing nothing that had been forgotten, she wiped her hands on her overdress and told Rheda, who was busy listening to Wilone tell her about the flowers she'd picked earlier, she was going back out to the hill to watch for the men. As an afterthought, she took her wool wrap in case the men didn't arrive home until the air had begun evening cooling.
Out on the hill, Cearo wove herself a circlet of buttercups and daisies while bees flew from flower to flower, the buzzing sounding like 'Hurry! Hurry!', and butterflies sedately drifted through the air, looking so ethereal and weightless it seemed as if they simply floated along on the breeze, the illusion broken only by the occasional movement of wings. Cearo sighed and smiled, daydreaming about being a butterfly, just floating along, no worries. If she were a butterfly, she'd fly across the Mark and see the places and people Aldric and the other men told stories about when they returned from patrol. It wasn't fair she wasn't allowed to ride even as far as the nearest village because she was a woman and, therefore, needed to help Rheda but Kendric and Aelfrid and Helm and Daegol had been allowed to ride wherever they wanted since they were old enough to hold a short sword without dropping it. The younger ones couldn't go out without one of their older brothers, but at least they'd allowed to go and see something other than the endless stretches of grasslands around the house. It wasn't all bad, though. When she told Algar and Rheda she wanted to become a shieldmaiden, her lessons with a dagger and, later, short sword began the next day. Kenric, Helm, Aelfrid, Brego, and Daegol, in the tradition of brothers everywhere, had been happy to act as sparring partners since it allowed them to knock her around without getting in trouble. It had taken several years, but when she sparred with them now, she was able to have them on the ground, practice sword to their throat, about as often as they had her on the ground, sword at her throat. The expressions they wore when she did almost made up for being tied to the house.
The sun was a thin orange sliver low in the sky over the grass when Algar, Aelfrid, and Helm, all on horseback, becamae discernable in the distance. Cearo gave a shout of excitement and began waiving broadly, hoping they could see her. When the rider in the middle gave a waive in acknowledgement, Cearo turned and ran into the grass, roughly shoving it out of her was as she ran back to the house.
"They're here!" she exclaimed breathlessly, grabbing the doorframe as she ran into the house to stop herself. "I just saw them. I waived and one of them waived back." She leaned against the doorframe to catch her breath. "Anything I can do so the food's ready when they get here?"
Rheda, color high, pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face. "The berries and butter need to be brought in from the stream. Could you take Wilone?" The little girl was tugging at her mother's skirt and begging almost unceasingly to be picked up. Cearo smiled sympathetically.
"Of course. I'll show her the really pretty purple flowers that grow up there." The last part was directed at the little girl, whose face lit up at the mention of flowers. "You want to come with me?" She held out her hand to Wilone, who rushed over and wrapped her small one tightly around Cearo's pinky and ring fingers.
Wilone, anxious to help, insisted on picking a large handful of flowers to
decorate the butter with "to make it pretty for Daddy" and carrying the crock back herself. Cearo tried to convince her to carry the bowl of berries instead, as the crock of butter looked to be too heavy for Wilone, and was met with stubborn refusal. Finally, to make sure everything was ready when the men came inside, Cearo agreed Wilone could have the butter but only if she let Cearo carry her to the house.
"I wanna give it to Daddy," Wilone insisted after being picked up, arms tightly holding the crock.
"Make sure you tell Mommy that, so she doesn't try to," Cearo said as she walked back to the house, trying not to chuckle at how serious Wilone was. "You miss your Daddy a lot?"
"A lot a lot. I thought he'd never get home."
"It does seem like that sometimes. Oh, look!" Cearo pointed to the men, who were now close enough to tell who was who. "There's your daddy, in the middle, and Helm and Aelfrid. You want to waive to them?" Silly question. Cearo had to reach up quickly to keep the butter crock from falling when Wilone let go to waive and yell to her father and eldest brothers.
Cearo was just setting Wilone down and asking her to please set the crock on the ground while they waited for Daddy when the man in question, flanked by his sons, galloped out of the grass, reigning in their horses not far from Cearo, who'd gone white. Wilone simply scowled. "You almost rode into us!" she chastened her father and brothers. "You need to be careful."
"It was Father's idea," Helm said as he dismounted. "He's the one who told us to frighten you and Cearo."
"And you said it was an excellent idea," Aelfrid countered as he started to lead his horse to the fenced pasture near the house. "Scaring Cearo, that is. Hey!" He picked a clump of dried mud and grass out of his hair Helm had thrown at him. "Don't attack me for being honest."
"Too honest, brother," Helm said. "But since we're being honest, why don't I tell her what you said last night?" Aelfrid shot him a dark look, which made Helm grin and open his mouth to start speaking again.
"Not now," Algar said, shoving one of his gloves into Helm's open mouth. "You can tell her all about what Aelfrid said after we take care of the horses and put our equipment away." He turned to Wilone and picked her up, holding her upside down. "You look different than when I left, love," he said to her shoes. "What happened to you?"
"I'm upside down, Daddy," Wilone said between giggles.
"You are?" Wilone giggled. "So these are your feet." More giggling and something which sounded like "Yes". "I don't want to talk to your feet. Let's fix that." He turned Wilone right side up. "You're much prettier this way." He kissed her cheek. "Did we scare you with the horses?"
Wilone nodded emphatically. "Me and Ce'ro were real scared. I thought you were going to ride right over us."
"We would never do that. We only wanted to impress two of the most beautiful women in Rohan." He kissed the tip of her nose, making her giggle again.
"Who's the most beautiful, Daddy?"
"Your mommy," he said, looking over her shoulder at the woman standing in the doorway.
"You're saying that so I don't make you sleep outside tonight," Rheda remarked dryly as she walked over to Algar, her smile taking any sting out of her words.
"Never," Algar assured her, setting Wilone down and drawing Rheda in a tight hug. "I've missed you, love."
"I missed you too and I can't breathe." Algar set her back on her feet and loosened his hold. "Thank you. How was Patrol? All you three stink enough to knock an Orc dead. You always do. Wash in the stream before you come inside. I left clean clothes and soap for you three behind the house." Rheda rattled off the instructions as she walked back inside, never seemed to stop for breath. "We'll eat after you wash."
"I brought you butter, Daddy!" Wilone exclaimed, trying to lift up the crock but only getting it a short distance off the ground.
"Are those my favorite flowers in it?" Algar asked, kneeling to take the crock from Wilone. "Did you put them there?"
Blushing, she grinned and nodded. "I made it pretty for you, Daddy."
"Thank you, Little Bird. It's very pretty. I can't wait to taste how good the flowers have made it. Why don't you take it inside and after I stop smelling-"
"Like an orc!" Wilone exclaimed, giggling. "Mommy says you smell like an Orc!"
Algar nodded. "And since I don't want to smell like one of those, I'm going to wash up and put on clean clothes like Mommy wants me to and then we can eat and I'll taste your butter." He lightly kissed her forehead and set her down, telling her to go inside with Mommy.
"Walk with me, sister," Helm said casually, putting an arm around Cearo's shoulder as he lead his horse toward the pasture. "We can talk while I cool down Sherwyn."
"Don't believe a thing he tells you!" Aelfrid called as he and his horse caught up to them, an edge of fear to his voice.
Cearo laughed and looked over at him. "Why don't you tell me, then?" she teased. "Since I can't believe Helm."
"Just foolish talk after too much drink," he muttered, looking away, his neck turning red.
"Three pints is 'too much'?" Helm said. Aelfrid's color grew higher. To Cearo, he said, "The eodred camped outside a town last night and we all went to the tavern for some ale. After we'd had several pints, talk turned to what we'd be most glad to return home to. This one" he jerked his head in Aelfrid's direction "says-"
"Don't forget to mention what you said, brother," Aelfrid interjected. "How glad you'd be to see Elfhild later tonight. Meeting under the cooked oak tree, if I recall correctly."
"We're to be married next month. What's your point?" Helm asked irritably.
"You were sitting next to Father when you said that."
"He and her parents knew our plans before we left, idiot."
"So he's meeting Elfhild later," I spoke up. "So what?" I shrugged. "I think it's very romantic."
The brothers snorted with laughter. " Romantic'?" Alefrid said. "What does that have to do with what he said about wanting to tum-"
"I've missed her," Helm interrupted tersely, "and I'm looking forward to seeing her again. With her dress on," he added when Aelfrid started to say something, "and her brother will be there. But enough about what I said. What you said was far more interesting."
"Don't even-" Aelfrid's voice had gone hard.
"'Don't even' what, Aelfrid?" Helm shot back. "Don't say anything? I don't have to. Father will say enough for the both of us." He smiled slyly. "You're too easy to get a reaction out of, Aelfie."
Aelfrid's neck and ears turned a deep red. "Don't call me that! And don't say anything," he snapped coldly, "or I'll tell Elfhild's father about the women I saw you with during patrol."
"You go too far, brother," Helm said, barely concealed anger heavy in his frosty tone, as he loosened Sherwyn's girth. Cearo backed away a few steps, afraid they might come to blows. "I told you months ago, when you first came to me, I wouldn't say anything and you shouldn't either. I stopped being bound by that when you shot your mouth off last night. When you were sober, no less." He gave Aelfrid a look of dismay and frustration. "What were you thinking last night? You've always been good at getting yourself into messes but this tops the rest."
"Everything is going to be fine," Aelfrid snapped. "Just keep quiet and I'll handle Father." He removed Osric's halter and released the horse into the pasture before picking up the saddle and stalking off toward the barn.
"What's his problem?" Cearo asked Helm, taking the bridle he was holding out to her.
"He can't keep his mouth shut," Helm said offhandedly as he removed Sherwyn's bridle.
"So what'd he say this time?"
Helm smiled with what looked like a trace of sympathy for Aelfrid. "The wrong thing in front of the wrong people."
"Such as Father?"
"Among others." Cearo cringed, knowing full well what saying the wrong thing in front of Algar could mean.
"I hope for his sake it's nothing he'll get the strap for. But what's the big deal about you telling me?" She leaned against Sherwyn next to Helm. "Tell me. It must be good if he's so worried about you telling."
Helm didn't say anything until after he'd put Sherwyn to pasture and taken the saddle back from Cearo and put an arm around her shoulder. "I was only teasing him about telling you." Cearo started to proteset but Helm cut her off. "You'll find out soon enough."
"Why won't you tell me?"
"Because, brat" he pulled the tie off the end of her braid "Father doesn't need to know Elfhild's brother won't be with us tonight." The wind pulled Cearo's braid apart and blew the hair into her face.
"Did you have to do that?" she snapped iritably, pushing the hair out of her eyes and mouth with one hand, holding the other out to Helm, palm up, for the leather thong she'd tied her hair with earlier. "Thanks." She raked her hair back and quickly braided and tied off the end before the wind could push much hair back into her mouth. "Helm, please-"
He lightly tugged on her braid. "You're worse than Wilone sometimes, pestering when you can't get what you want. I need to go wash up because I'm starving and you know how Ma is about us being clean before we eat." They both laughed. "Go tell Tellan he'll answer to me if he eats all the neeps."
Drat the man, refusing to tell her! He was doing it on purpose, just to annoy her, she knew it. Brothers! Whatever it was, she doubted it was any more shocking than what she'd heard her brothers talking about many times before when they didn't know she, or some of the younger ones, were listening. She didn't believe most of it, except for the things about drinking and hangovers, but if any of the rest was even a little bit true, that would explain why Rheda kept a close watch on her and her younger brothers when they went into the village. Too bad. It sounded like a lot of fun.
Aldric and Rheda were standing not far from the door, backs to her, when Cearo drew near to the house. Their voices were carrying on the wind but were low enough she couldn't make out what they were saying, and if their voices were low like that, it had to be important. Maybe they were talking about what Aelfrid had said? If they were, she wanted to hear what they were saying, but if she were caught listening they'd flay her alive. Last time, she couldn't sit down for two days. "Helm will be right in," she called. As she expected, they stopped talking "Rheda, what needs to be done?"
Rheda startled and spun around. "You startled me!"
"Sorry. Didn't mean to," she said when she reached Rheda. "I could say nothing next time and sneak right up on you if you'd like."
Rheda smiled wryly. "No, thank you. There's nothing left to be done except eat, and we're waiting on Helm." She looked pensive for a moment. "Did Helm say anything to you about last night?"
Cearo sighed. "No, unfortunately. He was teasing like he was going to but now he won't. Why?"
Rheda's expression relaxed. "Just curious. Would you mind going and telling Tellan it's time to eat? He's with Wilone near the creek."
For a moment, she wondered crossly why Rheda couldn't do it herself, but she pushed it aside quickly. Rheda looked ready to drop where she stood. "Sure. No problem." She'd ask Tellan what Aelfrid had said. Maybe he knew.