Stormrider

Chapter 6: The Spear Goes South

But Eomund railed against this saying, “Do not sacrifice thy greatest and last heirloom to these craven.  I cannot allow it.  I will offer myself to them; for it is I that have dealt shamefully this day.  I will go before the chieftain of this village and let him do justice upon me.”

“Nay,” said Beomund, “for tempers are yet hot.  You will remain here.  I will go before the chieftain and plead our case.  and we will attend to whatever ruling he passes down.  Likely, it shall be the spear as weregild.”

Thus it was that Beomund departed the inn and went with Jorvy before the chief of the village and judgement was given.

He returned later that evening as the sun set red over the sea, so that it seemed that the waters had turned to blood.  Going to the stable, Beomund found his son there tending Lithos.  Eomund had a heavy look and he was greatly careworn, for he had thought and puzzled much while his father was away.  Lithos, naying, peeked his head up at the sight of Beomund, and Eomund lifted his face to look upon his father, but he could not meet his gaze, for he was much ashamed.

“The horse will be returned to Jorvy,” said Beomund.

“And what say they of Ruk slain?  Will they demand weregild?” asked Eomund?

“Yea, the chieftain has ruled in favor of weregild.  I reckon Jorvy means to get what he may from us.  They held no great love for Ruk, for he was not their kin, but he was in their charge nonetheless.  And Jorvy is a petty man, prone to greed.  But he is not a man of malice or ill action.  Be grateful for that much, for he would have come for his revenge by now if he were.  Nay, Jorvy thinks of what he might gain materially through this.  And we have naught to give him save Gramgeir.”

“Father!” Eomund blurted, “You cannot relinquish the spear!  It is the only remaining heirloom of our lineage.  All our honor rests in it.”

“Honor?!  A man’s honor lies in what he does and how he carries himself!  I should think I had learned you that much, but perhaps I am mistaken.”

Beomund’s words stung Eomund like a blow, and he turned his head from his father.

“I know I have shamed our family, father.  For that, I am sore repentant.  I meant no harm to that man, only mercy toward the beast.”

“Yay, I know thy heart in this matter.  But justice must be tempered with reason.”

Eomund thought upon these words and after a time spoke, “Father, I must flee from here.  I will not have you relinquish the spear on my account.  I will not be the last undoing of our house.  Give the spear to me.  Let me take it and win with it weregild for recompense of Ruk slain.  I will return again, and repay the weregild, I will win my fortune abroad.  The spear will not go as weregild, but be for the winning of it!”

Beomund rejected this and told Eomund to leave the matter be.

“In the morning, the spear will go to Jorvy, and that will be the end of it.”

With that, Beomund returned to the inn and retired for the evening.  But Eomund remained in the stables for a time, weighing unseen measures in his mind.

The next morning Beomund and Hildora awoke to find Eomund gone, along with Lithos and Gramgeir/Rauthar.

In the dead of night, Eomund had slipped away.  Taking the spear and a scant few provisions, he rode away with Lithos.  They stole away through the north gate of the pasture, well away from the eyes of Mekle the porter, who, in all likeliness, had fallen to sleep at that time.

He rode east for a time until the lights of Fothmorn became dim, then reaching the edge of the Ridderwold, he cut south until he came to the Road.  This, he took into the brush that had grown up in place of the ruined forrest.  Here he slowed Lithos to a trot, for the way was dark and much overgrown.  Men still traveled this road in trade, but it had been less worn now that no folk called the Ridderwold home.