[@burnski]
"It'll do you well to answer me again." Banweald asserted, voice stern and deep. He straightened his shoulders as he let the goblet rest again on the table; his eyes never waivered.
It's certainly true that war changes everyone involved; Banweald believed he was better off for it all. He was a free peasant as a youth, unremarkable but for the sword in his hand. A humble farmer's life, feeding hogs and sowing hard earth, was nothing he desired. Banweald hungered for much, much more; riches and concubines, to be certain, but also for able and loyal men at the ready.
Banweald saved his sword-brother because he had nothing to lose and the life of a dear friend on the line... but now, when his dear ally was a weakened subject? What was a lord to do for Alfred, and for the populace in his charge?
Banweald's eyes failed to soften. "My brother, I've broken my rings for you before, and I'll do so again without hesitation. But I cannot, will not, break the rings of my soldiers or the rings of my citizens in fondness for you." He said, voice cracking just slightly at the last word. "You serve me with nothing but loyalty and pride, but the man I stand before now is quite unlike he whos sword arm matched mine."
He paused, searching Alfred's face with uncharacteristic earnesty for signs of life. "If I send you forth to Northumbria, how am I to believe your charge won't run headlong into an ambush like a hogs to the sea?"[hr][@Simple Unicycle]
Wilmot nodded with attempted courtesy. "I've not heard your names, sir, but I'm honored to be accompanied by a lord of such status." She said, monotone yet timid. Her eyes brightened as a flash of red fabric on horseback came down the way. "Ah, that may be my master!"
The crimson figure approached unhurried, keeping a steady eye on the pair as his steed plodded along. Sufficiently close, the good judge dismounted and took a few slow steps toward as soft thunderclaps rattled miles away. Wilmot beamed at the gaunt figure clothed in black and red, but said nothing. Finally, the man spoke:
"What business does a wanderer have with a thrall?"[hr][@bloonewb]"His estate is on the river; we can come back for the boat when the rain slows. It's a little walk up the road from here." Mildemaer commented. With an offhand thought, she pulled a linen cloth off of her belt and tossed it to her friend, "To cover your head; no use for me." She tucked a knot behind her ear as slow, heavy drops began to pound away at the dirt. She stooped to pick up her hound as they started towards the estate.