Taethowen (Private)
Aldburg to Anorien, via the Great West Road
Taethowen rode away from the Aldburg the next morning as soon as it was light enough to do so. The mess hall in the barracks served food well before dawn, and so she'd managed a quick breakfast, making sure to leave a little coin to cover her costs since she wasn't actually there on Cavalry business.
Though there were still plenty of warm days ahead, the nights and early mornings were starting to have a chill to the air heralding the imminent onset of autumn. Gefyrst seemed to thrive in the coolness, though, eagerly stamping her hooves and pulling at the bit in her mouth as she snorted. Even in her melancholy, Taeth couldn't help but chuckle, and gave the mare her head.
Taeth was relieved when the day passed quickly as she paced Gefyrst and let the scenery slide by around them. Her heart felt numb and her mind was weary, so it was easy to keep focused on one thing rather than her thoughts flittering about of their own volition. It had been a very long time since she rode a horse this intensely, as well, and the ache of being saddle sore was also a welcome distraction.
It was only mid-afternoon when they passed the village of SwiÞheorte. Taeth had been unsure if she would stop there or a little further down the road, but Gefyrst seemed eager to press on, so on they went. In the distance, on the southern side of the road closer to the mountains, Taeth could just glimpse the buildings that made up the SwiÞám Range estate. She couldn't recall, though, if she'd ever met the family there. It was just distant enough from her own estate that it was possible, but not likely.
The sun was still well above the horizon when she saw the next village, SwiÞhanda, on the horizon. "Whoa, girl," she spoke softly to Gefyrst, who seemed annoyed at the sudden decrease in speed. Even if there was still another hour or two of sufficient daylight for traveling left, it would be best to stop here. As far as she could recall, there were no more towns or villages between here and the border into Anorien.
"You've done well, Gefyrst," Taeth leaned over to whisper to the mare, patting her neck affectionately. "We've tomorrow and more still head, too, so let's rest for the night."
When they reached the road leading into the village, Taeth dismounted and led Gefyrst in on foot. The people seemed friendly enough, any who caught her eye smiled or nodded politely, and when the location of the inn wasn't obvious right away, it was simple enough to have someone point her in the right direction.
Once there, Taeth was relieved to see that it was a small, humble place. Not like she'd heard the Cornerstone Inn was...
No, Taeth, she wrested her thoughts away from that subject.
Don't go there.
After hitching Gefyrst to the post outside, Taeth stepped into the inn. The main room was not large, and the place was not busy. This wasn't exactly the time of year for travelers to be hurrying back and forth--that was more at the peak of summer--and the only reason she might not be able to get a private room was if the inn simply didn't have any, rather than them being full up.
To her relief, they did have a private room, and it was available. She ordered a bath to be drawn up as well, ordered a private dinner, and paid for a stall in the stable, and went to tend to Gefyrst.
The first two nights she'd fumbled as she removed Gefyrst's tack and groomed the mare. It had been so long since she'd been responsible for the daily care of a horse that she'd apparently begun to forget steps, especially as she'd had the mare boarded in Edoras while she was settling into her Marshal duties. But now, the habits and muscle memory were beginning to return, and she fell into an easy rhythm as she unsaddled and combed and cleaned the mare.
The sun was dipping below the horizon when she left the stable, Gefyrst secured and fed, and returned to the inn with her bags. The innkeeper led her first to her room, where she left her things behind and retrieved her comb and a fresh gown for after washing, and then was led to the bathing room.
"Please take your time," the innkeeper stated. "No one else has requested a bath this evening, so there's no rush."
"Thank you," Taeth nodded, eagerly eyeing the long wooden tub with steam wafting off the water's surface. "Would it be possible to have my food left in my room? And... does the cook have any sort of tea that's good for helping one sleep?"
"Of course, the food will be waiting for you there," the innkeeper answered, "and I'll speak with the cook about the tea."
"Thank you," Taeth said again, and then she was left alone, locking the door behind the innkeeper.
The room was fairly small, lit by two lamps mounted on the walls with mirrors behind them to spread the light, the tub taking up most of the floor space. There was still room for a small table and a bench near the door, though, and a folded towel sat on top of the table.
Left alone with her own thoughts once more, but this time without distractions except for caring for her own self, Taeth found her hands trembling as she fought to maintain control of her thoughts. She sat, wincing at the ache in her legs and hips that was dull compared to the ache in her heart, slipped off her boots and stockings, and found herself assaulted with the memory of
him doing the same. She bit her lip, and shoved the items aside as she stood. She forced her mind to blankness as she stripped off the rest of her garments and--with probably more force then necessary--unbraided her hair and ran the comb through her wind-tangled locks.
She managed to keep her mind blank and the tears at bay until she stepped into the tub. The heat of the water against her sore muscles too vividly echoed the burning grief that she kept trying to push back. For several long moments, she sat in the water, clenched fist to her mouth as she but her knuckles to muffle her sobs.
Taeth hated grief. She remembered enough of it from when her father died to know that she simply had to let the feelings do their thing and then pass on, but she hated being in the moment of it. So much.
Equally as heavy on her as the grief was the
guilt. Guilt for missing her lover when her family was
dead. Guilt for not returning to the Mark sooner, and perhaps they may not have been dead at all. Guilt for not visiting them more when she had been here, for not having any memories of her brother and sister as the near-adults they must have been when they passed, and only possessing a smattering of memories from when they were young, still but children.
Guilt for letting her stepfather drive a wedge between her and her mother to the point they barely wrote each other, let alone talked.
Eventually, though, her anguish settled enough that she could drop her hand from her mouth. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead against them for a few minutes, letting the steam from the bath soothe her aching head. Then she took a deep breath, and leaned back to let herself sink under the water, until only warmth surrounded her, and only her hearbeat echoed in her ears.
She stayed there until her lungs burned for air.
~~~
Despite the tea the cook had found, and Taeth could smell the herbs in it that were definitely for sleeping and definitely not to aid the flavor of it, her night was fitful and restless. Dawn came both too soon and not quickly enough, and she begged a just some bread and cheese off the cook--they were always up before dawn, at an inn, it seemed--before she headed out to the stables to prepare Gefyrst for the next leg of the journey.
The wind was brisker that day, and Taeth wondered if she should have brought a heavier cloak. Fortunately, by midday the air had warmed with the sunlight, but she wondered how much cooler the night would be than before. She'd originally hoped to cross into Anorien and stay the night there, but perhaps she should beg a spot at the Cavalry outpost just this side of the border for the night instead.
She pressed Gefyrst a little harder that day than the others. The stretch between SwiÞhanda and the border was the longest one yet, but still short enough that it could be done in a day, now that she had a better idea of what Gefyrst was capable of.
Night was just beginning to fall when she finally caught site of the outpost, more by the light of torches around it than by the actual buildings. She'd probably ridden Gefyrst a little later into evening than she should have, but Taeth knew that they were so close she didn't want to stop and make camp elsewhere. Still at least a mile out, though, and with the light fading fast, she dismounted Gefyrst. The mare would need to cool down anyway, and it was too dark to take her at anything but a walk now.
"Who goes there?" a cry went up a while later when the sound of Gefyrst's hoofbeats reached the watchmen, just before Taeth stepped into the circle of light cast by the torches. She brought Gefyrst to a halt, and reached for her insignia.
"I am Taethowen, Second Marshal of the Mark," she said as she held out the badge. "I have personal business in Anorien, but was wondering if there was a spot here where I could stay the night."
An Æthelwigend stepped forward then, inspected her rank insignia without taking it from her, and nodded. "Certainly, Marshal," he spoke. "We don't have any private bunks though. There are a couple other female Cavalry in a barrack's room though, if that would be satisfactory."
"More than," Taeth nodded, then gestured back at the mare. "Please, where might I put Gefyrst for the night?"
"There's a paddock this way," the Æthelwigend led her around through the small outlying buildings that made up the outpost. The paddock lay in the center of them, and she could see several horses housed there for the night. "Where are you heading in Anorien?"
"The Cornerstone Inn," she answered quietly as began to remove her bags from Gefyrst.
The Æthelwigend was silent for a moment. "Did you lose family there?"
"Aye."
"I'm very sorry, ma'am," he replied, clearing his throat. "I'll uh... see what's left, food-wise, in the mess, for you."
"Thank you."
(
continues here)