Lore Masters in Arms – Preface

When Ceodda was very young, there was a big celebration in store, one that promised a huge feast and much merry-making.  Ceodda’s Great Grandfather was turning one hundred and her family travelled the long road from

Rohan to Gondor to attend.  Yet amid all the excitement and festivities of the day, Ceodda could remember two things: huge snails and her cousin looking at her with disdain.

The snails were remarkable and better yet, were the local boys racing them.  She loved joining in with this play and was given a snail to keep by a local lad.  Ceodda decided that she was going to keep him forever until her father explained that the snail would be happier eating the leaves he was accustomed to and that going on such a long trip to their home would, probably, end in his death.

Ceodda glanced up to see a taller girl, whom she learned was her cousin, Remana, watching her.  Unaware that her cousin was looking upon her as uncouth and dirty, Ceodda shrieked in glee as her snail won the latest race.

It was unknown to Ceodda that Remana, being the daughter of Lemana, Keeper of the Texts, had grown up learning how to read and write and had no interest in the dirt or snails or for that matter, boys.  Ceodda everything Remana was not and was more intent on exploring, laughing, playing the games with the other children and having all these new sights to see.

The years did pass and the two young girls grew into young ladies and never gave much thought to each other.  They were both busy in their respective lives, Ceodda with the rural chores of farming and Remana in the finer arts of reading and writing.

As they grew, they developed their own views on the world.  Remana, believing the tales she had read, believed in the weakness of men, their willingness to run in the sight of danger.  Ceodda, hearing tales from her father tended to believe that men were strong hearted and strong willed.  They lived and died for what they believed in.  It was to be Remana’s life though which would change dramatically.

When Remana was older, a rider came to the door.  Her mother answered almost immediately and Remana, after a minute or two, heard mother’s cries, “NO!” before she broke down sobbing uncontrollably.

Remana rushed to her side and asked, “Mother, what is it?”

The next few hours passed in a haze and over the coming days, Remana went through the motions of greeting family members and making them hot drinks or pouring wine and ale without really thinking anything at all.

It was at this time when Ceodda met Remana again.  In her fourteenth year, she was much taller, with long flowing copper hair; not quite the curb urchin she appeared in the visit before.  Arriving with her parents, she was looking dishevelled after the long journey from Rohan.  Seeing Remana’s drawn complexion however, made her take pity on her cousin and took over the hostess duties, telling Remana to sit and rest for a minute.  Glad of the respite, Remana, once seated, knew not what to do.  Her father’s body had been entombed two days earlier and the people left were ones expecting something from his estate.  Everyone was discussing her father, his past as a youth or a young man but, Remana didn’t want to talk about her father.

Ceodda brought her a drink and sat beside her.

“Thank you, ” Remana said.  “I remember you.  You were the girl who was playing with the boys and snails at great grandfather’s party.”

“Yes,” Ceodda offered in response.  “I have grown a bit since then I fear.”

“Why be afraid of that.  That is normal.  I am afraid of this.” Remana replied.

“Of this?” questioned Ceodda, not quite understanding.

“Yes.  Of all these friends and relatives talking about my father as if he has done nothing wrong.”  Remana replied.

“But he has done nothing wrong.”  replied Ceodda.

“Stop!” Remana cried out and stood up. “How can you all talk of father as if he was the King of Gondor.  He isn’t!  He has, had, no consideration for his family.

You talk of an honourable man, but where is the honour in dying and leaving his family alone?  You talk of him being happy now.  Was he not happy before when he could hold his family in his arms and know that they loved him?  How is any of this right and just?  How could he just leave us like this?”

With this, unable to bear any more, Remana rushed outside, running to the apple tree in the field beside their house.  Leaning her head on her arms against the rough trunk, she cried.

Remana now cried the tears that she had not allowed to flow since the news of her father’s death.  Although she had been strong for her mother’s sake, now Remana cried for all that she had lost and all that would now never be.  Her tears flowed for the loss of her father’s love, his laughter, his life.

Kneeling beside her, Ceodda put her arm around Remana’s shoulders and with her free hand, handed her a handkerchief.  No words were spoken; there didn’t need to be.

An invisible bond formed at that moment between the two girls, and it would develop and strengthen throughout the years, for it was soon after this that Ceodda entrusted her cousin with the knowledge that she wanted to study texts and improve her reading skills.  Remana more than happy to oblige began reading her stories, written in leather bound volumes, about kings, elves, princes and great warriors; some wonderful tales full of courage and sadness, heroes and defeats.
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The reflection in the mirror did not show  the young woman she was, but a withered old lady; leathery skin and long grey hair.  The gold belt which hung loosely around Remana’s hips was an heirloom given to her by her mother, Lemana, for this special day.  Gold circles linked together and lay across the soft material her white dress which flowed with her every movement.

She was alone in this moment, this moment when she realised that her youth, her spirit were about to be enslaved to an eternity of monotonous boredom.  Soon, she would be shackled, either real or imagined, to a man, if she would call him that; a man whom she did not love, did not care for, dare she even say, she did not like him in the least.

The soon to be husband was waiting patiently for her outside on the wooden dais.  In only a few, short minutes more, they would be wed and she would leave the comfort of her home and move to his.  He was a man of wealth; he was a man of the world, but he was old and fat.  His effeminate features and balding head were anything but pleasing to the eye.  Remana believed his stomach entered the room ten whole minutes before the rest of him appeared.  When he sat at a table, he didn’t really need a table as he could rest his plate on his stomach.  Why should she be shackled to such a husband?  He was not good looking by any stretch of her imagination and all she could think of was how she would  waste away, hidden behind closed doors.  She would never know adventure, the world or love.

Hearing a soft knock upon the door, Remana turned.

“It is almost time dear one.  Shall I come and help you?” came her mother’s voice through the wood.

“No mother.  Please wait for me by the door outside.  I shan’t be much longer.” Remana replied fearful that she would never escape.  Yes, her mother believed this a good match for her.  Remana was nearing the age considered

to be almost too old for a good marriage.  She had to obey her mother who had done everything for her since her father’s death, not once complaining. She had to marry this man or forever be “left on the shelf”.

Light shone through the window on the wall opposite the door.  It was a double window with ornate glass and opened outwards.  With no thought in her head she picked up her skirt and walked towards it.  Outside in the near

distance was a green field.  Remana could see flowers covering it like a white linen sheet, and almost immediately longed to be barefoot in that field.  She longed to feel the grass beneath her feet and the wind rush past her ears and caress her face as she ran.  Remana’s heart longed to be young and free.

Without knowing exactly how it happened, but knowing why, that is exactly where Remana found herself.  In what seemed no time at all, she was across the field and when she turned back, the room where she once was, was only a distant memory.  Perspiration began to trickle from her forehead.  Was it from physical exertion or was it from the fear of what she had just done?

“Run!” was the only word she heard and that is what she did.  Not towards her wedding but further away where she would disappear, she knew that.  Remana could not face her mother after this “flight of fancy”, for she knew her mother would call it that.  Shame had now been brought down upon her mother and she knew that she now must fly.

She ran home and quickly changed her clothes.  After packing some food in a cloth, Remana took all the money she had and some more that she dared take from her mother’s purse hidden under some clothes in the dresser draw.  To make her escape complete, Remana knew she would have to change her appearance.  Before heading out, she found some scissors and as she stood before a mirror, she cut her long hair shorter, much shorter, so that instead of being beyond her waist, it was now below her shoulder with a fringe.
——————————————————————————–

As the wind whistled outside, Ceodda could hear the usual sounds while she sat on a stool in the kitchen of her family’s farm house.  A stew was simmering on the stove and wafts of chicken and vegetable aromas were drifting through the small thatched property that she, and her parents, called home.

Once she unfolded the letter again, she smoothed it upon her knee with the palm of her hand.  Being able to read quite well now, Ceodda remembered it had taken some effort to learn to master the skill.  Longer words still baffled her and she would try and gauge the meaning through the words before, and after, the one she was struggling with.

This letter however gave her no such problems. Simply put it read –

“Meet a week today, Mead House at Snowbourn.  Bring horses, light baggage and stores – we’re going.  Remana”

It would have been easy to refuse, tell her parents what her cousin was planning and live quietly in peace, but she felt change was fast approaching .  It had begun slowly, almost unnoticed but now decisions had to be made for, in the late summer, not so many months away, her family would be leaving the farm where she had grown up.  Moving into her Grandmother’s house, west, nearer the larger cities of her people was not something she was particularly looking forward to.

Startled from her musings, she heard sounds of voices and horses.  One voice was clearly that of her mother.  How it had begun to grate on her ears in recent times.  Another, a man’s voice, but not her father’s.  At once she knew the man that belonged to the voice and as she glanced up,  Wulffric  came through the door after her mother.

With the letter hidden within her apron pockets, Ceodda welcomed her guest with a small curtsy, in deference to his standing in the community and then nodded to her mother as she began a tirade of questions about supper and chores all to be completed before sundown.
“You look pretty this evening Ceodda.” Wulffric said turning in her direction.

Ceodda’s responses to Wulffric’s conversation were polite but stilted, “Thank you, My Lord”

“Please refrain from using that title this evening, we are all friends together, are we not Ceodda?” smiled Wulffric.

Uncomfortable in his company, Ceodda always felt as if Wulffric stared at her just a little too intensely.  It made her nervous  being under the scrutiny of this man. Ceodda bobbed a small but apologetic second curtsy, then hurried off to attend the meal preparations.

Thankfully, just now he was paying a little more attention to her mother, attempting to gain her good graces. But when she glanced up a moment after, she found him staring at her again, a slight smile bordering his lips, as his eyes followed her every move. The colour rose to her cheeks as she blushed crimson and she broke the uncomfortable atmosphere of that glance by speaking aloud.
“Mother are we to wait for father before setting down to eat this evening?”

“Set for four Ceodda!” Responded her mother… and to their guest she added, “Ceodda just about runs this house single handed now.  She made the stew we are about to eat and also the bread she freshly baked this morning.  Didn’t you dear?”

Nodding her reply, Ceodda felt even more uncomfortable now that the conversation turned to how capable she was at keeping house or tending the chickens etc.  With her mother’s intentions clear, Ceodda didn’t much like the idea at all.

“Lufwen had a baby boy don’t you know Wulffric?, as healthy as a wee oxen!”

Ceodda cringed further when talk turned to babies.  She would rather go riding than knit booties, but her mother always insisted she knit or sew something.  After wrapping a  a small jacket for the new baby, Ceodda had escaped going to visit when she pointed out that if both her and her mother, Ceolfede, went visiting, the house and chores would be neglected.

“Shall we wait for Father?” Ceodda asked when the hour for eating was rapidly passing.

“No,” replied her mother.  “It would be rude to keep our guest waiting! I am sure your father would not wish to have us eat cold broth.”

Ceodda  wasn’t worried about her father, but she would have liked him to be there.  Secretly, she knew her father wasn’t fond of this guest and he also would not be pleased with her mother’s matchmaking endeavours.  Father and daughter  shared a similar spirit and liked similar things.

“Ceodda, do you remember the time you and your Father went riding last autumn and lost all track of time? You stayed by the river for soo long and got terrible sunburn. Learning to read, weren’t you!  An amazing skill to possess, wouldn’t you agree, Wulffric?” came Ceolfede’s words, but before Wulffric could answer, went on.   “You were home very late that evening, I had to make the supper on my own and tend the animals”.

“We didn’t really notice the time mother. We spotted some deer beginning to emerge from the forest’s edge.  Father was telling me a tale about an old spotted buck he always tried, but failed to hunt.  Father so loves to tell tales and I, I love listening to them.  Do you know any tales Wulffric?” Ceodda asked.
“Er, no, not really.” Wulffric replied.

“I like making up stories and telling them to Father.  He likes to listen to my silly notions. I made a tale up about a Red Fox.  Do you like animals, Wulffric?” she pressed on.

“I love to hunt.” Wulffric replied. “Providing food for my family, furs for the cold, A man that cannot provide for his wife and children is no man at all”.

“Marvellous!” interjected her mother “Now eat up before your meal is cold!”

As Ceodda went through the motions of serving her guest and eating stew, her mind took her back to her friend and kin who taught her to read her first words and to the words in the letter “One Week!”

The evening had drawn on and the sun was setting low in the sky with the horizon gleaming the most beautiful pinks and reds.

“Thank you for a wonderful stew.  It was very filling and tasty.”  Wulffric said to Ceodda as he prepared to leave

“You’re welcome.” Ceodda replied indifferently.  “I thank you for your compliment, but it was a simple meal.”

Ceodda’s mother gave her a cursory glare and then turned to Wulffric, “Please come again, won’t you Wulffric?”

“I would be delighted.” came his response, a little too quickly for Ceodda’s liking.

“Perhaps this time next week then?” her mother pressed home the invitation.

Promising to call again in a week Wulffric bowed to the women, mounted his steed and rode away to the outpost that he had charge of.

“Wulffric is such a wonderful man, don’t you think Ceo?” her mother said after his departure.

“Mother! You seem so keen to have me married and away, but he is such a bold, brash man.   I do not like him!”  Ceodda replied.

“Not like him?” was the incredulous response her mother gave before expanding further on it.  “You are barely seventeen years of age, what would you know about anything?”

“Oh Mother! I wish you wouldn’t be so blatant, it’s embarrassing!” Ceodda replied, though her voice was a bit more distant.  She was now thinking about her long time friend and neighbour, the son to the family who farmed the land close to theirs, preferring him to be eating her broth and paying her compliments.

“Wulffric is going to make some young lady a very fine catch.  He is strong, brave and loyal.  He has a title, good standing and money.  Enough to keep his wife very comfortable and to enjoy some of the finer things to be had in this world.”  her mother was trying to get Ceodda involved.

“If you say so, Mother.” she said as she tidied the dinner things away and prepared a meal of what was left for her father, including cutting him a large wedge of the bread she had baked that morning.
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Remana donned a hooded cloak and some less fashionable clothes to help disguise herself.  She had found herself fortunate that her friend, Brin, a trader from the north was preparing to leave and head towards Snowbourn.  He was not an exceptionally well mannered man and when she told him of her plight, he found it quite amusing.  Fearing that he would not help her, Remana turned and began to walk off when she heard him call after her.

“Hail there young lady, are you walking to Snowbourn then?” he asked and she stopped and turned towards him.

“How else do you suggest sir?” she replied to his question with a question.

“Well as the road is no place for a lady, especially alone, I would suggest you hop up onto that wagon there.”  Brin answered with a smile.

Remana rushed up to him and gave him a sincere hug.  He blushed and as he pulled her off him, said, “Alright young lady.  I have no time for this nonsense.  I must be off immediately.”

And so Remana found herself upon a wagon heading for Snowbourn.  It was a long trip and with not a lot of conversation to be had with Brin, an uneducated man, she found herself often alone in her thoughts.

Sitting upon the wagon as it headed to Snowbourn, Remana was trying to write a note to her cousin as neatly as possible.  It was quite a short note and given to a trader in the next village to take to her on his journey to through Rohan.

Fortunately, Remana had forsight enough to pack a book or two with her.  She read of the stories of men and elves; she had read about the Kings of the North, how the men of the North were weak and cowards and hence lost the war.

She had read many poems as well from an early age which encouraged her to begin to write her own.  She chuckled quite unexpectedly and Brin turned to her and asked, “What has tickled your fancy, my young lady?”

“Oh, nothing really.” Remana replied before going on. “I just remembered this silly little poem I wrote when I was a young girl.”

“Let us hear it then,” Brin said.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.  It really is quite silly.  You will only laugh at the words of a very childish young girl,” Remana answered.

“Come on then, I promise I won’t laugh.” Brin encouraged.

“Very well then, since you promised…

Sun showers and golden rays,

Moonlight twinkles through the day

Lovely thoughts of you and me

Children of humanity.

Coloured rainbows and painted skies

Stars in heavens twinkle bright

Dreams of castles in the air

Elven princesses with long, silken hair.”

Waiting for Brin to laugh, Remana faced him when he did not.

“What does it mean?” he asked, a puzzled look upon his face.

“How should I know,” she replied.  “I was only six at the time.” and with that, they both broke into laughter.
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Ceodda was too busy with her own inner dialogue and knew it was impossible to write back to Remmy as she would not be home.  It took quite some days to travel to Snowbourn and Ceodda’s only issue to be decided was, how and when to tell her father she was leaving.

Guilt rose as Ceodda knew if she told before she went, her parents would stop her; she had to be sneaky.  There was some money saved in a pouch under her mattress and she thought it enough to compensate her father for the loss of a horse, Rythea, from his stable. Ceodda would take her mount, Aethroyd, but she needed a second.  Although Rythea was quite skittish she would have to do.

As Ceodda was the more experienced rider, her belief was that Remana could ride her horse and she could ride Rhythea.  However, being deceitful, especially to her own father, was not in her nature.  She did not know how she was going to be able to say goodbye and she concluded that perhaps it would be better to set it all down in a letter.

The night was growing chillier and as Ceodda heard the sounds of a rider, she donned her shawl and rushed out to greet whom she knew would be her father.

“Father!  Thank goodness you’re home.”  she said as she held the horses reins.

Her father dismounted and as he gave her a warm embrace, he returned her greeting.  “Hail and well met young lady.  Should you not be getting ready for bed?”

“Soon Father,” she replied.

“Well be a good lass and take care of my horse.  It has been a terribly long day.” and with that he strode off towards the house and his waiting supper.

Ceodda missed finding out the reason of her father’s lateness as she was busy grooming and feeding the tired horse and upon her return to the house, she saw that her father was not in the mood for a barrage of questions. After making a warm tea, she sat by the fire drinking, waiting to see if he would utter any news.

Her father, when he spoke was grave and serious, not his usual way.

“There has been news of more orcs spotted.  They believe though that the White Hand Guard are responsible for much of the livestock going missing.  The news is, we will not be free much longer with the Shadow of yonder stretching ever further.”

“Oh goodness!” was all her mother said.  Her father stared into the flames and spoke soft and low.
“I have to go.” was all he said.

“Go?  Go where?” Ceodda questioned.

“I have made arrangements for you and your mother to go to your Grandmother’s house. It is much sooner than we had expected, but we all knew this time would come.  I am going to join the local outpost.  They are in dire need of men with steady hands and stout hearts.”

Ceodda thrown by this news of sudden separation was unable to stop herself weeping and protesting.

“You can’t go so soon, Father!”

“Now hush child.  This is best solution for everyone.” he tried to soothe her.

“I am not a child.” she protested.  “If you go, I will go! I can be of use, cooking and tending the wounded!”

“We will have none of our women folk at the outpost.  You know that.  Now be a good dutiful daughter and go with your mother.  I am counting on you to look after her and your grandmother in these hard times that are coming.”  Her father said giving her a reason she must go.

Ceodda couldn’t understand how all had been arranged so quickly without her knowledge or her consent and the farm and livestock sold!

———————————————————————

Remana sat in a room in a small Snowbourn house .  She was tired from her journey and was now awaiting the arrival of her cousin.  Remana knew her cousin would come.  They had become close friends over the years and their constant correspondence was a testament to that.

As Remana gazed into the flames within the hearth of the fireplace, thoughts of her cousin came to mind and all they had become to each other throughout the years.

“Ceodda will come.”  Remana whispered into the night.

Remana did not know of Ceodda’s predicament nor was she aware of events her actions would cause, but she was certain that her life now was about to begin and that she was prepared.

Whilst Remana was being safe within the walls of the humble house, Ceodda was making the treacherous journey alone to Snowbourn.  Her courage, a testament for the love she held for her cousin and also to the discontent of her home life.

Arriving in Snowbourn, tired, dirty and hungry, she knew that her cousin would be waiting anxiously.  After she stabled the horses, she began to walk the path away from the stable, pausing to listen to three men standing with horses near the stable.

“Well if we have to be somewhere, this is as good a place as any.” she heard one say.

“Yeah, but let us hope our business will soon be done.  I miss the comfort of my wife.” replied another.

Ceodda continued on with thoughts of hot food in her head when a stranger, grabbed her by the arm.

“Found you!” the stranger said triumphantly.

Ceodda turned around and looked into the stranger’s face, her panic beginning to show.