Flare in the Darkness: Holwena Talnrë of Rothalon

Chapter Eleven: Visitors Expected and Unexpected

Holwena touched her heel into the brown mare's side, pulling her curious nose away from the waving new hay by the roadside. Spring had come early, and hot, and the humid breeze brushing across her face was unpleasant compared to the usual keen, free winds of Rothalon.

Ahead of her rode the two guards, her heralds as she passed through the countryside of the north-east overseeing the state of villages and farmland; behind her followed the retinue. A break came in the greening fields, a squat cottage on their left, and another, and then houses lined the crooked road on both sides. They rode toward the square as the townsfolk gathered around them in curiosity.

They all looked on Holwena with eagerness, with adoration; and though she was long accustomed to it, it still touched her that her people harboured such gratitude toward her. She willingly dismounted and let them come near.

Women came forward, wanting her to touch their children, and she laid her hand on the small heads and they drew back slowly, unwilling to leave her presence. Holwena was not discomfited by such attitude; she understood it. To them she was an emblem, a sign of Rothalon's strength and freedom. It was not her they were enamoured of so much as those things she stood for in their eyes – even as the towers of Serndol filled her with an excitement and confidence when she saw them still standing tall and proud on the shores of Sern Hator...

She was thinking on those things still as they ended their circuit that evening and came back to the city shining with the amber light of sunset, and the river like gold across the plain.

"Talnrë," said Lord Sernhir at her side as they rode into the courtyard. "In about a month there will be a party coming from Galtha Relua in the north, to apprise us of the progress in the building of the Ral-Phar."

"That is well," said Holwena with a satisfied sigh, accepting his hand to step down from the horse. "We have heard nothing of how that fares all winter. And will Lord Galdeol be among them?"

"I do not doubt it, my lady," he answered.

A little smile broke the quiet of Holwena's face. Galdeol she had not seen since the ugthoda's retreat.

A dim form was striding across the courtyard to them. Riharis always met her after her absences about the kingdom, though they rarely exchanged more greeting than a nod. She gave him one now and led her mare towards the stables, not waiting to see the brooding, longing look in his eyes. He had not asked her since that night – she did not think he ever would... but the pith of that conversation was still between them, a quiet, cold knowledge, for in a passive sense he had refused to accept it. It was one of so many points in which he was unlike everything she was accustomed to.

He was not solemn and contemplative like Haldorin, or merry and high-spirited like Maera and Gleda. He was merely awkward, a dull companion without interest in intellectual discussion, short-tempered and rough-mannered. She doubted that he even loved her, truly loved her, though maybe he thought he did. And that he wanted her love, but he neither strived for it nor abandoned hope to have it vexed her most of all.

She took a slow breath to still her rapid heart and thoughts; to be so upset felt unfamiliar, disturbing. She mastered the emotion firmly, subduing it beneath calming thought, and made her way out of the stable to the keep.

"Holwena Talnrë."

The familiar deep voice made her start in the hall. She turned slowly to face Lord Roharon, apprehension skimming under her careful poise when she recalled how they had parted.

"Lord Roharon – you have returned from Hurasir?"

"As you see, my lady."

The tension grew between them.