“We are all free men, the land gifted to us by the gnomes who once dwelt here. They went back to their underground city when my grandfather was a boy, and we have worked these lands, tilling, building, raising our flocks and children. Kederic arrived some…what? Ten years now, Jileen?”

“Aye,” Jileen said as she refilled Ardal’s mug.

“He had warriors, a fair size herd of cattle and all manner of treasure from fighting across the water. Made himself known to Brogan and offered his protection. Protection we did not need, what with Faabar here. Brogan said as much, but he welcomed Kederic to these lands as was his way. We fostered his cattle while he built his fortress not twenty miles from here. Gifted us with a good smithy within a year.”

“This place, too. And the stables,” Jileen added.

Ardal nodded. “He was generous and we repaid his kindness with our own. Wool, candles, grain. Welcomed he and his men to our festivals, shared what we had, traded with the warriors. Some of our daughters are now their wives. But relations between the Winetongue and Brogan cooled after the first year or so. Both men have…had honor in them, but pride as well. Soon it was all land rights and whether we were Kederic’s tenants or he ours. Kederic calls us bondsmen and Brogan took a sour view of that quick enough. But having his warriors here made Kederic bold, pressing Brogan into acknowledging him as lord of these lands. Wants to be a right and proper Thegn, like they have in Sasana and Middangeard, rule by his own hand. Brogan refused and the warriors were called back.”

“And Brogan is dead soon after?” Padric asked.

“Same day,” Ardal said gravely. “But don’t let your mind run with suspicions. Weren’t Kederic that did for Brogan. Those two known each other ten years and quarreled for all but one of them. Kederic is a warrior and killed plenty of men in battle, but murder is not in the man. No. The husk is at the end of that foul doing.”

“Slouch Hat.” Jileen all but whispered the name, her eyes on the serving table.

“Aye,” Brogan snarled. “Saw his chance for freedom and took it. I’d stake my daughters on it. Faabar laid up and the warriors gone, none to stop him. Kederic will find him though. Set riders and that huntsman of his on the trail. They’ll run that husk down and then we’ll get justice for a good man.” Ardal pushed himself to his feet and clapped Padric on the back companionably. “Welcome to Hog’s Wallow, lad. Wish it were in happier times. Here’s to Brogan!” He threw back his cup, draining it down and with that he turned, before lumbering over to join the revels. Jileen stayed behind the serving table clutching the flagon and staring sadly at nothing.