As we all gathered together and Aelwyn came slinking back to join us we were left with a lot of questions. Foremost of them was what were we to do with the abandoned baby- we were all agreed that it was wrong to leave it for our attackers to come for once again. I was also wondering why I always came out of things in far worse shape than anyone else. There was one thing I did know, however, and that was that I must tell the Reeve of what had occurred - I couldn’t understand why the others seemed to put more weight in the life of this bastard child than in the lives of our fellow villagers who were our friends and families. With well outfitted and armed men so close, could they be safe for long? But I knew the others, Aelwyn and Berchtwald especially, wouldn’t understand, so I kept quiet of my plans to tell the Reeve.

But when we reached the village again (with Gwynaeth left alone to care for the baby, I don’t think the Daughters include caring for a baby in their training regimes) I blurted out my plan. Somehow Aelwyn and Berchtwald managed to convince me that I shouldn’t be the one to speak to the Reeve. Oh, my gullible soul! I should’ve known that they didn’t mean to tell the tale true. But I couldn’t not tell Hengist, though, especially with the potential for danger on the edge of Tiwesdaeg. He insisted that we go to tell the Reeve when I admitted to him that the others weren’t planning to tell the full story. Before the Reeve, I told him everything- almost at least, but not Aelwyn’s wild claim that the Thane was the father of the child. That was just too crazy to be believed.

The next morning, the six of us; Aelwyn, Gwynaeth, Berchtwald, Young Osric, Hengist and myself, journeyed out back to the Ogre’s Bones. From there, I followed the tracks made by the retreating warriors from the day before- even with so heavy a rain, a man carrying so much weight cannot get far without leaving marks of his passage. Eventually we entered the forest, and after some time, found a building that appeared to have been some kind of mill, once upon a time. Now, it looked a little desolate and rundown, no more evident than when we entered through the door to find an old rug falling down into a crude pit trap. At the end of the hallway there was a set of hand and toe holds in the wall that seemed to lead up the inside of the tower, while set in the floor was a heavy-looking trapdoor. Just as Gwynaeth was opening the door, a spear was cast down the shaft of the tower, swekered through her chainmail and into the flesh of her arm- it sure looked painful. Gwynaeth ducked under the trapdoor, and we didn’t see her again for awhile.

The rest of us were at something of a loss as for what we should do next - Berchtwald wanted to throw a spear or shoot an arrow up the tower shaft. I suggested to Hengist, however, that we go outside and try to shoot whoever was in the tower. We tried it, but it didn’t take long for the fellow in the tower to notice it, and taking aim, he cast his spear straight for Hengist, and struck him. Oh, how I wish I had thought to lend him my armor- it is too stiff anyway, and smells like oil- to avert situations like this. He couldn’t really talk, and fearful for his life, I dragged him inside away from the danger, and hopefully not putting him in any greater risk from the movement. But it was either that, or risk him getting another spear in his side.

Eventually, it took Gwynaeth’s return to overcome the spearman. Charging out from beneath the trapdoor, she began skittering up the inside of the tower wall, and once she was up on his platform, began to trade blows with our attacker. If it wasn’t for Berchtwald taking her leave, and balancing precariously on the inside of the wall and swinging at the man’s legs with the spear, even Gwynaeth may have fallen. I don’t know the details of what occurred up there, but the next thing I knew, the warrior fell with a thud on the grass outside. As quickly as I could, I bounded out there, sat myself down in his chest and put my saex to his neck, demanding that he give his word to cease attacking us before I’d let him up.