text: You raise your hand and silence falls like a blanket over the crowd of people. Your eyes flick from face, some meet your gaze, others stare at their feet.
  
  
  "We have been through hell, all of us. You have all lost people to the fyrd; fathers, brothers, sons. I understand your pain. But know this; they died with me, beside me, because we are the north! We live, we fight, and we die together! They say a warrior is only as strong as the shield held by his neighbor, they say this because it is the united who are strong, and we are the united!"
  
  
  Your escort applauds, rattling swords on shields and roaring.
  
  
  Some of the villagers clap nervously, but others remain still; one, a young woman with a grim face raises her hand.                                                                                                                            "Why was the fyrd so undersupplied? Why was it not provided with shields?"                                          One of your men barks at her to be silent, but she snarls back, tears bead her eyes                            "I lost my husband and my son! Don't you dare tell me to be silent!"                                               She stabs her finger at you, sobbing                                                                                            "Answer me! Answer me!"                                                                                                              One of your men reaches for his sword, but you wave him off. Looking the determined young woman in the eye, you give her an answer.
  > You say "If I could have saved them, I would have"
  You sigh, an angry rush of air escapes your mouth. You lean in, and the woman recoils momentarily; mounted on your horse with gleaming steel at your waist, you look like an imposing figure. Sensing your tense emotions, Thunder bares his thick teeth, but you quiet him.
  
  
  "If I could bring your husband and son back from the dead, I would. Truly. I do feel every fyrdmen lost under my service to be a terrible tra-"
  
  
  The woman glares at you angrily, stepping forward
  
  
  "Do you think I care? Do you think I want your condolences? My son, my husban-"
  
  
  "I have lost people too!"
  
  
  You snap irritably, and she backs off carefully. The crowd is tense, and your guards place hands on swordhilts. You wave them down and continue talking.
  
  
  "I have lost family too. Every soldier dead in my service is a brother whose death I mourn. You lost two people, and I know their deaths will haunt you. But I am haunted too. I am haunted too; I am haunted by the deaths of not only the forty-eight warriors I commanded, many of whom I knew since they were boys, but also the deaths amongst the fyrdmen who died alongside me. We were all brothers; me, the fyrdmen, my warriors, all of us. those men who died were my brothers, and I mourn them like any other would. So know this; you do not grieve alone"
  
  
  The woman meets your eyes for a long moment, and then turns away, the crowd lets her pass. Did those eyes hold forgiveness? Maybe. The crowd is equally divided; some seem unmoved, but many others look at you with a new appraisal.
  
  
  Satisfied, you turn your horse homewards, and your escort follows.