Middanhal
In the capital, they were anxiously awaiting news. It had been a week since the army left, and it felt as if the entire city was holding its breath. There were constant glances to the south, wondering if Middanhal would soon be under siege again. Those who had money to spare bought food for their stocks. Salt was near impossible to find and worth its weight in silver.
Inside the Citadel itself, Theodoric sat in one of the rooms of his quarters. He was seated by a table with numerous slips of paper; on each was written a name. Constantly, the jarl shuffled the slips around in a complicated pattern not discernible to the outside observer. As he heard the door to the hallway open, he looked up and prepared to cover his work; he relaxed as he saw it was Holwine. "What did you learn?" he asked of her.
"All of Lord Ingmond's margraves are in the city. Some in the Citadel, some in their private domiciles."