waiting for our eyes to adjust to the dim interior. It is past the heaviest meal hours, so there are more tables to choose from than usual.

Hand at my waist, my companion guides me to a secluded spot at the back of the shop, out of the foot traffic, and in a position to see the door. I shake my head and chuckle a bit. Ever the warrior, ever the Brehyrion. Well, it's a good thing, too, for the the tribe, to have a man who remembers his training.

Taking a seat, I look over the occupants of the wineshop. Today's mix seems much the same as usual. There are several shop owners from the Marchadfa that I recognize, and a few Roman paperpushers from the Basilica. A pair of Romans sits at the bar, downing raw oysters from the brine and seaweed-packed barrel that one of Jodynn's shoplads has trolleyed up to them. They are obviously enjoying themselves, laughing with gusto as they shuck the oysters.

I watch as they scoop oyster after oyster from the shells, dip them in the bowls of garum and swallow them, chewing only two or three times. I know I shouldn't be so finicky, but some of the things that these Romans eat truly turn my stomach. Oh, well, I suspect they think the same of us! Certainly their soldiers complain bitterly about all the meat they're forced to eat here in Britain. I shrug mentally. What did they expect with this climate?

I watch as Jodynn makes a progress (there's no other word for it) through the customers, smiling at one here, complimenting another there. At last she reaches our table and smiles down at me.

"Morgaine, it's so good to see you!" She nods her head at the Brehyrion and winks at me. "Who's your handsome fellow?" she laughs, and bends to stroke her shadow, a Vertragus hound she calls Calliope.

Gwalchmai's face is turning an interesting shade of red and I all but die laughing as he busies himself with examining the hound. Calliope, of course, is delighted with the attention and gives the Brehyrion a rather juicy, slurpy kiss of affection.

"Jodynn, may I present the Brehyrion of the Trinovantes, Gwalchmai," I say formally, meanwhile kicking Gwal under the table. We need this woman's assistance if we're to be players in the Catuvellauni's wine trade.

True to form, Gwalchmai, having recovered his composure, turns on his charm. Standing, he takes Jodynn's hand and smiles down at her. "I am honored to meet you, Jodynn."

He thrusts his chin towards Calliope and grins. "Nice hound you have there. Where did you get her?"

Oh, no! I moan to myself. Gwal, why did you have to ask her about the hound?