Entering the shop with Missionaria, I am quickly introduced to her two young apprentices. The girl, Callie, is a bright-faced lass, about 17 I would judge. I smile as she tries to wipe off the paint smudges before offering her hand to me. The lad is older, perhaps 19, and as dark as Callie is fair. Timon is his name.

I lend a hand with shuttering the windows and barring the doorway with the heavy iron grate. That done, we each take a lamp and proceed through the back room into the house behind. The kitchen is off to the left, and it is there we are headed. The smells of good lamb stew and fresh bread make my mouth water. I am ever hungry. Curse of being a big man.

The kitchen is warmly lit by lamps and hearth. And there is pottery everywhere. Dishes, and bowls, and platters, and hundreds of cups and containers. They're all painted with animals and people and scenes. They cover the long wooden table in the center of the room as well. The apprentices move the rockery around a bit and manage to find enough room for us to sit at table.

The cook, Marydd her name turns out to be, is an older woman, quite round with a pleasant smile. She had no sooner ladled out a generous portion of stew into my bowl, when a loud racket started up at the front of the house. Pounding on the door and rattling of the grate.

Taking lamps with us, Missionaria and I return to the shop and unbar the door. We are greeted by the smiling face of one of the Brehyrion's Captains. I see Morgause standing behind him, lips twitching, and know that something's up. And it is. I am to be a guest of honor at the Brehyrion's Hall tonight.

I take Missionaria aside. "Aria, I must go," I say glumly. "We represent the Iceni here, and it is important to the clan that this trade mission go well."

Missionaria nods. "I understand, Aelwid, believe me." She brightens, "And we will have other opportunities. Go in peace."