"I promise you that you will not be sorry," Ingvoldr whispered into Widimir's ear before she licked it.

Between her wet tongue and her doing a little lap dancing, Widimir was suddenly back awake.

A mighty yawn escaped my throat and he remembered something about a contest.

"Oh my deariest, before I can take you up on such a wonderful offer to your home, I must make my second throw."

Widimir started to get up, but than thought, why would he want to. Besides, he wasn't sure he could stand up without everyone noticing the "sword" he looked like he was smuggling in his trousers.

Reaching down into his boot (yes, he kept his feet covered) he pulled out another dagger. Trying carefully not to hit the boar for a 2nd time, he let fly at the well marked target. There must have been some metal stuck there because the dagger bounced off the wall, and stuck into the bench that Gerulf was sitting on, right between his legs.

From the look on Gerulf's face, that closely matched that from Brunhilda it was obvious that either Widimir might kill someone or more likely someone might kill him.

"Maybe I should leave these games to the boys and concentrate my manhood upon you woman!"