I finish my stew and sop up the last of it with some bread, and take a sip of mead. The fire has warmed me up nicely. I'm looking at the grizzled old warrior trying to intimidate the young knight. Poor old guy, apparently he has forgotten the basic rule ...never underestimate the opponent. To which I shall add, especially if you're drunk enough not to know a man from a woman.

I settle comfortably on my bench, crossing my legs in the lotus posture, and look around the room. The one they call Harald is beginning to stir.

I smile serenely at a rather large young germanic with blond mustaches who has been staring at me openmouthed. He shuts his mouth, and looks away, embarrassed to be caught. Obviously they haven't seen many of my kind here.