heh.
That went better than i could have hoped for.
Duresen't start out well, though. Master Oldgrove brings me ter the Bridgetown... an' up pops more of them grim northerners ... and then... that old bastard hisself, the helm-giffer. I realises master Oldgrove is an even better liar than me.
'You be safe with me lass' he says.
'Buy you pretty things and a hot bath', he says
'I forgives you for takin' me star', he says
'Tell me all about why you did it', he says.
Feh. last time I'm a-listening ter him. A big bundle o' bloody trouble - a bunch of northerners looking ter hang me, all brought by him. I thought I was done for. They marches me over the bridge into the town, with that southerner Araenion prancin' alongside 'em. I knew he were up ter summat when he disappeared in the mists. In with the lot o' 'em, I'm guessing.
But Helm loves a sprightly lass, an' he were lookin' after me. we comes over the bridge... and there is gyth an' Wine an' Bawde. I were so pleased.. I could even a' hugged Bawde, the big shoutin' bugger.
Then the trouble started. Bloody northerners waving swords around. Bawde and wine does their best, but two men and a couple o' lasses, all tired, aint so good against eight northerners. I tries ter get away, but they got ten archers with 'em and they got me sighted like a coney in a field.
Forked-tongue Oldgrove starts his wheedling .. that southerner Araenion finally remembers who is paying him and tries ter help us. Gyth goes yammerin' about aelf thralls - and I bloody well knows i aint one, but she insists on doin' the test. I tries ter be honest and buy one of their silver stars, but none of the twenty northerners there will sell one, and the helm-giffer just stares at me like I'm summat plopped out of a horse's arse.
Then they starts closin' in, thirty of 'em all hard eyed an spittin fer blood. i aint able ter help it, they'm as big as trees an' they got eyes as sharp as spears. So... it comes out... that I took the bloody star fer gyth's teacher. I dursent know what is worse - bone men comin' fer me iffen I digs up more things, the helm-giffer an' his forty lads, or gyth's burnt man when he hears i told 'em where he is...
Still. i dursent get hanged yet, an' in the confusion I gets them ter question gyth. Heh... Eorl's tits - they'll have a hard time o' that, what with her not speakin' wealas, even less than me. An' Helm, he watched over me, an' they forgot me an' everything.
Steora swifthand is a clever lass, i even outfoxed all fifty notherners!
