steora

I'm going to call her 'Chance', an' a pretty little mare she is. Odd, I was expecting a wealas horse to be no better than a spavinned nag. P'raps these wealas aint such bad judges o' horseflesh after all. A hard night's work an' all, but Gyth and Wine did what I asked 'em, tho' I thought it was all up when that interferring bloody old giffer Eadbald strides up. Helm's Huge and Hairy Horn ! where did the old fool come from? I thought we'd lost him down by the dishwater inn, now he turns up in the north as though its just a day later. Feh...

Pft. I dursn't see what Gyth is seeing in 'em. Wealas men. She's fluttering her eyes at them like there's no good men in the Mearc. iffen I was Bawde I'd give her a good slap. Heh... put Wine's nose out o' joint though. He's looking as pale as a greensick lass seein' Gyth swooning at these bloody northerners.

Woke wi' a shock today. Dursn't know where I am fer a moment. Then i remember, that inn out past Bree... a wedding... some crates of wine... lass with titties as big as m'head and a basket o'ducks... and Aefenwine with a face like a hungry dog.

now... there's big talk amongst them Bree folc about some eorl of theirs getting wed. Which is news, given that most of the bree folc jus' up and swap lasses like the town was just some big whorehouse. Iffen they aint out killin' each other instead. eh. never such a place for misery and blood, that Bree... miserable wealas

Well ain't this lovely. First that trip westwards lookin' for Thurbrand, fallin' in the lake and endin' up stayin' in a camp full o' Breelendings and a bossy holbytla 'cause Albert wouldn't let me travel while I still had a cold... and now this. I was just gettin' used to that nasty inn - beer was piss, but at least the beds in the cellar were outta the wind - and now we go traipsin' EAST! And I'm stuck sleepin' in some soggy ol' bunkbeds with a bunch of raggedy strangers...

i got m'coin all stolen in that Pony. All done afore my eyes an' all... so I aint complainin'... done well too, it was. Olver, Wolt and that Rose lass, they cleaned me out proper. Heh. still, Olvar kept buying the ale... so I reckon I drank more coin than i actually lost. An' he bought me a room too. So... in truth, I won! I wager they wished they'd worked on a lass with more coin, though. I suppose I played cos i was bored, interestin' to see what tricks they were using.

Me and Gyth, Bawde an' Wulfie got out as far as that Oat's Guruth, past the forsaken inn. A miserable place it is, full o' folk that have no homes. They says that there is shades an' worse a-walkin' about nearby... and there is a great stinking mire.. when the wind blows wrong I can smell it. Faugh! no wonder they all looks so sad. makes me want the open wolds of home, see for miles, green grass and clean clean air. I feels a bit sad for 'em. They aint townfolk, they aint used to livin' all bunched up. Summat must be wrong, for them to run behind the big walls.

...and thats the last I'm seeing o'that elf. Feh... scaring a girl like that. they shouldn't be allowed amongst proper folk. I been staying in the Pony since then mind... wait until its gone far away. Getting to recognise some o' the good-fer-nothing types that hang around the pony.. allus there they are. Particularly that skinny fellow [jairyth], with that mess of a little beard and moust-aches - talks all the time, allus there with his woman out in the back rooms.

woke up this mornin'... eorl's tits, but I was feelin' bad. Can't remember how I ended up in that good room in the Pony... that man must have helped. Don' think he gave me his name. He paid fer the room though, Butterburr said. heh. Free room! At least i had all m' clothes on ... lost my boot though. Later i found it, next to the jakes. Lookin' at the wine bottle by the bed i reckon that had summat to do with it.