House Avalon

[The Flint]

"I... I think I killed him." Flea says weakly as he comes to. "He insulted my lord, than he chased me, and I got away, but then, he found me, and..." Flea gestures towards the bloody tunic. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to do the rat catching lady. I really am."

[shacklock]

Sargon nods appreciatively, paying for the drink and sidling over to a corner seat, drinking slowly. After a few moments he unbuckles his armour, reveling a nasty looking flesh wound across his shoulder. He rips off a segment of his shirt and wraps it around his shoulder rather clumsily with his left hand

[Erik]

"I don't see why not," Erik tells Dacey, still winded, "But I'll be right back. I could use a drink and a piss."

He throws his clothes back on sloppily and finds a privy, then heads to the bar. He orders a beer and drains it in short order, then realizes Sargon is there.

"Bit late for a boy your age to be out, Sargon," He remembers the conversation he'd had with Seth, earlier, "But say, fancy a trip to Dorne?"

[shacklock]

“Dorne ‘eh? Something his Lordship needs doing?” Sargon chuckles, grinning up to nod in greeting at his half-brother. “Still, something worth going for?”
He finishes wrapping the make-shift bandage, finishing his beer. “Good stuff in here. Should get out of your pisspot hall more,” Sargon remarks jokingly.

[Erik]

"No idea what it's for," Erik tells him, "It's Seth's work. Asked me to find someone. Go have a chat with him in the morning, I'm sure he'll tell you what's what." He rises from the bar, "But I really should be getting back. 'Night, brother."

Erik returns to the room and lies back down next to Dacey.

[shacklock]

“Aye, good evening” Pulling himself up, Sargon saunters over to the bar again.
“So, you girl’s serve food as well as damm fine beer?”

[Deleted]

"Don't worry about the rat-catching for now," Lettie said to Flea, suddenly alert. "Who is your lord?"

/////

It was so late it was morning, but it didn't matter. A serving girl smiled. "Yes, my lord." A while later Sargon's table was laden with roast venison, soup, bread and lamb cooked in wine.

/////

Erik found Dacey fast asleep.

[shacklock]

Sargon grins to himself as he begins to tear into the meal. A damm fine Inn this was. All it needed now was a few buxom wenches dangling on his lap and mabye a brawl or two.

There was no point sleeping now he supposed, he would finish his meal and perhaps having a few more drinks and then go and find Seth.

[Deleted]

///////////

When Erik awoke late the next morning, he found that Dacey had already risen to do her chores. The room was handsome, warm and comfortable. Nobody had disturbed him, but there was a sheet of parchment next to the bed, written in Lettie's precise hand. It listed last night's dinner, the drinks - had he really had that much beer? - and the charge for the room. The figures were appalling, but at the bottom of the bill someone had drawn a big smiley face.

[The Flint]

"Lord Francis Varner of Stoatheart, Lord Regent of the Hightower, Far Reach." The boy rattled off, as if by memory. He smiled that he'd successfully remembered it all.
"He's staying at an Inn and I'm supposed to stay with him. He'll be mad when I don't show up."

[Erik]

Erik rises and arranges his clothes a bit more neatly and inspects the bill.

Well. My island had better be damn profitable. 'Course, I doubt the whores there charge quite so much.

He heads out to the bar to settle his tab and get another drink to deal with his hangover.

[Deleted]

"Ah," said Lettie. "Well, boy, I can give you a second job, if you like."

//////

Dacey saw Erik as he came to the bar, and greeted him with a kiss. "Good morrow, my lord. Did you sleep well?"

[Erik]

"I slept like a drunk who'd just had an excellent fuck." Erik says with a smirk. "And you?"

[Deleted]

Dacey poured him a beer. "You wore me out, my lord," she said with a discreet smile. "I've ridden many steeds, but none quite so...untamed." She slid the beer across.

[Erik]

"I really should introduce you to my salt wife sometime," Erik tells her as he picks up the beer, "Loves a good wild steed. Dothraki, you know."