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Berulo felt fortunate to have found room and board this late in the night. Or early in the morning, depending on how one looked at it. It was a tribute to the proprietors of this fine inn that they were so well organized, even at this hour. He looked forward to a good night's sleep and a good hearty breakfast in the morning.
Although, he had heard, there was to be a party - a wedding party on the morrow. And there was to be singing and dancing, and merrymaking until all hours. That wouldn't go amiss either. Berulo's father had taught him a bit of piping and he had a fairly good voice, but what he really had a talent for was rhythm. And everyone knows that you just can't dance without rhythm.
But that was after he woke up. Which might not be for a long while yet.
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