[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine released Gudryn from his embrace and kissing her forehead once more, smiled at her.

"Shall we sit with Bêthberry and the others?"

Gudryn nodded. They went over to the table and took two empty seats. Eodwine passed his hand through his blonde locks, then rested his chin on his elbow, eyeing Bêthberry.

"I am still trying to figure out how my sword got from inside my sheath, to lying on the floor, but no matter." He winked and grinned. Bêthberry kept a straight face, waiting for more she somehow expected to come from Eodwine.

Falco pulled up a chair and sat at table. "Mistress Innkeeper," he said, "you are a lady of vast resources. What was it that caused the ruffian to lose his limbs?"

"Some things must remain secrets, Master Boffin, or they could not be brought to bear another day." She turned to Eodwine. "There is something else on your mind, Master Eodwine."

"Aye, that there is." He took his chin off his hand and looked at Gudryn. "You see, I have a daughter and I need a wife."

Falco looked at Eodwine out of the corner of his eye, and then askance at Bêthberry. "You're not about to propose, are you?"

Eodwine's eyes widened. "Propose! Well, I am going to make a proposal, but not of the kind you are apparently thinking of!"

Harreld and Garreth had finally picked themselves up off the floor and gained their balance. They had been listening to the exchange.

"Out with it, Master Eodwine!" Garreth said loudly. "Are you all of a sudden putting yourself in competition with me?"

Harreld hit Garreth open handed across the pate. "Don't you mean in competition with both of us?"

"You're no threat, little brother," Garreth intoned.

"No threat! I ought to..."

"Boys! Boys!" cried Ruthven. "Pipe down and let the man have his say!"

"For once I agree with you," Falco said, looking to Eodwine and thus avoiding the scathing glare of the rag lady.

"Well, Bêthberry, I was wondering if you could help me find a wife."