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The lad was a bright boy. Falco smiled. "Maybe we ought to tell only your Dad and Lord Eodwine first, eh?"
Garmund looked like he was thinking hard for a moment before he nodded slowly and seriously.
"Right then," Falco smiled, pulling out his pipe and Old Toby from his vest pocket. "Now where did I put my flint?" He patted his pockets to right and left of his protruding belly. "Ah! Here it is!" He produced the flint and lit his quickly filled bowl under the fascinated eyes of Garmund. Soon he was producing smoke rings; Garmund tried to hit them with his hand and turn them into so much shapeless patches in the air.
Meanwhile, the twins were humming and mumbling to each other in their bath. Falco wondered what it would be like to have a partner stuck to himself, sharing the same pair of hips and legs, someone to always have to look out for and talk to, or ignore and be angry at like as not. It seemed such a bother. He sympathized with the plight of the twins before forcing his thought away from such wildness altogether.
"How are you coming, Rilef?" Falco asked.
"Rubbed raw!" said Lefun. "Right good!" said Ritun. Luckily their voices sounded like enough that anybody overhearing would think only one man had spoken.
"Now Garmund," Falco said, "Lord Eodwine's not back till sundown I'm thinking, off to the King's hall Meduseld he is, so we need to keep Rilef hid till the sun goes down. Where do you s'pose we should hide 'im?"
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