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Lithor trailed off. What was that? He squinted hard into the dark beyond the two young men, where he thought he could see...
A deep black shadow filled the doorway behind Wilheard and Wulfric silently. Lithor could not quite suppress a grin, for the shadow was tall and had loose, ragged hair the color of raven's feathers. It hovered behind them.
Wulfric scoffed at Lithor's cheer. "Wit, eh? What are you, Eodwine's jester? I hadn't heard he kept one."
Wilheard moved towards Lithor threateningly. "You're a very poor jester, fool. From the moment you opened your giddy mouth, my humor has only gone from bad to worse. And now - "
The shadow behind them spoke.
"And now?" said Crabannan. Wilheard and Wulfric turned about in surprise as Crabanan stepped out of the shadow into the lamplight. Lithor grinned wider. Crabannan crossed his arms and looked at the two fellows. "Forgive my interruption, it seems the play is just beginning. Well, the audience is here. Recommence."
Wilheard and Wulfric looked the newcomer up and down. They recognized him from earlier that evening and eyed him darkly. They said nothing.
"Or off the stage, then!" Crabannan said. "And hurry back inside to hide behind your father's robes - ow!"
Wilheard and Wulfric looked at each other and back at Crabannan. He was doubled over, clutching his side in apparent pain. They smirked. He looked up at them.
"I must do something to relieve these cramps," he said. "This is what comes of lack of exercise - ow! I have been idle too long." He straightened up and began twisting his head from side to side. His neck made a cracking noise. He stretched his arms and flexed his shoulders - all the while keeping his dark eyes on the two young men.
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