[Bêthberry]

"Gentleman and good people all," intoned a voice clear with dignity and command, though not with noble hauteur. It was the Innkeeper. Bethberry stepped forward.

Dégas, if you will, please respect the rules of this Inn. It is a noble Inn with the longest and finest history in Edoras. You prove yourself honourable by passing on your sword, but do not think you can march in here and make demands upon the patrons. Or on myself."

"Who are you, woman?" asked the young man.

Eodwine's eyes flashed at the insolence and the twins rose in anger, sputtering, and Falco, why, he harummpffed in his best manner.

Bethberry raised her hand to her friends and looked the young man squarely in the face.

"Who am I indeed. It is a good question. One that many here could not answer. Yet they judge me and accept me on my manners and behaviour to them, and not by my history. I bid you show us similar courtesy."

"I beg your pardon, Madam. Where is the Innkeeper?" replied the boy, stung but not giving way his ground of self assurance.

"Where is she indeed," Bethberry remarked with a smile. "Perhaps you will sit down and show your good intentions by being a good patron of this inn. Order some ale or mead or warm drink, even a plate to fill your belly, and make the efforts of the staff here worthwhile. Give them your coin that they may go home this evening with reward for their labours. And perhaps then you will find a friendlier response to your concerns."

At which point Ruthven caught Bethberry's eye, nodded, and then wispered to Ayeth and Gudryn, "Let Saeryn know that she is not forced to make an appearance unless she wishes it under the auspices of the Innkeeper."