“To my great displeasure, aye cuz, he is.” Weston downed his cup and poured another one.
                “Oh, yes.” Devlin had forgotten.
                “Oh yes indeed, please let us not speak of it.” The Lady Enton looked confused at their conversation, but said nothing. “Callister is here too, you may wish to know.” That overjoyed Devlin. Garret Callister had been like a father to him upon the battlefield in his first year, guiding him and consoling him after his first kill. He too was a great swordsman. They called him the Gentleman Knight.
                “I should like to speak with him.” Devlin said.
                “Hah! Good chance of that cuz. He is a Captain lest you forget.” Weston looked bitterly at his wine. “Probably feasting on grapes and girls in the King’s castle as we speak.” He finished his second cup since Devlin had entered, and stood up. Weston swayed slightly, trying to focus his gaze.
                Devlin let out a bark of laughter and slapped Weston on the shoulder who stumbled and nearly fell but for the Lady who caught him. Devlin and the Lady chuckled together all the more.
                “Go easy on the wine Weston.” The Lady spoke now. “A Lord should know what his limits are, small as they may be.” She gave him a coy look. Weston fondled her dress. She winced at the smell of his breath. “Is that your seventh now?”
                “Seventh cup, or seventh time I’ve fucked you today woman?” He let out a bawdy guffaw. The Lady flushed deeply and in her eyes was a great anger. She struck him in the face.
                “Watch your tongue.” She warned.
                “Or what, wench?” Devlin grabbed Weston’s arm.
                “Alright cousin, let us go for a walk in the city before you speak that tongue out of your mouth.” He pushed Weston out of the door. “My apologies, Lady Enton.” He bowed towards her.
                “You need not apologise for him.” She sniffed, but wamred to him. “If only more men were as valiant as you.” She stroked his arm.
                Devlin nodded his farewell and left with Weston.
                He guided Weston through much of the field, searching for the oak tree of House Callister but it was nowhere to be seen. At one point, Weston had stumbled into a circle of bannerless hedge knights supping on brith and knocked some out of one man’s hands. It took a long time of Devlin profusely apologising to appease him before the man finally slumped back down on his seat.
                So Devlin entered the city with him, searching until he found his place, The King’s Coat. Above the door swung the royal insignia. There were at least two dozen inns in the capital with at least some royal connection in their name, each claiming different things, but all proclaimed that their inn was the best. You’d have to be very drunk to believe it. Yet during his stay at louennon previously, when he had first gone off to war, this had been by far the best inn in the Capital. Garret had brought Captain Damyen and himself here.

The End

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