Spring 1095 SR
The Hammer was a busy place. With the grand melee only a night away, contestants were eager to drown their nerves with ale. Ludwig sat at a table, feasting on a large bowl of stew while Sigwulf and Cyn were opposite him.
He looked across at the huge man. “Are you not having a bowl?”
“No,” said Sigwulf. “The bowls here are too small for my appetite.”
Right as he finished, Millie arrived, depositing two bowls of stew before the man and a plate of chicken in front of Cyn.
“I thought you weren’t having any?” said Ludwig.
“No,” corrected Sigwulf. “You asked if I was having ‘a’ bowl, and I’m not. I’m having TWO.” He roared out with laughter.
Cyn shook her head and started tearing the leg off her chicken. “Tell me,” she said, “who taught you to fight?”
“My father hired a sw
