ygerna sat heavily on a bench. her feet throbbed. she had covered the last 60 miles on foot. her horse had been killed in the skirmish on the way here, and she was separated from her companions. not all of them though, for an enormous black wolf-dog entered the tent with her and lay silently at her feet. how would she find her friend here, the one she came to meet? it was late now,and everyone was drunk. in good german she asked for some beer and chicken. oh for some real ale now