I sit at Scathach's banquet, proudly and a little sheepishly. I try to be inconspicuous, and answer with an innocent smile whenever I meet someone's glance. Luckily the banquet is plentiful and varied, and I plunge ravenously, thus avoiding conversation. But we are all doing the same. The men of my group all look a bit shaken too, or dazed, or feigning smugness. Scathach looks extremely pleased with herself.

Now that the battle-lust has left me, I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I have overdone it a little in my eagerness to prove myself... Cuar and Cat are flirting with a girl. I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my laughter at the memory. Well, what happens in Skye stays in Skye, and I do not have a man to come back to. Still, when I think back on it, I cannot help being amazed at myself!

The girl seems to delight in teasing and taunting all the men, as though what they have gone through were not enough! As for me, she looks at me mischievously, and once she even winks at me. She cannot be ignorant of the nature of my challenge, of course. Yet there is something in her attitude that sets me thinking. Or is it something in her face? I stare at her, trying to grasp what it is, but she just laughs and twirls away, all the while endeavouring to serve food to us all.

Though she seems to relish it, I begin to feel uneasy for her. All that heavy-handed attention, all those efforts for these lustful, demanding men. Were I in her place... I shake my head. I am not in her place, and not everybody is as picky as I am.

However it all seems to become a bit too much when one of the largest warriors tries to drag her on his lap while she is carrying a trencher of roasted boar. If she drops it she will have to clean up and work twice as hard. It is so unfair! Without thinking, I get up from the bench, stride forward and, with a reproachful glance at the man, I clumsily try to take the trencher from her hands.

Unfortunately, a knife is stuck into the boar haunch, and as the girl and I wrestle for a moment with the trencher, it cuts her palm deeply, and she yells.

A sudden vision flashes before my eyes, of having to hurt Cat's hand to win the fight. Why do I end up hurting people even when I try to help? And I cannot offer the girl the same consolation I offered Cat! "I am sorry," I stammer, "I did not mean that..."

"What IS this?" a voice booms above me.

I turn around and find myself confronting a mountain of a man, two heads taller than me, thrice as large, covered in outlandish armours and weapons and jewels, with a face as friendly as a glacier. I immediately square my shoulders and draw myself to my full height, never able to keep my mouth shut. "And what do YOU want?" I say.

He laughs, almost pushing me back with his gutter breath. "It talks!" he exclaims. "I thought one of the men had brought his dog inside. Instead it is a little girl! Go outside, little twig, go play with the chickens, before you get snapped in two!"

I do not want another fight, also because I most definitely do not want *this one* to get strange ideas. I glance at the girl, hoping she will say something, but she just smirks and isappears. Hmmmm... so what is happening here?

Roused to anger, I whip out my gladius. "You first."

Calmly, he reaches behind his back and swings down a massive axe. The blow lands between my feet, splintering the wooden floor, shaking the foundations of the house, making my teeth chatter. "Make me."

A very uneven fight begins. No feat seems to work against the warrior. I land inconclusive blows, all the while ducking and evading and trying to avoid being blown to smithereens. Most of the men are cheering me on, but it is no use. It gets so bad that I find myself rolling under a table to save my head, and a moment later the table all but goes to pieces around me.

While I try to think frantically about what to do, crawling under the tables in search of a way out, I come face to face with the serving girl, on all fours like me! She grins and tells me: "Are you running away?"

"Of course not!" I hiss. "I am trying to find some place to stick my sword into him!" A massive foot stomps in front of me just outside my shelter. I slash at it with my gladius, and the blow just bounces back. The axe shatters the table a moment after I scuttled quickly under a bench.

"He has a secret, you know," the girl says innocently, still somehow by my side in that cramped space. "You could beat him."

"What secret?" I snap.

"He talks in his sleep."

"How in the name of the Morrigan is this going to help me? I do not have any intention to bed him!"

The girl rolls her eyes. "Cannot you think of anything else? That is NOT the secret, silly. Do you want me to tell you?"

I glare at her. "So you will accuse me of cheating? I do not want your help."

"I will not place victory in your hands! You will still need your wits and your strength. Do you want me to tell you or not?"

The table shakes under the War Hound's blows. I think Scathach somewhere is enjoying this wanton destruction of her hall.

"All right, go ahead!" I whisper.

"Think of a turtle."

I stare at her. A turtle?! "What does this mean?"

"I told you... use your wits." She begins to scuttle back to safety.

I still do not understand, but it is better than nothing. "Thanks!" I call after her.

"It was not my idea," she snorts, and peeking from under the table I see Cuar and Cat, at their table, grinning and waving at me.

Smirking, I climb out from under the table. The massive warrior lets out a frightening roar and dashes towards me. As I begin once again the routine of ducking and vainly trying to find an opening, I think about the turtle. What do I have to do? Is it about slowness? No... it is obvious that this will not work against this monster. What about turtles? They are small, but a difficult prey, because of their shell. Am I supposed to act like a turtle? But I do not have a shell!

Then, as the warrior advances lumbering towards me, it hits me. He is the turtle. He is the seemingly invulnerable one.

But...

I quickly look around. If you overturn a turtle, it cannot get back on its feet. There is no way to overturn this mountain of a man. But maybe it is because his adversaries always go for the upper body. In a flash, I snatch a spear from the nearest warrior. The War Hound laughs, thinking I am trying to change my tactics. I throw it to the floor, immediately in front of his feet.

Advancing on me with the intention of flattening me, the warrior puts his foot on the shaft of the spear, and it rolls away under him. His legs fly up as the rest of him slams on the floor.

He does try to roll back from me, but he cannot. He is too heavy with his bulk and his armour. He looks furious - nobody ever managed to do this to him. All his strength derived from managing to stay upright! He tries to slash at me with his axe but he cannot get leverage.

I walk around him, playing with my sword about his throat. Then I sheathe it. I will just leave him this way, exposed to the jeers of the other warriors. As for myself... I have a meal to finish.