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Eodwine
Eodwine leaped to his feet, sending his chair careening to the floor behind him. The lady Giedd was staring, dumbfounded, at her ale-sopped dress. "Lady, I do apologize for my part in your predicament. Is there anything I can do?"
She stammered, "Get Bęthberry."
"Of course." He turned to Bęthberry, who was sitting next to Ruthven, both of whom were shaking their heads (although Ruthven's frame was bouncing with laughter). "Lady Innkeeper, the Lady Giedd has asked for your assistance," he grinned in embarrassment, "for obvious reasons." He then turned his eyes, glowering, at the threesome who had caused the unfortunate chain of events. "'Tis no wonder women stay far from the three of you. You've yet to leave your boyhoods behind!"
"Now Master Eodwine," Garreth remonstrated, "we're most sorry for the plight the fair lady finds herself in, and 'tis true we had a part in it, but you've no business calling us mere boys!"
"Yes you are!" Harreld said loudly. "If I'm not here to watch you, there's no knowing what trouble you'll find for yourself! And worse, somehow you always manage to pull me into the soup with you! It ain't right." Harreld crossed his arms and frowned mightily.
Falco guffawed.
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