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"I didn't look close at the trees," Falco returned, "just close enough to see their type. I know a sycamore when I sees one." Falco eyed the flint and steel in Ruthven's hands and decided he'd like to see her work it. "I'd like to test Ruthven's skill with the tinder, if she don't mind."
"Ho, now!" Ruthven grinned. "Don't think I can manage it, is that it?"
"Proof's in the pudding," Falco yawned.
"The King has indeed set me out to pasture, as it were, Bethberry," Eodwine said. All heads turned to him. "Seems I must find something else to do." He pulled another swig from his ale, eyeing Bethberry.
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