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Bregoware
Rædwald
‘I knew it! Close my eyes for a few moments of well deserved rest and you two are talking about me!’ Rædwald came walking up to where Sythric and Meghan were sitting. He reached into the pocket of his breeches and pulled out a well broke-in pipe. ‘I smelled your smoke in my dreams, little missy. Reminded me of summers out in the eastern pastures.’
He grinned and reached out a hand. ‘Come now, hand it over to your old friend. Just a bowlful will do for me now.’ He tamped in the pipeweed and lit it with a strike from his little flint box. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said between puffs on the pipe, ‘I’ll break out my pouch and we’ll share it around.’
‘So Sythric, what’s got you up from your bedroll? Anything of interest?’ He grinned toward Meghan and then back to his old friend. ‘Or have you been letting the little lady talk your ear off.’ He stepped out of reach of her swing. ‘She chatters like a magpie if you’ll let her . . . her brother and I will attest to that.’
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