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Scyrr's face was fully red, both from the large amount of ale he had been consuming as well as now from when Saeryn had dragged him into the hall and the embarassement and anger as he realised that almost all the eyes were upon him. He cast a furious look at the woman, but before he could even think about any way of paying her back for how she had humiliated him by dragging him in front of everyone, Falco and Scyld were between them. Whichever way Scyrr would have acted and whether he would have done anything in front of all the people, even in his drunkenness, thus remained unknown both to himself and the public.
Scyrr therefore tried to straighten himself and look composed. Somehow, he was painfully aware of everyone watching him, he had noticed fellow riders, Áforglaed with his mouth open, Coen, frowning, Athanar, and also Léof and other men sitting around him. One or two of the women carrying the mead around were also looking at him now, and that angered him even more. Then his eyes turned back to Athanar, whose face was completely stern, and that felt like a splash of cold water for Scyrr. The only way he could now think of turning the shame away from himself was to turn it on somebody else.
"My lord Athanar, and everyone here," he roared, however the drunkenness was still heard in his speech, as well as perceived in his rather confused behavior. "This woman – she –" His eyes were searching for Eodwine, and it took him a long time since he had started looking for him from the opposite side of the hall, not realising he was sitting right next to Athanar.
Finally, his eyes met Eodwine's. "There!" he said, pointing his finger at him. "This man sent his woman after me – yes!" murmur rose at these words, but Scyrr shouted louder over it. "Don't you go sending your woman after me!" he yelled towards Eodwine. "If you have anything to tell me, come and face me like a man!"
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