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Show "Aye, in the Melee. The losing side is 'wiped out' and the winners banquet in great merriment and the losers go abroad passing glum. 'Twas what confused me when Simon used it." She took a long sip of her ale. "But 'tis not to the death at the tourneys. No one dies." "Aye," said Janni, "'tis a great scandal should blood be spilt there at all." "In other days, when war was real, they used terms like that. A garrison would be 'wiped out', and a village would be 'wiped out'." She shuddered. "But that was the way folk lived in those days, they knew no better, poor wights." "Ah, surely my Mother, we be overmuch civilized on BauerWorlde to let that manner of doing come back yet again." But Simon returned at that point, carrying two gulyasis and cutlery on a large tray; and Dr'Anya didn't answer- "Eat, eat," the worthy Simon said, and winked at the two at the table. A rustle and clank from the other side of the room interrupted a satisfied mopping-up of the remaining spicy gravy. Heads turned at the tables scattered around the room. The knight's chair scraped back and he picked up his helmet and sheathed sword. Under it were a pair of mail gauntlets. He belted the sword around his waist with studied care, picked up his gauntlets, replaced his helmet, and walked to the door, the squire lingering over his ale and watching him move off, a vacant expression on his young, narrow face-belying the glint of craft under his eyebrows. Passing by the table of the two women, the big knight slewed his eyes around and looked at them, slapping his gauntlets against his mailed thigh. 149 |
