Location: A Tavern on the Western edge of England’s border with the Debatable lands 

Date: July 1276, Unseasonable Rain & Fog 

Haven watched the innkeeper move about the room. The man was entirely to sharp-eyed for Haven to be able to trust Alwin as a source of intelligence. However, there were plenty of other possibilities among the customers. Most of the locals were laughing and enjoying a bit of time away from their troubles. A few other travelers, kept carefully to themselves. Back in a far corner a solitary woman sat frowning into a mug. An unhappy man or woman was often fertile ground for persuading him or her to a specific cause.

She was pretty enough--slim, with just enough curves to indicate her femininity,  Her dusky skin suggested she spent much time outside. Night dark hair framed her oval face. Equally dark eyes sat widely spaced on either side of a slightly crooked nose over the frowning deep red lips. 

"What think you of that woman in the corner, Watley. She's comely, though I think a smile would make her more attractive." 

"Indeed," De Sessions agreed. "I have five silver pennies that say you cannot charm her into a smile," 

Watley perked up. "I've a need for more than five pence." 

"What for?" 

"My leather bracers are frayed beyond repair. I'd like to replace them with a well made metal pair." 

"That could easily cost you a pound or more depending on the quality of the work and the metal." 

"Aye.Would you care to wager an entire pound on my ability to coax a smile from yon unhappy maid?" 

Haven looked from his squire a handsome man for a youth to the woman. "I think a pound would warrant much more than a simple smile. Think you she might walk out with you tomorrow. Perhaps to help you select your new bracers?" 

"I think I  could manage that." 

"I'll add a second pound if you procure a kiss from her?" 

Watley's brow wrinkled. "I'll not take her virtue." 

"A kiss, nothing more, and in private." 

"If private, how will you know I speak true when I say we kissed?" Watley stared at De  Sessions as he drained his mug. 

"You are sworn to my service, Watley. Would you lie to your overlord?" 

"Nay, never." He thumped the mug onto the table. 

"Then we have a wager." De Sessions held out his hand. 

Watley shook with him. 

They continued to watch the room for a few more minutes, and saw the woman request another drink. 

"This is my chance," Watley said. 

De Sessions nodded. 

Watley stood and ambled toward the bar where the serving wench waited for the other woman's mug to be filled. 

"I beg pardon, mistress," Watley addressed the wench. "Would you permit me to pay for that mug of ale and take it to the lady who ordered it?" 

The wench looked him up and down. "I'm near run off my feet, we're that busy tonight. Thankee for offering to lighten my load." 

Watley passed four farthings to the wench. 

"Sir, the ale is only two farthings." 

"Aye." The young man smiled at her. "Two are yours for allowing me to do this kindness." 

Her brows rose. "Ye're English aren't ye." 

"Yes." 

"That explains it then?" 

"Explains what?" 

"Why you'd think it a kindness to take ale to that one." The wench tilted her head in the direction of the woman in the corner. 

"I don't understand." 

"Go ahead," the wench encouraged as she handed him the full mug. "Take it to her and find out." 

What have I gotten myself into, Watley wondered.