[Lawtan]

As he had done before, Gwion followed the tracks of smaller animals – they would know the location of a “safe” water source. Trampled grass and muddy squirrel prints led to a small brook. Taking out the bag full of sand, Gwion looked around. Listening for the chirping animals to fall silent, he proceeded to fill the bag with water. He hummed an old folk lyric while straining the water through the sand into the medicinal bag.

“Blancandrins, gallant pagan knight,

Advised his fellows not to fright,

“Too great a war we Spaniards have waged,

Yield to Charles, the kingly sage,”

So sayeth the Val Funde knight,

In the council of-“

The bag was filled, and so Gwion snapped out of his lyrics. Taking the dripping sack of sand and water, he held it over the bag of meal. Shifted water fell into the meal, and the bard mixed the twain. The cool soothing liquid mixed with a bitter taste down his throat. Resisting the gag reflex, he swallowed. He searched for blackberries and nuts to eat, and meal finished returned to his things.

Gwion pondered over his mission as he cleaned his armor and weapons. A young miracle-girl was reported to be active in the Holy Empire. Morcant was interested in this girl, and so sent his “fastest” spy out to find her…

Gwion strung his bow and picked up his lute. Heading to the road, he spotted the outer battlements in the distance. Gritting against some lingering aches, he set out to cover the mile to Avignon. Wagons crossed under the stone walls. The odd cloaked shadow of a foolish thieving child hung around food stands. As Gwion arrived, he pulled forward his lute out with a snapping of a joint. Strolling through the entrance, he set down a bag and bellowed, “My established lords, ladies and kids, merchants and peasants alike, if you would deign but a single copper, I shall play for you a tale. A tale of-“ a coughing fit wracked him momentarily, before he straightened back up, to see only a few eyes attracted, “-of a Valiant knight of the kingdom, whoso bravely fought off the eastern folk in the name of Charles the Great, most holy of emperors.”

A single lass dropped a small coin, and with a dazzling smile hiding somewhat yellowed teeth, Gwion began to play his tune. His ears remained strained to hear, beast or man, word of a holy woman visiting the less fortunate.