“Disaster?” Ralph bristles. Good King Edward routed the perfidious French!
“For the French.” Nicholaas grins, adjusting the lace-trimmed coif that adorns his head. “All that ransom money will fill the English king’s coffers.” They discuss the impact of the war on trade, agreeing these are good times for men with wares to sell, before Ralph decided it is time to retire for the night. His guest has been offered a bed by the hearth in the main room but has declined, saying he’ll dare the curfew and return to the room he’s rented in the inn a few houses down the lane. Besides, he adds, after all this good food and wine, he needs the privy.
“The firmaments of heaven,” he murmurs, scratching his chest. He sniffs his sleeve. Time for a bath, he concludes. Yes, a nice long bath down at the bath house. Tomorrow, God willing.