The man approached the gates of the castle and called up to the guards. He did not have the coin for a meal at a tavern, so his only chance was to try to sign on with the local guards. He did not wish to reveal who he truly, as there could be spies of the peasants, even here. "Oi there, I'd like an audience with the captain of the guard. Can it be arranged?"

He waited while the guards ran off to find out the answer to his question. The massive drawbridge was closed, and a moat, filled with sharp rocks, surrounded the castle. A man in a hodge-podge of colorful clothing came to stand beside him. He was obviously a fool, from his clothing to his humorous face. The man wondered if he belonged at court already, or was, like he himself, a mere supplicant.

It seemed to take forever, waiting on the guards to return. The sun was still beating down, heating up the leather armor he wore. He longed for nothing as much as a long soak in a real tub, but knew his chances of achieving that longing were fleeting at best. Even a pale of water and a rag would help at this point. His wounds were hurting him as well. Some were fresher than other, and some were a decade old and still gave him pain.