This day did Her Majesty the Queen Herself send orders that I must stand down at end of week from Her Service and a Baronial Edict from my Lord doth sore constrain my travels and I do fair suspect there shall be a picket about my quarters this Friday coming for I am vexed grievously and weary of this damnable idleness and most keen to have at the
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Methinks that perhaps the visit to the tavern in Avon might not be such a good idea then -- taverns are notorious breeding grounds for such vices.
Fear not, noble cousin! There will be plenty of the enemy left when you are healed of your wounds.
I too, am unable to travel far these days, and would be most glad of your company at the tavern, or elsewhere. We can drown our various sorrows in a mug or two of ale.
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