“No,” answered Osric. “I am not the bloody undertaker. You’re interrupting a negotiation session, Gran-gran, so if you wouldn’t mind—” “A negotiation? For what?” Xanthe turned to Fairhrim. “Did this man just call me Gran-gran?” Fairhrim looked, if you please, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. No idea who he is. He’s got in somehow. He tried to bribe me for a healing. And now he’s threatening kidnap with, honestly, grotesque ineptitude. The Wardens will make short work of him.”
