I found myself following Nosy back to the stables. As we drew near the heavy doors I wondered how we would get in. But Nosy's tail began to wag wildly as we got closer, and then even my poor nose picked up Burrich's scent in the dark. He rose from the wooden crate he'd been seated on by the door. "There you are," he said soothingly. "Come along then. Come on." And he stood and opened the heavy doors for us and led us in.

We followed him through darkness, between rows of stalls, past grooms and handlers put up for the night in the stables, and then past our own horses and dogs and the stable boys who slept amongst them, and then to a staircase that climbed the wall that separated the stables from the mews. We followed Burrich up its creaking wooden treads, and then he opened another door. Dim yellow light from a guttering candle on a table blinded me temporarily. We followed Burrich into a slant-roofed chamber that smelled of Burrich and leather and the oils and salves and herbs that were part of Burrich's trade. He shut the door firmly behind us, and as he came past us to kindle a fresh candle from the nearly spent one on the table, I smelled the sweetness of wine on him.

The light spread, and Burrich seated himself on a wooden chair by the table. He looked different, dressed in fine thin cloth of brown and yellow, with a bit of silver chain across his jerkin. He put his hand out, palm up, on his knee and Nosy went to him immediately. Burrich scratched his hanging ears and then thumped his ribs affectionately, grimacing at the dust that rose from his coat. "You're a fine pair, the two of you," he said, speaking more to the pup than to me. "Look at you. Filthy as beggars. I lied to my king today for you. First time ever in my life I've done that.