Callan laughed, filled the horn again, and handed it to Malcolm.
"First of all, old man, the door is not transparent. How could I know it was you, not those freaks who left such a stench in my room that I got to keep the window open for half an hour. Secondly, it is not me who invited myself to visit here. Come, drink with me and don't get angry!"
Malcolm smiled and took the horn.
"Those three stinkers are the sons of the king of Alypa. He himself is dead, but his second wife did not want to pay for the princes because she wanted for her son to sit on the throne."
"Have to give credit where credit is due!" Callan wondered, "Are you not embarrassed that we're being served by princes?"
"Not at all. Why would they be better than McLaughlin, the lord of Danvegen castle? Besides, I defeated them in a fair fight."
"I can imagine," Callan giggled.
"Ek, those are meaningless things in the past. Tonight you have to go to the Campbell's castle in Kingsdale. You'll get in the room next to the dinning hall. Every night the lord of the Kingsdale's castle has dinner in it and discusses the most important events with the family. You will hear everything, and I trust that you will be able to make the right decision about your future actions, which will not embarrass our blood and benefit the McLaughlin clan. That's all you have to do. Do not be afraid for yourself, you are invincible."
"But how am I going to get there? Just by walking?"
"You can get wherever you want, faster than the thought. For now, rest and recuperate, when the hour hits, I'll come," Sir Malcolm emptied his horn and left.
Callan dressed up in Conan's clothes, fastened his sword to the chain belt, poured himself wine and, slowly emptying his second pitcher, began to wait for the fateful hour.
A short time later, he was interrupted again by a knock on the door.
"Welcome," Callan muttered, "show yourself."
An girl entered the room, looking very similar to Callan, black, long, wavy hair, dressed in the same rags as the three stinky princes, only hers were clean, her legs were bare and bluish, as the floor of the castle was covered by a stone and winter was raging outside, otherwise her body, as Callan saw, was a lovely brownish colour.
"Come in, girl," Callan filled his horn again. "You have a nice tan, and since there's no sunbeds, hopefully it's natural. What would you like? Maybe a drink? It feels like you might be cold."
The girl took the horn and touched it with her lips, then she put it down on the table and looked Callan in the eye.
"Have you already forgotten your maid Gledis, young master, that you talk to me in such strange ways? I have spent a lot of nights under your blanket, and now Sir Malcolm wants me to spend some time with you until the upcoming feat.."
"Oh, is that so," Callan mumbled, "It's rather unexpected... Well, friend Conan, hopefully I don't bring shame on you."