### 69

The old woman sits herself at your table and takes hold of your right hand. For a few minutes she mumbles and murmurs incoherently as she traces every line on your palm with her crooked index finger.

‘Great strength, long life, and good fortune will be yours, kind sir,’ she says, grinning inanely. ‘Ah, but what is this? Is this love I see? I … I cannot be sure.’ And with this she holds open her left palm inviting you to give her another Gold Crown. You look to the owner of the inn and he frowns and shakes his head. The old crone is clearly a charlatan and she will tell you anything she thinks you want to hear so long as you continue to pay her. You snatch your hand away and tell her to leave. Muttering darkly, she picks up her basket and scuttles out of the inn, slamming the door behind her with a resounding crash.

It is getting late and you are feeling tired after your long day’s ride, so you bid goodnight to the owner and retire to your room to sleep.

To continue, turn to 242.