He noticed the same two guards were standing by the door. More waited nearby. Satisfaction, tinged with a touch of pride, filled him at the realization that they feared him enough to make sure he was outnumbered four to one. They fell in behind him, flanking him, as he followed Lebor around the staircase and across the foyer. A quick glance out the windows on either side of the front door told him it was still mid-afternoon and snowing. He stepped into the living room. The furniture had been pushed against the walls, except the wingback Ann had always favored; that chair had been positioned in front of the fireplace like a throne. A throne that now held a figure. Lebor gave Bann a shove to the center of the room while his guards fanned out behind him. Other Fir Bolgs ringed the room. All were armed with knives and clubs and, in a few cases, hatchets. They stood at attention, guarding the figure that sat sprawled in the chair. In human shape and naked, and with his legs splayed as if to show off junk that wasn’t really all that impressive, the figure had a mane of thick tawny hair with streaks of black that reached to his shoulders.
