Following on from Part 13:
Several hours later, Adrig nudged Edrig awake and told him, 'I have a plan.'
'Oh, so what is it?'
'Well... Alan and Edmund will not have arrived yet, but they will be there soon. Macrig will already have detected the pod as incoming. We can send a brief message to Macrig telling him to tell the drunks they had better pretend they are footballers if they wish to survive their experience. Of course he'll need a translator as he can't speak their language, but that should be easy enough for him to find in our tower, and we can ask Macrig to deliver them to the Lady Lord. You see? We are sending them on ahead of us because we know she is waiting. How considerate and diligent of us! We can explain all that in detail to her when we return in triumph, perhaps even with some more and better men for her! And we will ask Macrig to return the pod empty to where it left from. He will need to return it in the middle of the night to minimise the chance of detection, so that gives us a whole day and a whole evening to explore this place, and in the evening we can seek out the dancing ladies. Brilliant eh?'
Edrig thought it through.
'You know Adrig, that's not bad. Not bad at all, provided the scruffy old guys can keep her Lady Lord happy, but they'll be sober by then, and provided she doesn't find out what real footballers look like. But, given the circumstances, it's not bad.'
'You see, young lad! I can do it when I set my mind to it. Now, for tonight... it's actually quite warm in these thick coats isn't it?'
'So just let me send the message and then we can get some sleep here. You seemed to manage alright, while I was thinking.'
And so he keyed into his communicator:
Tell these two arriving soon to say they are footballers if they wish to survive. I will reward you. Deliver them to LL. Return pod to same coordinates for 3 am tomorrow.
'Genius!' Adrig declared, before turning his communicator to silent and leaning against Edrig, who was also leaning against Adrig, and soon they were both asleep.
And they slept through until the light of morning, when a gaggle of schoolgirls shouting abuse at them brought them back to consciousness,
'Get a job!'
'You trying to see up my skirt you dirty old man?'
'Civilised?' Edrig asked Adrig as they passed.
'Interesting. Such precociousness and vulgarity while so young. Aged 16 to 18 I'd say. Pretty though. Pretty potential that's for sure. Oh! I wonder if there's a message from Macrig?'
There was indeed a message, that read:
They arrived. What sort of game is this? But will do what I can. Both are currently very confused and not yet compliant, Will get them settled down first. They wanted whisky, but I gave them water and food. They are shaking strangely.
'That all sounds good,' declared Adrig with a smile. 'Macrig is a good man really. He will clean them up, scare them witless, offer them a route to survival by giving a footballer's passionate performance aboard the Lady Lord and all will be well. And now we need to plan our day. Let's see... across to the shops, something to eat, a look at all the ladies wandering around and a bit of research into the location of dancing ladies for the evening, and purchase more suitable clothes, perhaps.'