Uric, the younger uncle, more silent, but frightening in his silence, drew the map of the area in oat flour on the table. When it was done, and everyone knew their place, Misgett banged his cup on the table and called attention. A new peer was joining the ranks, and it was time for his baptism. The men pushed to the side so there was a place for the new man, Barnabas he was called, to kneel before Misgett. Misgett rose from his seat. ‘We see you be a man, is it so?’

Barnabas answered, ‘As I’ve handled a woman, I say so.’ The rogues all cheered.

‘We see you be an Anglishman, is it so?’ said Misgett next.

‘As my mother was an Anglishwoman, I say so.’ More cheers.

‘We see you be a rogue, is it so?’

‘As I pay allegiance with this purse, I say so.’ Barnabas raised a little sack to Misgett, who shook it all around the room, spilling the coins for the men to grab for.

Uric banged the table for quiet. Misgett raised his cup. ‘I welcome you as a man, an Anglishman, and a rogue!’ And with that he poured his beer over Barnabas’s head right at the kitchen table, leaving a sweet puddle for me to mop up later.

Then, it was time for Barnabas to share his ‘game’ with his new peers. He took out a leather box. Then he brought in the dogs.

There were three of them. Not skinny, little mongrels that root around in rubbish, but sturdy farm dogs. They were nervous to come into a room full of men, but Barnabas had them muzzled and leashed so in they came. Two were of sound health, the third doing poorly, its breath coming hard and whining as if pained.

Barnabas opened the leather box. Inside were three glass jars wrapped like new babes in wool fluff. Inside the jars were his poisons, for Barnabas was a gallipot.

The third dog, the one doing poorly, Barnabas told the rogues, had been given poison that worked in small bits each day from one of the jars. Over a month, it’d kill a grown man with none the wiser. Barnabas kicked the dog hard in the gut. It fell with a howl and couldn’t get up. The men cheered while the dog tried to crawl to the door. Misgett waved, and a lower rogue dragged the dog out into the yard.

Barnabas brought the second dog forward. Then he opened one of the jars from the box and poured three drops into a bloody slurry in a bowl. He let the dog at it. It dived for the bowl, lapping up the blood. The other hale dog barked and leapt for the bowl. Barnabas must have been starving them so he’d be sure they’d eat.