Galthanos growled as the stench killed his wives' moods.  He spared his own pride by telling himself he was being gentle to them by not insisting on satisfaction, and that the stench was not enough to wilt him.<br/>The burly young barbarian rose, washed at a basin, and donned his clothes, including a shirt of mail underneath his light jacket.<br/>He drew his sword a few times to be sure the sheath was still oiled, then took a dagger out from under his pillow and tucked it into his boot.  "Let's take breakfast in the garden, girls," he suggested, starting up the ladder in the loft and opening the trap door to the roof.  Rows on rows of fragrant herbs in clay pots and planters were getting well established up here.  He sat cross legged in the midst of them, hoping for a breeze, and waited for the girl's to get breakfast ready.