The same balding gardener from Hod is here, a bit older - as is a ten year old, fatty squalling Luke in a makeshift crib, sleeping away. It's homey, full of thriving plants, and there are two beds. The man looks up - he's weathered, and bent over, but an experienced fighter may be able to see he the bend is deliberate.

You feel much more secure in this room.

"Ah, welcome!" Pere says. "It isn't often we get visitors."