Provoke Gudrun.

"Hey," you say, standing up. "Barbarian! Leave that woman alone!"

Gudrun lets go of Livia's arm and turns to face you. The shorter girl scuttles away into a corner of the tavern, glad for the distraction. Gudrun eyes you coolly.

"And who are you?" she says. "Who is this scrawny, insolent stranger who happens to challenge Gudrun the Great?"

"I'm nobody. Just one man, alone, who happens to believe in a little thing called justice."

"Hah! Is your justice mightier than my sword?"

"Perhaps not. But I cannot idly stand by and watch as the innocent are victimised. She did you no harm, and as long as I draw breath you'll not be suffered to persecute her."

Gudrun draws her sword. She lays it flat on the table before her. She raises her fists and flexes her powerful arms for the crowd, inviting their support, throwing them winks and playing to their cheers and raised glasses. "I'll not need my sword to teach you a lesson, boy. The flat of my hand will do. Come over here and see how far your justice will get you."