“Good enough,” said Mannagarm, and he went into the house. Inside, the longhouse stunk of smoke from the cook-fire where one of his servants was making dinner. He looked around and scrunched up his nose at the assault of smells. The thatch was wet and mouldy. The floor was mere hard-packed dirt. A mouse ran across the floor, surprised by the entrance of the old man. “Heh,” he sneered.