The slave market was almost empty. Somehow he’d expected more than this dismal, dirty, flea bitten courtyard. It looked like the arse end of somewhere civilization had not so much forgotten as been glad to cast aside. Well, that was time travel for you. Set the dial to a period that sounds romantic, hit the big red button and look what you end up with! Typical really. After the week he’d had this just finished it off nicely. And if anyone spoke English here he’d eat his library card. Manly Norscot sighed heavily, "Right. Let's find this ruddy git then and get home before tea time shall we." He strode off, the goat trotting quietly beside him, his pocket watch dangling from its mouth.