The temptation to give a false name is strong, and maybe Byerly would have done so if he could think of a sufficiently obnoxious one in time. But his wit doesn't quite come through in time, and so (alas!) he answers honestly.
"Byerly Rutyer," he answers easily. "A scoundrel and a lout, so don't worry about calling me ser. Unless you're doing so sarcastically, in which case, by all means, go ahead."
He has steadier sea legs than Octavius, and having done this trip many times, knows how to be helpful. As the boat bumps against the dock, he grabs the ropes and tosses them around the moorings. It saves the ferryman a bit of work.
"And you? What do you like to be called?" He has a guess for the name, but he's still not completely certain - and besides, there's often a difference between the name one is given and what one prefers to be called. Especially when one feels prickly towards one's forebears.
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"Byerly Rutyer," he answers easily. "A scoundrel and a lout, so don't worry about calling me ser. Unless you're doing so sarcastically, in which case, by all means, go ahead."
He has steadier sea legs than Octavius, and having done this trip many times, knows how to be helpful. As the boat bumps against the dock, he grabs the ropes and tosses them around the moorings. It saves the ferryman a bit of work.
"And you? What do you like to be called?" He has a guess for the name, but he's still not completely certain - and besides, there's often a difference between the name one is given and what one prefers to be called. Especially when one feels prickly towards one's forebears.