filled by burly men, spooning stew or drinking ale.
'I don't like this place,' whispered Banouin.
'This is the Green Ghost. It was highly recommended,' said Bane. 'You are too judgmental.' He wandered to the rear of the dining room, where a fat, balding man was wiping the bar with a dirty cloth.
'You have a room for the night?' asked Bane.
'We always have rooms,' said the fat man.
'What about women?'
The man shook his head. 'All taken. You'll have to make do with Dame Wrist and her five little daughters.
The room will cost you a half silver. In advance.'
'Friendly place, isn't it?' Bane observed to Banouin. 'Aren't you glad you came?'
Banouin sighed.
'You want the room or not?' said the fat man.
At that moment there was the sound of breaking crockery. Bane turned to see a young woman standing over three broken jugs, her thin woollen skirt stained with ale. The fat man stormed around the bar and rushed over to the girl. 'You stupid clumsy cow!' he shouted.
'One of the men grabbed me,' she told him.
His meaty hand slapped across her face, knocking her sideways. She fell against a table.
Bane was momentarily stunned. He could scarcely believe what he had seen. All colour drained from his face and he moved swiftly across the room. The fat man reached for the girl again, but Bane took hold of his arm, spun him, and delivered a right uppercut to his belly, followed by a left cross that sent him crashing to the sawdust-covered floor.
'Never in my life have I seen a man strike a woman,' he said. 'Find yourself a weapon. Then I'll open you from throat to groin.' The fat man, his eyes frightened, crawled back from the angry tribesman.
'I don't want a weapon. I don't want to fight you.'
'You don't want to fight? I have challenged you, man.'
'I don't care! I'm not going to fight you.'
The fat man rolled to his knees, crawled a few paces, pushed himself to his feet, and ran back to the bar.
Once there he fled through a doorway, slamming shut the door behind him. Bane shook his head in disbelief.
'How could he refuse to fight?' he said.
'He's just a coward. No shortage of cowards in the world,' said a grey-bearded man, sitting at a table close by.
Bane looked at him. As with most of the men his skin was deeply coal-stained.
The girl was on her knees, gathering the sharp shards of the broken jugs. Bane knelt down and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked into his face and gave a weary smile. Her skin was pockmarked, and a vivid red weal showed on the left side of her face. 'I am sorry that he hurt you,' said Bane.
'He's done worse,' she said. 'And he will again.'
'Better watch out, boy!' called the grey-bearded miner.
Bane glanced up. The rear door had opened. Two thickset men, both carrying cudgels, were advancing across the room. The fat man was back in the doorway. He was smiling now. 'You want to fight someone?' he shouted.
'Well, now's your chance.'
The two men rushed forward. Bane rose, took one step to the right, then lashed out with his foot. His boot hammered into the first man's knee, just as his weight descended on it. The leg snapped backwards. With a terrible scream the man fell. The second man lashed out, the cudgel catching Bane high on the shoulder. He swayed, then delivered a left hook to the man's bearded chin. The man stumbled. Bane kicked him in the face.
The fat man was standing framed in the doorway. Bane ran forward, vaulted the bar, grabbed him by his tunic and threw him back against the wall.
'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' wailed the man. Suddenly the sound was cut off. The fat man's jaw dropped and he sagged down the wall, falling to his knees. Bane tore his dagger from the man's chest. The dying man's eyes flickered. 'Don't hurt me!' he whispered. Blood frothed to his lips and he toppled sideways to the floor. Bane wiped his dagger blade on the man's tunic, then rose, sheathing the weapon. All around him men were sitting in stunned silence. No-one moved, save the serving girl who raised
'I don't like this place,' whispered Banouin.
'This is the Green Ghost. It was highly recommended,' said Bane. 'You are too judgmental.' He wandered to the rear of the dining room, where a fat, balding man was wiping the bar with a dirty cloth.
'You have a room for the night?' asked Bane.
'We always have rooms,' said the fat man.
'What about women?'
The man shook his head. 'All taken. You'll have to make do with Dame Wrist and her five little daughters.
The room will cost you a half silver. In advance.'
'Friendly place, isn't it?' Bane observed to Banouin. 'Aren't you glad you came?'
Banouin sighed.
'You want the room or not?' said the fat man.
At that moment there was the sound of breaking crockery. Bane turned to see a young woman standing over three broken jugs, her thin woollen skirt stained with ale. The fat man stormed around the bar and rushed over to the girl. 'You stupid clumsy cow!' he shouted.
'One of the men grabbed me,' she told him.
His meaty hand slapped across her face, knocking her sideways. She fell against a table.
Bane was momentarily stunned. He could scarcely believe what he had seen. All colour drained from his face and he moved swiftly across the room. The fat man reached for the girl again, but Bane took hold of his arm, spun him, and delivered a right uppercut to his belly, followed by a left cross that sent him crashing to the sawdust-covered floor.
'Never in my life have I seen a man strike a woman,' he said. 'Find yourself a weapon. Then I'll open you from throat to groin.' The fat man, his eyes frightened, crawled back from the angry tribesman.
'I don't want a weapon. I don't want to fight you.'
'You don't want to fight? I have challenged you, man.'
'I don't care! I'm not going to fight you.'
The fat man rolled to his knees, crawled a few paces, pushed himself to his feet, and ran back to the bar.
Once there he fled through a doorway, slamming shut the door behind him. Bane shook his head in disbelief.
'How could he refuse to fight?' he said.
'He's just a coward. No shortage of cowards in the world,' said a grey-bearded man, sitting at a table close by.
Bane looked at him. As with most of the men his skin was deeply coal-stained.
The girl was on her knees, gathering the sharp shards of the broken jugs. Bane knelt down and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked into his face and gave a weary smile. Her skin was pockmarked, and a vivid red weal showed on the left side of her face. 'I am sorry that he hurt you,' said Bane.
'He's done worse,' she said. 'And he will again.'
'Better watch out, boy!' called the grey-bearded miner.
Bane glanced up. The rear door had opened. Two thickset men, both carrying cudgels, were advancing across the room. The fat man was back in the doorway. He was smiling now. 'You want to fight someone?' he shouted.
'Well, now's your chance.'
The two men rushed forward. Bane rose, took one step to the right, then lashed out with his foot. His boot hammered into the first man's knee, just as his weight descended on it. The leg snapped backwards. With a terrible scream the man fell. The second man lashed out, the cudgel catching Bane high on the shoulder. He swayed, then delivered a left hook to the man's bearded chin. The man stumbled. Bane kicked him in the face.
The fat man was standing framed in the doorway. Bane ran forward, vaulted the bar, grabbed him by his tunic and threw him back against the wall.
'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' wailed the man. Suddenly the sound was cut off. The fat man's jaw dropped and he sagged down the wall, falling to his knees. Bane tore his dagger from the man's chest. The dying man's eyes flickered. 'Don't hurt me!' he whispered. Blood frothed to his lips and he toppled sideways to the floor. Bane wiped his dagger blade on the man's tunic, then rose, sheathing the weapon. All around him men were sitting in stunned silence. No-one moved, save the serving girl who raised
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