Chapter TenThe interior of the tavern was crowded with people, all human. As the three overpeople entered a sudden quiet spread before them. Three dozen pairs of eyes watched them intently. In the silence Garth could hear the sound of a knife sliding from its sheath.
Saram muttered, “I think you had better say something.”
“People of Skelleth!” Garth said. “We have come in peace. The battle is over. We mean you no harm; we have come here to drink and to talk, nothing more.”
The silence and tension remained; the crowd still watched.
“Innkeeper,” Galt called, “five mugs of your best ale!” He sauntered into the room, found an empty chair, and seated himself. The table he had chosen was occupied by two grubby, middle-aged men in stained tunics. “I hope you don’t mind if we join you,” he sai
