Garth stalked across the wooden weighing platforms that occupied what was once the site of the old Baron’s mansion, across the narrow strip that used to be a back alley cut off from the square by the mansion, and through the open door of the King’s Inn.
The tavern looked very much as it always had; there was no indication that anything within was not as it should be. The heavy, worn tables were in their accustomed places, the great brass-bound barrels still lined the west wall, and the vast stone hearth still took up most of the east. At the rear stairs led to the upper floor, and the Forgotten King’s table stood in the corner beneath. Everything was clean, with the soft sheen that could only result from centuries of use and care.
The tavernkeeper stood by one of his barrels, a mug and a
