“Where is Dayson?” Stravor had spoken to a passing serving girl as he stepped into the bar of the Silverhide Inn.
She bobbed a curtsey. “He will return in the morning. Called away he was, Sir. D’ye wish a table?”
“Yes, girl. One by the warmth, and a jug of Dayson’s finest ale.”
The girl led the big man to a table near the fire. Stravor pulled a gold coin from his pouch. “Do not stop the drinks, is that clear?”
Nodding, the girl answered, “Yes, Sir.”
Stravor only grunted as he