On the way out of the Palace a number of Bad Brothers acknowledged Breaker, some with smiles some with respectful nods, some with hints of fear and disgust. Breaker smiled and bid them good evening or just nodded. Most of his attention was on the white haired man beside him.
"So Cailan, I imagine this ain’t how you expected your evenin’ to go?"
Breaker grinned around the cigar in his teeth as he held open a door out of the Palace and motioned with a slight bow for Cailan to go first.
As they passed through Artisans Court and grew closer to Kings Court the streets got more lively and boisterous, more people on the street.
It was hot, even late in the evening as it was, the busy streets smelt of sweat, wood and tobacco smoke, booze and the tang of the sea. Breaker drew the scent and smiled broadly, this was the smell of home and he loved it. All its dirt and violence, the sheer brutality of some of it, yet it held a certain beauty as well. This was his city, his home.
Then they came to a tavern, warm yellow light streaming from broad windows, knots of folks stood around outside enjoying the breeze. From inside, carried on a cloud of fragrant smoke came the sound of accordion and fiddle. The sign above the door bore a picture of a telescope and under it written in faded gold paint, ‘The Spyglass’.
Breaker smiled as he pushed his way into the tavern. Inside it was merrily lit with oil lamps on the walls and candles on the tables. It was doing a good trade, but it wasn't crowded. Most of the pubs customers where out front or in the yard out back.
On a small stage in the back corner a small band performed, a fiddler, an accordion player and a pretty red haired woman who started sing.
Old Rose girls ain't got no combs
Haul away, haul away
They brush their hair with poorman bones
And we're bound away for The Dyin’ Rose!"
The long bar was staffed by three wicks, a witch, hair in a long braid, a younger man haircut short with a neat pointy beard and finally a rotund man of middling years with curly blond hair and bushy side whiskers. All there had hair the colour of straw and the same green brown eyes, this was Barnabus Fitzgerald, the owner and his son and daughter.
Barnabus nodded in greeting to Breaker and Cailan as they entered. Breaker turned to Cailan and said with a grin.
"You grab us a table, I'll get a round in. What do you fancy?"