Taerith was last through the door, with Kardas only a few paces behind him, but just before the tavern's noisy dim closed in over him, he saw a hand clap down on Kardas's shoulder and heard a voice intone, "Greetings, my lord Half-Blood."

Taerith drew his hunting knife and was back on the street in an instant. Three men stood around Kardas. They held no weapons that Taerith could see, yet their expressions were unmistakably threatening. The chief of them, a tall, stocky man with a half-shaven head and a dull wine-coloured cloak, drew his hand back from Kardas's shoulder. He glowered at Taerith with such displeasure that he almost expected him to hiss.

"Who is he?" he asked.

* * *

The Eight Chapter of my novel-in-progress,Taerith, hath been posted! Comment, all ye who enter here.