Croak caught his breath and almost heaved as the smell of unwashed bodies mixed with alcohol and food hit his nostrils. He fished a kerchief from his breast pocket and held it to his nose, breathing deep of lavender while he took in the packed tavern.
The tables were all filled and people stood who hadn’t found seats, holding their plates or bowls as they conversed. A harried barmaid rushed past, holding a large steaming bowl in each outstretched arm.
Croak shouted a greeting at the girl, but laughter drowned out his words. To his right, a large man guffawed so sharply,it startled Croak and he moved off to the left, darting toward a clearing before anyone filled it.
Croak was as tall as he was thin, but even he had to stand on his toes to get a decent look around. The barkeep and owner, Nathaniel, shouted something across the room, his good-natured grin hidden beneath his bushy chestnut mustache. At a nearby table, men lifted their tankards in salute and shouted back to him. Croak wound his way carefully through the throng toward the bar.
“Oy!” he yelled and thumped the bar top. The man next to him grumbled and gave him a frown, turning back to his drink. Nathaniel had his back to him, speaking with someone on the other side of the bar.
Croak moved further along the bar, waving his arms when Nathaniel finally turned his way, but the big man bent over for something and turned back without glancing over at Croak.
Frustrated, Croak looked around.
His eyes settled on the wood beam next to the man to his left, where a large bell hung.
“Mate,” he said to the man next to him. The man turned a baleful look at Croak, his big brows low and his mouth turned down. He didn’t respond.
Croak cleared his throat. “See that bell there?” he asked, pointing to the bell attached to the beam on the man’s left. “You ring it and get old Nathaniel there to come this way, I’ll give you,” here he dug into his pants and pulled out two coins which he showed to the man. “I’ll give you this.”
The man looked at him a moment longer, then grunted. He turned and lifted his hand to the bell and punched it with his fist. A roar went up across the tavern and Nathaniel swung his head around with his arms raised high and then pointed at them with a yell.
“Someone wants to buy you all a round, lads!” his voice boomed across the already raucous mob. His smile split his thick cheeks.
Croak smothered his own grin, ducking behind another patron as the man looked around at the many faces smiling back at him, his eyes blinking and his face dumb.
“What you mean?” he grumbled.
“You rang the bell, lad,” Nathaniel laughed and threw a dirty rag over one shoulder before folding his tattooed arms. “That means the next round’s on you.”
“I didn’t?—”
“You did.”
The man shifted his body up off the bar and turned to find Croak had slid back and through the masses. He turned back, almost desperately eyeing the expectant faces all around. “I don’t?—”
“You do.”
The man gulped as Croak wound his way closer to Nathaniel, his face wreathed in smiles as he clapped several patrons on their backs as he passed.
The man stood now, puffing his chest out as his mouth opened and closed like a trout. While the crowd cheered, he grumbled back into his drink.
Croak rapped on the bar top. “Nathaniel.”
The barkeep glanced over his shoulder, realizing who it was. He turned and leaned back against the counter stacked high with dishes, his massive arms crossed over his even bigger chest. “Well, look what the stinking alley cat dragged in.”
Croak dropped his chin and shook his head, grinning. “What is it about me and alley cats?” He winked at Nathanial. “Who woulda thought the civilized, settled life would suit you so well?”
“Aye,” the big man grunted. He narrowed his eyes at Croak. “And what you be needing this time? A barrel to hide inside? Sack of coins to pay off a debt?”
Croak gasped and put a hand to his chest. “You wound me, good sir.”
“If only it were mortal.”
“You haven’t seen me in months and this is how you treat a friend?”
“Friend?” Nathaniel scoffed. He flipped the dirty rag off his shoulder and wiped the bar top, forcing Croak to move away. “Your friendship almost cost me an arm.”
“Ah!” Croak said. “And yet if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have this fine establishment and the living that goes with it.”
