[mark12_30]

"Wait, Brodda. Are you crazy? Not the front door..."

Brodda checked his stride and looked down at Gamba. "Let's have a look, " Gamba slowed him down, and surveyed the surroundings. "There."

"The kitchen? I don't want to run into the kitchen staff!"

"Trust me. Kesha, follow. Brodda, do what I tell you."

Brodda watched open mouthed as Gamba and Kesha melted into the kitchen practically under the noses of the cooks and waiters, and then beckoned to him. He shook his head.

Instead he went around to the front door, drew himself up to his full height, and bluffed his way in.

"Looking for a lady-friend at your age?" said a waiter. "Starting down a bad path early, aren't you?"

Brodda blushed, stammered, and muttered something about his money being as good as any older man's, and the waiter laughed coarsely and moved on. Brodda, trying hard not to blush and wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into, found an empty booth and wondered how he could make himself look less out of place. He wondered where on earth Gamba and Kesha had gotten to. But suddenly a quarrel broke out at one of the tables.

One man cuffed another. "Yer stole my drink!"

"I did no such thing, " replied the man, indignant and getting angry. "Why would I do that when I've for one of my own right here?"

"Becauise yours is empty, that's why, " the first snarled. The second man looked into his mug in disbelief, and then swung at the first. "Thief!"

"Aye, and a better one than you, " he replied, swinging. Someone threw a tub of soapy water at them. But a few tables over, an old man called, "Waiter, I asked yer to fill my brew! What did ye charge me for, and leave me empty?"

Brodda wondered in all this commotion, where was Gamba and Kesha; and he wondered all the more, when a painted, haggard woman made her way to his table and slyly said, "The waiter says you've come to lose your money. But I'm thinking I should send someone to find your mother."

How he was going to get out of this one, he had no idea. Where were those northerners with their furry and webby feet?

Another fight broke out across the smoky room. The waiters began to wonder where all the drinks were disappearing to.

*********************************************

Child's Post

After a hectic run through winding alleys, Cami reached the establishment known to local dockhands as the Broken Pikestaff. Under her arm, she carried a tray of pastries that she'd rescued from the local delivery boy with the help of a silver coin. Piosenniel's description of the Inn was accurate. In fact, "dicey" might be a more generous term than Cami would use for this dump, with its shady patrons staggering in and out, and a stench that was overbearing.

Cami hesitated before entering the building. Everyone towered over her, sporting an impressive array of weapons. She was counting on a single hope. As hardened as these men appeared, perhaps they wouldn't murder a child in cold blood. And, to their eyes, Gamba and Kesha, and even Cami, were just that--two boys out on a drinking spree, trying to act ten years older, with their bigger brother coming to find them in the course of his deliveries.

Cami could not see Bird or Pio, but maybe they'd be coming soon. She cautiously approached the rear of the Inn, and crept stealthily inside the kitchen, expecting to find the boys in the next room and make a hasty exit.

As Cami made her way forward without a sound, she heard grating voices coming from the front. She dodged back and waited, trying to figure out what was happening.

"What's this, Jacko? We've caught our thief." The man scooped up Gamba with a massive hand, holding him several inches off the floor. The boy still held an empty flagon of ale and looked quite sheepish.

"Yer right about that! What a scrawny 'un. How'd he put all that away?"

"He's got a helper, all right." The painted woman pointed towards the retreating figure of Kesha still half-hidden beneath his cloak.

"What'll we do with 'em?"

"Let's have some fun. Teach 'em some manners." He wrenched out his dagger and placed the point near Gamba's throat.

Cami stood petrified, uncertain what to do. She could not let this happen. With bravery born of desperation, she swaggered out, holding a dagger in her right hand. She tried to act as if she knew what she was doing.

The Innkeeper glared malevolently, "Another pipsqueak!" He spit on the floor. "We seem to be starting a nursery here. And that one," pointing to Brodda, "is probably with them."

Cami broke out with a string of invective, trying to imitate the Elf in her grimmer moments on the Star. "Leave them alone." she yelped. "They're my brothers. I've come to get them and drag them home. Then they'll get a beating! A real good one." At this point, she glared threateningly at Gamba.

"Sorry mate, these are ours. Now if you had some gold coins....."

"I do," Cami could not keep from shrieking. "I really do! Give me my brothers, and the coins are yours."

"I don't see those coins," the Innkeeper growled. "So maybe we'll turn you upside down and get that gold, and leave you sprawlng on the ground."

"No you won't!" Brodda spoke with quiet authority. "My father is captain in the Guards, and if they get hurt, I swear he'll come here and make you sweat."

There were grumbles and curses all around, but there was something in the way the boy talked that made the Innkeeper put up hi hand to halt the discussion.

"All right, where's the coins?"

Cami looked at the taller boy, and he shook his head yes. She reached into her tunic. It was every penny she had left from her meager inheritance. With this gone, she'd be broke. She put a handful onto the table.

The Innkeeper eyed her suspiciously. "You've got more. Let's see them, or you and your friends will wind up in the alley."

Cami ripped out the last of the coins and set them on the table.

"Now, get out of here. And keep your mouths shut about this."

Gamba mouthed the words 'thank you' to Brodda who nodded his head, coming over to stand by them.

Cami collected the boys, intending to leave quietly through the kitchen to avoid the unfriendly mob that congregated ahead. Gamba was still talking with the Innkeeper, pointing towards the things he'd brought in with him, which had somehow ended up on top of the bar. Cami tried several times to tug on the boy's sleeve to lead him away, but he continued talking. At one point, she leaned over and whispered, "Leave those things be. We need to got out of here. Worse will be coming." But Gamba stubbornly continued to talk.

[ December 13, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]