The ticking of a clock echoed throughout a darkened tavern, signalling the inexorable march of time. A scrawny young boy of fifteen years observed the tavern’s main room with a discerning eye from his post behind a large walnut panelled bar. Everything was spotless. Not even a speck of dust had been missed in the most hard to reach corners. Tables were set, and the chrome taps that provided both warm and cold ales gleamed in the evening light.

  Everything was ready for opening. Except for one thing. The boy turned his gaze to the large grandfather clock in the hallway. A lithe man stood before it, alternating his gaze between the clock’s face and the pocket watch in his hand, muttering to himself. He was immaculately dressed, in a silk waistcoat and a white collared long sleeved shirt. His jet black trousers were freshly pressed, and not a strand of his grey, thinning hair was out of place. He shifted his wire rimmed spectacles higher onto his nose and sighed.

  “Elverad, are you sure you wound it this morning?” the old man asked.

  Elverad Arbaca suppressed a sigh. Among his other eccentricities, Vermand Mantas, the proprietor of the Whole Hog Tavern, was a fastidious man, almost to a fault. Something as minor as an improperly positioned table setting was enough to send the old man into a tizzy. Many found working for him unbearable, but the old man paid handsomely, and the work was simple enough once you got used to his foibles.

  “Yes, Mister Vermand. Exactly twelve times at eight am, precisely, just like I have every morning since working here,” he said as brightly as he could manage.

  Vermand furrowed his brow. “This can’t be right. My timepieces are out of sync by twelve seconds. Twelve! How on earth could this have happened?”

  Elverad swallowed a snide remark. He had only worked here for six months but knew that the old man was deeply distressed by the discrepancy. He forced a polite smile. “Should I fetch your tools?”

  The boy held his breath until Vermand eventually shook his head. “No, it’s too close to opening time.”

  Elverad breathed a sigh of relief. Vermand Mantas was fastidious to a fault, and it wouldn’t have surprised the boy if he’d closed the tavern to tear his clock apart in order to discover why it was running slow, and much like every other business in town, if the tavern didn’t open, the staff didn’t get paid.

  “No,” Vermand continued. “Let’s give it another hour or two, to see which one of these clocks isn’t running properly. Perhaps I should get a third…”

  Elverad shook his head. Clocks were precision instruments and incredibly expensive. Besides, being a few seconds off wasn’t the end of the world. No one seemed to care that the grand clock set at the top of the town hall was off by three full minutes. No one, that was, except Vermand Mantas, who would launch into a lengthy tirade every time he walked past.

  “So, are we opening?” Elverad jumped when he heard Teo’s voice in his ear.

  Teofania Helfrad was a year younger than Elverad and had worked in the Whole Hog Tavern for three years. She moved like a ghost and seemed to delight in sneaking up on the boy and catching him by surprise. She wore a simple but clean blue dress and had her shoulder length brown hair in a neat queue.

  “Miraculously, it looks like we are,” he replied as nonchalantly as possible, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing him react to her sudden appearance.

  “Ah, that’s a relief,” she breathed.

  Elverad heard the inflection in her voice and whirled around to face her. “What did you do?”

  She fluttered her long eyelashes at him innocently before replying. “Me? Nothing.”

  Elverad narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What do you know?”

  The girl looked over at Vermand, who was still muttering to himself as he looked between his pocket watch and the clock before turning back to Elverad. “Mister Tomas slowed the hallway clock with his hand yesterday. He has a bet with some of the other patrons on how long it would take Mister Vermand to notice.”

  “And what’s your part in all this?” Elverad ventured.

  “Nothing,” Teo replied with an innocent smile. “All I get out of this is our guest’s satisfaction, which as Mister Vermand has often told us is job number one.”

  “How much did they pay you to keep this quiet?” Elverad demanded.

  Teo’s eyebrows shot up indignantly. “What makes you think…”

  “Your share of tonight’s takings buys my silence,” Elverad whispered, not believing her act for a second.

  The girl’s eyes widened. “Why…”

  Her protests were silenced by the ringing of a bell. It was the bell that hung above the tavern’s main door which announced the arrival of guests. Elverad frowned. The Whole Hogs’ patrons were mostly local and knew well enough that opening time wasn’t for another ten minutes, and not a second before.

  Moments later, a man appeared in the hallway. He wore a stained travelling cloak, and its hood was pulled low over his face, obscuring his features. The newcomer was tall, and he had to stoop as he walked to prevent his head from bumping against the ceiling, and broad at the shoulder. He towered over Vermand, who hadn’t noticed his arrival and was almost twice as broad at the shoulder. His shoes were filthy, tracking mud over the previously spotless floor.

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  Elverad looked over at Teo and felt his temper flare when he saw that the girl had disappeared. He then cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir, I’m afraid we won’t open for another ten minutes.”

  Vermand turned around and jumped when he realized the newcomer was looming over him. The stranger’s head dropped as he looked the proprietor in the eye.

  “Vermand Vermand,” the stranger’s voice was low and soft. “Your services are required.”

  The lithe old man stared wide-eyed at the stranger, and Elverad wondered if he should run out the back for help. Would that mean he was abandoning the old Mister Vermand in his time of distress? He couldn’t think of any meaningful intervention he could make should things get violent. Elverad glanced over his shoulder and peered into the kitchen, wondering if Teo had the sense to summon help. He bit back a curse. The barmaid was adept at looking after herself, but unreliable when it came to doing the right thing to help others.

  Then, Elverad remembered what his boss kept hidden under the bar. Vermand had given him strict instructions to never use it unless in dire need, and the boy could see circumstances becoming very dire indeed. He reached under the bar and a bead of sweat rolled down his cheek when his fingers touched cold steel.

  “Ingram?” Vermand gasped. “Ingram, is that you?”

  The figure nodded his head slightly, and Elverad moved his hand away from the weapon but remained poised to grab it if necessary

  “It’s been years!” Vermand cried.

  “I’m not here for a reunion,” the man said brusquely. “The boss is in trouble. The whole band is gathering in Lucentum. Or what’s left of us is, anyway.”

  “Wait, I don’t understand,” the old innkeeper began.

  “It’s all hands on deck, Vermand,” Ingram said. “We need to be there in three days.”

  Elverad watched the colour drain from his boss’ face. The old man pressed his lips into a thin line that quivered before he spoke. “I have a business, Ingram.”

  Vermand’s voice was soft, and Elverad had to strain his ears to hear. “I can’t just up and leave. People are counting on me.”

  “The boss is counting on you!” Ingram roared. “You owe him a debt, we all do!”

  “That’s enough!” Elverad cried, pointing the old blunderbuss at the stranger. “I don’t know what your business is here, sir, but you must leave!”

  The stranger turned towards Elverad, and his eyes caught the evening light. They were the colour of steel and looked just as hard. “And what if I don’t?”

  The man’s voice was quiet now, but there was an undercurrent of fury in it that sent a chill down Elverad’s spine. The boy’s mouth was dry, and it took him a moment to speak. “Or I’ll blow you away!”

  “We both know Vermand is too careful to keep a loaded gun under his counter,” the mountain of a man scoffed. “But I promise you this. If you pull that trigger, I’ll rip your head right off your scrawny neck with my bare hands.”

  “Leave!” Elverad bellowed at the top of his lungs in the hopes that someone outside might hear and investigate. “I’ll do it!”

  The man darted towards him. It seemed impossible for a man his size to move that quickly, and he closed the gap between them in the blink of an eye. Elverad pulled the trigger and heard a loud click as the gun’s hammer struck home, followed by nothing… The man was right after all. He dodged to the side and tore the weapon out of Elverad’s hands. The boy looked up and saw murder in the man’s eyes but glared at him defiantly.

  Elverad was sure the man would bring the weapon down on him, crushing his skull, but to his surprise, Ingram carelessly tossed the weapon aside before turning around to face Vermand.

  “Your employee is a brave one, willing to risk his life for his boss without hesitating,” the tall man remarked. “You could learn a thing or two from him… And what’s the use of keeping a weapon close at hand if you’re not going to keep it ready for action?”

  “We… we have cut ties…” Vermand stammered. “All of us did…”

  “Everything you have, this happy retirement of yours and so much more,” Ingram said, looking around the tavern pointedly. “You owe it all to the Captain, and you know it. You cannot turn your back on him in his time of need.”

  “What has happened to him?” Vermand asked.

  Just then, the bell on top of the door tinkled, announcing a new visitor. Elverad’s heart sank when the small rotund figure of Mister Tanbor, the butcher waddled in. He wouldn’t be of much use in a fight.

  “I heard shouting,” Tanbor said. “Is everything alright?”

  “Just old friends excited to see one another,” Ingram said as he stepped past the butcher. “I’ll be going on ahead. Remember, be at Lucentum in three days.”

  The bell tinkled again, and as suddenly as he had arrived, Ingram was gone. The footprints and the weapon that had been cast to the ground were the only signs that he had ever been in the tavern, leaving bewilderment and fear in his wake.

  “What was that about?” Tanbor asked, scratching his head as both he and Vermand stared at the door.

  “Has he gone?” Elverad jumped when Teo appeared beside him again.

  “Where were you?” he demanded.

  “Hiding,” she replied without an ounce of shame. “You didn’t expect me to be of use in a fight against a brute like him, did you?”

  “You could have at least gone for help!” Elverad exclaimed.

  Teo gave him a blank look before breaking into a toothy smile. “I suppose I forgot in the heat of the moment. Panic and all that. That man was so scary.”

  “If the two of you are quite done,” Vermand said, placing the blunderbuss Ingram had tossed earlier onto the bar. “Teofania, if you would be so kind as to clean up that mess in the hallway, we are opening in five minutes.”

  “We are?” Elverad and Teo asked in unison.

  “Of course we are,” Vermand said. “The good people of Noggle’s Watch are likely already on their way here.”

  “I just thought…” Elverad began while Teo fled to fetch a brush and bucket.

  “Oh, Tanbor? I sent him away, though I doubt he will have gone far,” Vermand said. “Opening time is at six and not a minute earlier, as I’ve often said.”

  “No, I meant your… friend?” Elverad said.

  A shadow crossed Vermand’s face but only for an instant. The old innkeeper waved his hand in front of his face as though to dispel a bad odour. “Oh, Ingram? Don’t worry about him. I very much doubt you’ll be seeing him again.”

  “But what about you?” Elverad pressed. “Are you…”

  Vermand broke into a faint smile. “Going to close up shop to go off galivanting on a grand adventure?”

  Elverad gave his boss an expectant look, and at length, the old innkeeper shook his head. “Perish the thought. I’m far too old. Besides, I’m a pillar of the community, providing an important service to the good people of Noggle’s Watch. Not to mention the two youths who depend on me for their livelihoods. These are all responsibilities that I will not shirk lightly.”

  Before Elverad could bombard him with more questions, Vermand clapped his hands together. “Now then, our first guest will soon be here, so please return that ghastly weapon to its place and wipe the bar, it’s positively covered in grime.”

  As he took the blunderbuss, Elverad cast a discerning eye on the bar and found that it was spotless. When he looked up, Vermand had already disappeared into the kitchen.