THE IRONLANE DETECTIVE
Copyright ©2012 by Paul F Witham
November in South Eyros
The following innocuous exchange took place a long time after the events which make up the greater part of this chapter. It happened once the two had got to know each other better. They were in a pub; not a low dive but a popular drinking hole serving a community of millworkers. Hobarsson was angling down the last measure of his pint, gulping and sweating. Not a pleasant sight.
Taraedein was watching him and he wasn’t besotted. There was tobacco smoke all around and a lot of friendly noise. Hobarsson focussed in on the gentle act of positioning his empty pot on the circular table. The table was cluttered; brimming ashtrays and drained glasses. There was workplace-oriented ribaldry and general buzz and laughter all around. He was warmed with the effect of the three previously consumed pints. He felt like he was home, but he wasn’t. Far from it.
Hobarsson had to raise his voice louder than he would have liked.