Ludo remembered his promise to Bryony. “Best behavior,” he muttered, before heading down the row.

The next sign he encountered read “THE BLIND PIG. FREE ALE”, in big red letters. He stopped, raising his eyebrows. From the outside, the place seemed quiet, the large double windows shuttered. With an advertisement like that on the sign, the place should be jumping with customers. The free ale is probably piss-water, he thought. Then, of course, he headed straight for the door.

He was about to reach for the handle when it opened ahead of him, a figure silhouetted by yellow lanternlight blocking his way. He might’ve been a child considering his stature, if not for the impressive beard that was revealed when he stepped forward into the gray light of dusk. The dwarf’s thick mop of hair and beard were plaited in several places. Two of the beard braids were then curved up and twined together with two of the hair vines, like a frame for his face. Tufts of fur grew from the top of each ear, just enough to be dangerous. “Welcome to The Blind Pig,” the dwarf said gruffly. “Yer me first customer o’ the night. Thas one better’n last night. I’m Welbernius Brown, the humble proprietor. I’m pleased ta make yer acquaintance, Mister…”

“Just call me Ludo. And the pleasure is all mine.”

“Ah, a true gentleman! Bless me lucky stars. The Scribe has penned me story well tonight. What a delight! A true delight! Come in, man, come in!”

Ludo entered at the dwarf’s invitation, inspecting the interior while his host closed the door behind him. It was an unusual joint, each hexagonal table elevated by a platform requiring the mounting of two full steps to reach.

“Sit anywheres,” Welbernius said, waving a pudgy hand across his body. True to his name, he wore a long brown frock that, on a woman, could only be called a dress. He was constantly having to shove it away from his feet as it dragged on the floor, gathering dust. “Are ye expectin’ comp’ny?”

“No. I’m alone,” Ludo said, skipping the middle step entirely as he climbed up to a table. He dragged one of the chairs back, careful not to pull it off the platform, and then settled down, feeling every mile they’d conquered in the ache in his knees and back.

“Excellent!” the dwarf said, as if the lack of additional business was just the news he’d been hoping for. Ludo was still trying to gain the measure of his host but had failed thus far. He seemed excited, delighted even, by almost anything Ludo said. “Can I gitcha some free ale?”

“Is there a better kind I can pay for?” he asked, already dreading whatever bitter concoction the small-statured man would serve him.

“Better? Yer funny! I serve only one kind o’ ale, an’ I’m curtain ye’ll not find its equal in all o’ Slough, dare I say the world!”

“Don’t you mean ‘certain’?”