'Avoid the Green Ghost,' warned the man. 'It's a place of trouble and violence. The Swallow is a good tavern, and they give a man a fine breakfast.'

Bane thanked him, and asked directions. As he was doing so Banouin came riding up.

A short time later the two men were strolling through a packed marketplace, and heading up a wending hill path towards a group of buildings set round an open square. The first of the buildings, the Green Ghost tavern, was large, around a hundred feet long, with two storeys under a thatched roof. Several men were sitting in the fading sunshine outside, nursing pottery jugs of ale. They looked up as the newcomers approached.

'Just what we needed, now the women have run out,' said one, a sour-faced individual, his face seamed with dark coal scars. 'Two pretty boys fresh from the farm.'

Bane paused and laughed. 'Look, Banouin,' he said brightly. 'There's a sight you don't see very often – a man who can fart through his mouth.' He crouched down in front of the miner, and dipped his finger into the man's ale. Then he licked it. 'Good ale,' he said. The man's eyes opened wide. Bane laughed at him, then rose smoothly and moved inside the tavern. There were some thirty long bench tables, most of them filled by burly men, spooning stew or drinking ale.

'I don't like this place,' whispered Banouin.

'This is the Green Ghost. It was highly recommended,' said Bane. 'You are too judgmental.' He wandered to the rear of the dining room, where a fat, balding man was wiping the bar with a dirty cloth.

'You have a room for the night?' asked Bane.

'We always have rooms,' said the fat man.

'What about women?'

The man shook his head. 'All taken. You'll have to make do with Dame Wrist and her five little daughters. The room will cost you a half silver. In advance.'

'Friendly place, isn't it?' Bane observed to Banouin. 'Aren't you glad you came?'

Banouin sighed.

'You want the room or not?' said the fat man.

At that moment there was the sound of breaking crockery. Bane turned to see a young woman standing over three broken jugs, her thin woollen skirt stained with ale. The fat man stormed around the bar and rushed over to the girl. 'You stupid clumsy cow!' he shouted.

'One of the men grabbed me,' she told him.

His meaty hand slapped across her face, knocking her sideways. She fell against a table.