“That so?” The seated man made no attempt to hide his scepticism.

“Well, it’ll do for the time being,” Hawkwood said evenly.

Stagg’s right eyebrow rose. He stared hard at the two men, calculating whether or not they constituted a threat. Deciding they didn’t – at least not immediately – he said in a gravelled voice, “So? You want somethin’?”

“We’re looking for a passage north.”

“Are you? An’ what makes you think I give a rat’s ass?”

Hawkwood ignored the riposte. He knew it was Stagg’s way of letting them know who was king of the castle.

“We arrived too late for the ferry. When we asked around for any captains preparing to depart who might be willing to take on a couple of passengers, your name was mentioned.”

“Was it now?” Stagg’s expression changed from irritation at having his supper interrupted to instant suspicion. “An’ who by?”

“Sorry, can’t help you there; didn’t catch the fellow’s name. We were in one of the other taverns. Not even sure which one now.”

Stagg’s gaze flickered past Hawkwood and round the edge of the booth, probing the taproom’s darker nooks. His eyes narrowed as they alighted on the pot-man who’d served Hawkwood and Lawrence, and who was moving furtively towards the kitchen with a tray of leftovers and dirty plates. Watching until the pot-man had disappeared from view, he turned back. “Sorry, Mr … Smith, was it? ’Fraid you were misinformed.”

“That’s a pity.” Hawkwood shared a glance with Lawrence and shrugged. “Looks like we’ll have to take our business elsewhere.”

He’d chosen the word on purpose. “Business” suggested there was money to be made. He watched as a spark of interest glowed briefly in the other man’s eyes.

Lawrence, who had been watching for it, too, said quickly: “Allow us to stand you a drink anyway, Captain. Call it recompense for disturbing you. It’s the least we can do.”

Stagg hesitated.

Come on, Hawkwood thought. Come on.

Stagg considered the offer for all of two more heartbeats before tipping back his head and draining his glass in a single swallow. “I’ll take a whiskey.”

Catching the eye of a passing servant girl, Lawrence pointed to Stagg’s empty glass and held up three fingers.

The girl glanced towards Stagg, as if seeking his approval. Stagg nodded obliquely. As she picked up the glass along with the dirty plate and cutlery, Hawkwood and Lawrence slid into the booth and took their seats.

Hawkwood waited a couple of seconds before leaning forward. “If you can’t help us, Captain, is there anyone you can recommend? We’d make it worth their while.”

They fell silent as the girl returned. Setting the fresh glasses down, she looked hesitantly in Stagg’s direction. “Will there be anything else?”

“Aye,” Stagg said. “You can tell Cooter I’ll be wanting a word with him later.”