Chapter ONE - Weebly

tavern. But no one stopped him or offered a word of
greeting. Ethan paused just inside the door, shook the
rain off his coat like a hound, and then descended the
stairs to the basement.
Halfway down, the smells reached him: pipe smoke
and musty ale, roasted meat and freshly baked bread.
Ethan paused at the bottom of the stairs. A fire burned
in a large stone hearth on the far side of the room and
candles flickered on every table. Light and shadows
danced capriciously along the uneven wood planking on
the floor and the dingy walls. A few men stood at the
bar, mugs of ale in their hands. Ethan had heard
conversations while coming down to the pub, but all of
them ceased when he walked in. The men simply stared
at him, their expressions far from welcoming.
Ethan stared back. Up on the street, in the light of
day, he had considered this a fine idea. Down here in
the inconstant gloom, he was having second thoughts.
“My name is Ethan Kaille,” he finally said. “I want to
speak with those who led the demonstrations of three
nights past.”
At first, no one answered. But then a single figure