"I'm looking for a woman," Ian said.
When he had opened the door, the wind had blown the misting rain like a curtain in to the public room of the small inn. The gust disturbed the even draw of the chimney, so that black smoke from the peat fire on the hearth swirled out ward in to the room. It mingled with the white that came from the clay pipes of the men who sat at the table in the centre of the room, a game of draughts before them.
"There be no women here."
The player who had spoken was not the oldest, but he was undoubtedly the largest. And it was obvious by his readiness to answer a stranger's question that he was in some fashion might be their leader. Ian addressed his explanation directly to him.
"The woman I am looking for is my ward. She was kidnapped and brought north. I have followed her abductor's progress through the changing of his teams.
