Velaquo and Belomas
Two hours later the mismatched companions entered the Lazy Stag, and looked about. Same smells as in the harbor, Velaquo noted, scrunching his nose in disdain.
The two were half-starved after eating little but tack and salt pork aboard the Shy Maiden.
They got a table and ordered more food than necessary. Lamprey pies, and roasted venison, and turnips, and onions, and two different kinds of cheeses, and crispy sausages besides.
Half-way through the meal, a sheepish looking man approached, more than a commoner it seemed, less than a knight.
"Er--Maester" he addressed Belomas. "I have a rash...down there. I--not sure, can you--" He paused to re-gather his thoughts.
"Can you look?" He was properly embarassed at least. "I'm afraid, Maester. My brother said it will turn purple and fall off. Well, its already purple."
Velaquo snorted, and perhaps was about to say something, but then froze, and glared intently across the packed taproom of the Lazy Stag.
He recognized a man, sitting quietly in the opposite corner, cloaked in shadow, sipping from a goblet, and occasionally smiling at a serving wench, who worked the tables near him. It was Quills, erstwhile paymaster and book-keeper of the Bloody Silks Company.