“Come,” Saint German spoke near her ear so that she could hear him over the loud music and noise. “You will be safe. I assure you. Nothing shall happen to you while you are in my company.”
Zofia allowed him to escort her through the doors and into the low-beamed ceiling of the tavern. Energetic strains from a violin, a guitar and a squeezbox brought the decibels just over the tolerable level, enjoined by the voices of possibly in excess of twenty or thirty people clamoring for more drinks, laughing or dancing and whooping it up.
Typical of the Ugwump type establishments, drinks were drawn into tankards, wine in wine glasses with short stems. Serving it all up were overly made-up barmaids, who kept their chemises down off their shoulders, and tight-fitting bodices loose, and the lengths o
