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She made a final swipe at the tabletop before straightening and leveling a contemplative stare at my face. “Rue.”

“The plant or the feeling?” I asked.

Her eyebrows rose, which I interpreted as surprise. “The plant.”

The tavern keeper emerged from the kitchen to a chorus of greetings from the patrons. Rue backed away from my table with a slight bow. With a final puzzled glance at me, she headed toward the kitchen, taking the most circuitous route to avoid the tavern keeper as he stopped to greet a regular. They exchanged comments about the weather, the cost of meat, and a local scandal.

By all appearances, Master Hobb was a jovial host. At least his patrons thought so. Men raised their faces to greet him with smiles, and the few women in the crowd barely gave him a passing glance.

He paused once or twice to share a jest or listen to a story as he made his way toward my corner. When he reached my table, I stood. He greeted me with a grin.

“You’re a new face around these parts.”

“I heard you were interested in hiring an enforcer.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he studied me. “Who told you that?”

“Master Bedevere mentioned it.”

“Ah, and how do you know the old man?”

“I was his apprentice.” The only one Master Bedevere ever took, as far as I knew. And he hadn’t wanted to take me on.

The tavern keeper frowned in confusion. “So you are a blacksmith?”

I shook my head. “I have many skills, but forge work is not among them.”

“You look intimidating enough, I suppose. I am looking for a grunt, not a craftsman.” Master Hobb’s eyes narrowed. “I would expect you to keep the peace in the public room, haul supplies or water, and work as required all the way to the end of the night. No flirting with the female staff or the customers, and absolutely no stealing. Can you do that?”

I nodded. “How often will you need me?”

“Most nights from early evening until we close. We get a steady stream of customers all day during the festivals.”

The commitment sounded about what I had expected. “Compensation?”

“Two meals and two mugs of cider a night, and a copper flan a week.”

The pay was less than I expected, but the consistent income would be great. The sporadic nature of being a man of all work had been adequate while my mother did washing for the more lucrative households in our little village, but now her health was failing. She needed to slow down and rest more. Which meant I needed steady occupation.

“When do you wish for me to arrive each night?”

“Before the dinner rush is adequate as long as you don’t mind interrupting your meal to do your duty.”

I nodded slightly. “That I could do.” It was far less strenuous work than I’d had of late. I would have to increase the intensity of my training sessions; possibly, I could take extra jobs on the side and be able to save a bit for the future.

Master Hobb regarded me narrowly. “I will give you a two-week trial starting tonight.” He extended a chunky hand in my direction.

I took it and we shook on the agreement.

“Not another one,” Misha whined as she approached from behind Master Hobb. “They eat more than their weight in bread and do nothing except sit like a bump on a log.”

She dropped a shallow, earthenware bowl on the tabletop in front of me, causing the furniture to list slightly on its uneven legs. I steadied it by resting a few fingers on the table’s edge.

“I suspect Master…” Master Hobb raised his eyebrows at me.

“Kent,” I supplied.

“Master Kent will prove more useful than his predecessors. If he doesn’t, I will make certain Master Bedevere knows of it.”