### 88

You leave the ship and walk across the quayside to the Good Cheer Inn. It is an old timber-framed tavern which looks deserted at this early hour. A bell tinkles as you push open its heavy door, attracting the attention of a doe-eyed innkeeper who is mopping last night’s spilt ale from the floor. You ask if he has seen Captain Raker.

‘You must be the journeyman who’s sailing south.’ The answer comes from the top of a staircase, Moments later a broad-shouldered man with a golden beard and sharp blue eyes comes striding down the stairs. ‘I’m Raker,’ he says, as he struggles to pull on his leather jerkin and fix the belt of his heavy-bladed cutlass. ‘Hey, Squin. Go rustle me up some grub. I’m so hungry m’stomach thinks m’throat’s been cut.’

As the innkeeper goes away to fetch breakfast for the captain, he asks if you want some food as well. After having ridden all night without once stopping, you answer: ‘I’ll have whatever the captain’s having.’

‘Good man!’ booms Raker. ‘I ain’t fond of eating alone. Here, let’s sit ourselves down and fill our bellies before we set sail.’

Turn to 127.