The tavern, on the other hand, was not all she had hoped. When they passed down to the far end of town, they found a small two-story building tucked back against a few trees toward the base of the short peninsula.

Dingy, weatherworn, and possibly in need of a new roof, the sight made Magiere hesitant to step inside. The outer walls looked old and hadn't been re-stained in years, turning mottled brown and gray from years of weather wear in salt air. At least the shutters were still intact. One of them banged softly against a window in the light breeze. Leesil stepped forward and touched the wood next to the entrance.

"It's quite solid," he said excitedly. "Wonderful. A bit of stain, a few shingles…"

"What did the previous owner call it?" Magiere asked Ellinwood.

"I don't think he ever gave it a name. Folks just called it Dunction's."

"Why did he sell it?"

The constable puckered his lips. "Sell it? He didn't sell it. He just ran off and left it one night when no one was watching. I suppose he didn't own it outright, because I received formal notice from a bank in Bela that they'd reassumed possession. It was all in order."

"The owner ran off?" Magiere asked. "Was business that bad?"

"No, this place was filled to the brim every night. The dockworkers and bargemen have missed it fierce. So have I, to be honest." He rapped his knuckles once on the door before opening it. "Caleb?" he called. "You home? New owners are here."

Ellinwood didn't wait for an answer and opened the door to step inside, waving Magiere and Leesil after him. Chap slipped in last before the door could shut. With pleasant surprise, Magiere found the inside much better cared for than the outside. The wood floor was swept and clean, if a little worn. To the right in the main area, respectable-looking tables were positioned to fit as many as possible, with room enough for the passage of serving staff handing out tankards and bottles. A huge stone fireplace, large enough to crouch in, dominated the end of the room beyond the tables, offering warmth and a welcome.

The bar on the left was long and made of stout oak turned dark and shiny from years of polishing and the oil of patrons' hands as they leaned their way through the evenings. Behind its far end was a curtained doorway that probably led to the household kitchen or stockroom, and beside it was a stairway leading up to the second floor where the living quarters would be.

Overall, the inside was far better than Magiere had hoped. As little as she had paid for it, she'd wondered some nights what she could expect sight unseen. And for some reason she couldn't explain, the hearth was more important to her than anything else. It was sound and looked strong.

"This is perfect," Leesil said, as if he didn't quite believe it. He moved past her, turning around in amazement, running his slim hand over a table as he walked through the room right up to the hearth Magiere was still eyeing. "I'll set up the faro game by the front window nearest the fire. We might have to sacrifice a table or two to make room."

She suddenly noted he had not directed one word or acknowledgment in Ellinwood's direction.

Hearing footsteps, she turned toward the staircase. Descending slowly were an old, stooped man, an old woman, and a little blond girl about five or six years old.

"Oh, there you are, Caleb," Ellinwood said, rubbing his hands, apparently deciding his business here was finished. "These are the new owners. I must get back to work."

He bid Magiere a good day, ignored Leesil, and left.

Uncertain of exactly what was going on, Magiere turned back to the old couple and child. The old man was half a head taller than her, with straight ashen hair pulled back at his neck. His face was wrinkled but smooth of expression, his eyes dark brown and steady. He wore a plain muslin shirt that matched his wife's tan skirt, both clean as the well-swept floor. The old woman was tiny as a sparrow, her hair pulled up in a neat bun.

"We're the caretakers," Caleb said upon seeing Magiere's bewilderment. "This is my wife, Beth-rae, and my granddaughter, Rose."

Chap trotted over to the old lady, who pulled the little girl out of the way. The dog's ears popped up straight as he looked at tiny Rose, his nose reaching out little by little, sniffing, until the child held out a tentative hand.

As a rule, Chap didn't like being petted by anyone but Leesil, and Magiere tensed, ready to reach out and jerk the dog back by the scruff if he growled. But Chap licked at the small fingers and the child giggled as his tail began to switch. Magiere experienced a wave of instant good will toward these three that washed away the bad taste Ellinwood had left.

"Oh, look, Caleb." Beth-rae brushed back a loose strand of gray hair. "They have a dog. Isn't he beautiful?" She leaned down and scratched Chap gently behind the ear. Chap whined with pleasure and pushed his great head into her side.

"He's a dear thing, but fierce, too. I can tell," Beth-rae said. "It will be good to have him standing guard."

Little Rose thumped both her hands across Chap's back and laughed.

"His name's Chap," Leesil said, also puzzled by the dog's unusual friendliness with strangers.

"Come to the kitchen, Chap," Beth-rae said. "We'll find you some cold mutton. But don't get too accustomed. It's fish for us most days."

As Beth-rae and Rose and Chap left the room, Magiere again looked at Caleb as if to question his presence.

"We're the caretakers," he repeated, meeting her gaze. "When Master Dunction disappeared, the constable commissioned the bank in Bela to keep us on until the place could be sold."

While wondering about Caleb's use of the term "disappeared," Magiere turned her attention to a new dilemma.

"Do all three of you live here?"

Leesil came over to join her. "Of course, they live here. Who do you think has been keeping the place up?"

Magiere crossed her arms, shifting from one foot to the other. Taking on a tavern was one thing; supporting a family of three she'd just met was another. Leesil must have read the expression on her face, for he cut in before she could speak.

"We're going to need help anyway," he said. "If you're running the bar and I'm running the games, who's going to serve and cook and keep the place up?"

He had a point. Magiere hadn't given much thought to food, but most patrons coming in for ale would probably want to eat as well.

"What did Dunction serve?" she asked Caleb.

"Simple fare. When the place was still open, Beth-rae baked bread all morning, then cooked different types of stew or fish chowder. She's good with herbs and spices." He paused. "Come upstairs, and I'll show you the living quarters."

Although his tone remained casual, Magiere sensed a cautious tension in the old caretaker, as if there was more going on here than he indicated.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, following him up the staircase.

"Nine years," he answered. "Rose has been with us since my daughter… left us."

"Left you?" Leesil asked. Then he muttered under his breath, "Seems like people keep leaving this place."

Caleb didn't respond. Magiere held her tongue as well. The old man's affairs were none of her business.

The upper floor was as well tended as the lower. The top of the stairs emptied into the center of a short, narrow hallway. First Caleb showed her a large bedroom at the left end of the hall, somewhere above the common room downstairs, and proclaimed it to be hers. There was another room for Leesil at the midpoint of the hall, just across from the stairs, and a third small room at the right end of the hall. The last had likely been used for storage or other purposes. There was a sagging bed tucked into the corner, two pillows at its head, and a little mat on the floor.