Helena panted as she exclaimed. “Constable, there's a fight in the Tavern question! Men and women, the Lady’s influence! One of my teammates and Edward are trapped inside!”
The constable, a tall slender man with fair skin, blue eyes, rugged brown hair and a weathered face set his jaw grimly. He stood and grabbed his staffing cloak.
“I feared this. Come. We'll put an end to it.” He motioned to his two deputies who stood and grabbed cudgels from a nearby rack. Together they set off at a brisk march, the lantern light bobbing.
Helena kept pace, her heart pounding, a prayer forming silently on her lips.
The Tavern loomed ahead, the door banging open, a roar of voices spilling into the night. Inside mugs shattered, benches crashed, and shouts of “the Lady!” and “Demons!” filled the air.