Chapter IV
A man walked into small, dank tavern not far from the bank of the Sava. He took an old, worn-looking wide brimmed hat from his head and gave it a hard shake that caused rain water to fly about around him. Placing the hat back on his head and pulling the brim down low to hide a sharp and weathered face, he took a moment to take in the scene before him. The tavern was full of rough looking men, most already drunk despite the early hour. His arrival seemed to have attracted little notice, and those that were focusing on the stranger rather than their drinks or card games quickly found something else to occupy their attention when his hard gaze fell upon them.
The man moved from the entrance and began crossing the dirty floor toward a corner table occupied by two men. As he walked the smell unwashed bodies, cheap liquor, and urine struck him with full force. He ignored it. He had encountered such smells and worse in many places like this. His kind of places. He reached the corner table and stopped to look down at the two men sitting on opposite sides of it. They looked up at him with dull expressions and glassy eyes. The men, clearly drunk, each sported ruined-looking noses and gnarled hands. They were men used to hard living and most men would have exercised great caution when speaking to them, assuming that they had the nerve to speak to them at all. The stranger was not most men. He twisted his features into a snarl and growled, "This is my table."
A long silence stretched between the three as the drunks regarded the stranger with looks of equal parts bemusement and aggression. Finally one of them asked, "S'that right?"
The stranger nodded and slowly reached his hand inside the long jacket he was wearing, making sure to displace it enough to clearly show the knife hanging from his side. When he withdrew his hand it held several coins which he threw onto the table. The drunks took their eyes from him to watch the coins clank down while the stranger said, "Go and buy yourselves another round. Just make sure to drink it somewhere else."
The drunks looked from him to the money on the table, seeming to be weighing their options as best as their minds were able given their current condition. They seemed to come to some sort of silent agreement and each snatched the money from the table and moved off toward the bar. The stranger moved around the table and placed one of the chairs so that it's back was in the corner before sitting down. A short and very fat serving woman wearing a filthy dress and apron appeared at the table and asked what his pleasure was. She put special emphasis on the word "pleasure" and smiled as she said it while leaning in close to give him a look at her ample cleavage. He studied her for a moment. She had a round, red face framed by filthy blond hair. Her breath was rotten and her smile revealed a mouth full of stained teeth. Leaning in as close as she was, it was impossible for him not to notice a decidedly sour smell that seemed to hang about her like a cloud. He took his eyes from her and ordered a beer in a terse voice that clearly indicated a lack of interest. The barmaid gave an angry sniff before moving away and returning soon after with a filthy glass full of weak-looking beer. She slammed the glass down hard enough to cause some of the contents to slosh over the top and gave him a venomous look before going to check on the other tables nearby. The stranger picked up the glass and pondered it for a moment. He had angered her quite a bit and it was generally not wise to anger your server in places like this. Hoping that all she'd done was spit in his drink, he took a pull from the glass. The beer tasted as bad as it looked. Still, it wasn't the worst he'd ever had.
He spent the next few minutes slowly drinking his beer while keeping watch on the other patrons until a newcomer walked through the door of the tavern. He could not have looked more out of place. His clothes were fine and looked brand new and expensive. His shoes were highly polished and his hair, which became visible after he removed an ornate looking hat, was meticulously styled. Every eye was upon him in an instant and the stranger knew that everyone in the place was thinking about how to separate the dandy from his purse. Most of the scenarios being imagined no doubt ended with the dandy lying in an alley with his throat cut.
The dandy stood in the entrance, seemingly oblivious to the attention he was attracting, and looked from one side of the room to the other. His eyes settled on the stranger sitting in the corner and he moved quickly over to him. He looked down at the stranger and asked, "Are you the man that I am to meet?"
The stranger gave a tight nod of his head and replied, "I am."
The dandy smiled and dropped into a chair across from him. The stranger rolled his eyes and shook his head imperceptibly. The dandy clearly had no idea how these things were done. He had no way of knowing if he truly was the man he was supposed to meet and assumed that he was simply because he said so. Luckily for the dandy, it just so happened that he was. The dandy extended a hand across the table and said, "A pleasure to meet you, Mr....?"
The stranger ignored the hand and the question. He hardly ever gave a name to anyone, and when he did it was the wrong one anyway. After his hand had hung there for several seconds, the dandy let it drop down onto the table. The barmaid reappeared and the stranger ordered two more beers which were brought with slightly less vehemence than the first. No doubt she expected a nice tip from the newcomer. Maybe she hadn't even bothered to spit in his beer. The dandy eyed the dirty glass as if afraid it would bite him and the stranger barked in a low voice, "Drink it and smile. You're already attracting enough attention with that outfit."
The dandy looked down at himself and asked, "What's wrong with my clothes?"
"Look around you.", replied the stranger. "You stand out in here like a Muslim at Mass. You were specifically told to be inconspicuous."
The dandy coughed in embarrassment and sipped at his beer. To his credit, he almost managed to keep a look of disgust off of his face. The stranger said, "We have to make this quick. If this meeting hasn’t been reported yet, it soon will be. I, for one, intend to be long gone from here by the time anyone comes to investigate."
The dandy nodded and cast furtive glances around him. In a low voice he said, "I was told that you have a message for us."
The stranger nodded and said, "My superiors have directed me to report that our government pledges full diplomatic and military support to your cause in the event that your movement comes to blows with the current authority."
"I see.", said the dandy. "And do you have a written message? Something other than your word that I can take back to my superiors?"
The stranger stood and said through clenched teeth, "My word is more than good enough for you. What’s more is that it’s all you’re going to get."
He moved to leave, but the dandy reached out and grabbed hold of his arm. The stranger tore himself from the other man’s grasp and growled, "Put your hands on me again and I’ll forget that I’m supposed to be polite." The dandy shrunk back from his rage as he went on, "Just make sure that your people remember not to act until we give you the go ahead. Act too soon and the deal is off and you’ll be own your own. Got it?" The dandy nodded his understanding and the stranger left the tavern.
Once outside he took several steps toward an alley that ran along the side of the tavern. A man of medium height with a long, drooping mustache appeared from the shadows and the stranger said, "Make sure that fool doesn’t get killed on his way out."
The man nodded and slipped back into the shadows as the stranger walked off up the street.
