He had the satisfaction of seeing the stranger's eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. "You speak Shou," he replied in the same language.

"A little bit," Tycho told him modestly. "You aren't the only traveler here. I had the pleasure of spending some time in the Shou town of Telflamm in Thesk and learned your language there."

The stranger nodded. "Ah," he said. He looked directly at Tycho. "That would explain why you speak it like a lisping whore from Ch'ing Tung."

Blood rushed to Tycho's face. He opened his mouth, a stinging insult rising to his lips, but Muire cut him off before he could deliver it. "Your ale, sir," she said, setting a tankard down before the Shou-and one before Tycho as well, foamy, thick, and hastily drawn. "And yours." The Shou man picked up his tankard and nodded to her. When Tycho reached for his own, though, Muire gave the tankard a shove that sent foam slopping onto his hand and sleeve.

"Let it go," she hissed. "I don't know what you're saying to him, but I can read faces as well as anyone."

"Muire-"

"I've had enough trouble tonight. Apologize to him!"

Growling, Tycho took a deep swig of ale and glanced over at the Shou. The man seemed to have forgotten him already. He was scanning the crowd of the tavern, holding his ale but not actually drinking it. There was a look of deep intensity on his face. Though any number of the Ease's patrons were staring at him, he didn't appear to make eye contact with any of them. Lost in his own haughty world, Tycho thought balefully. He gulped some more ale-and swallowed his pride with it. He leaned over toward the Shou. The man's gaze snapped back to him immediately with the experience of a trained fighter. Tycho realized that he held his tankard in his left hand. One swift move would have his right around the grip of his saber. Tycho stayed still, as if absolutely nothing were wrong. "I'm sorry if my feeble attempts at Shou have offended you, sir." In spite of the stranger's insult, he stuck with the language. "My name is Tychoben Arisaenn, but everyone calls me Tycho. May I know your name? "

The Shou's mouth twitched into a narrow frown. "My surname is Kuang and my personal name is Li Chien and if you insist on addressing me again, you will go to the gates of the afterlife with that name upon your lips."

This time, Tycho actually choked. Heckling, even dismissal-those were one thing. He could deal with them.

He had dealt with them, in taverns all around the Sea of Fallen Stars from Spandeliyon to Suzail, Procampur to Arrabar, and back again. Blunt intimidation, on the other hand, was something else. His jaw clenched. "You might want to have a care, Master Kuang. Threats aren't taken lightly around here."

"That's wise," the Shou replied. "A man should take seriously every threat made to him-as well as every threat that he makes himself."

Both of his hands were still, right open to seize his blade, left steady and ready to toss his tankard. Tycho had been through enough tavern brawls to recognize the body language. Behind him, he heard Muire curse quietly. "Tycho…" she said with low warning.

Her words seemed to echo. The Wench's Ease had suddenly grown quiet, Tycho realized, the hint of violence drawing every eye. Tycho ignored both Muire and the stares of the crowd. "What do you want here, Master Kuang?" he asked, abandoning attempts at Shou. "If you want trouble, you didn't have to travel so far."

The change in language seemed to give the stranger pause. He blinked and his frown grew deeper as he noticed the attention of the crowd as well. He straightened up and looked out at all of the Ease's patrons.

"I am looking for a man," he announced in his thick accent. "A man who was a pirate."

Tycho's lips curved up and he snickered-then laughed. So did the crowd. For the second time that night, laughter washed through the Ease. Unlike the first time, however, there wasn't anything good-natured about it. Tycho gave the Shou a thin smile. "Master Kuang, have you heard of Aglarond? It's the country to the northeast of Altumbel. Its ruler is the Simbul. The Witch-Queen. She doesn't like pirates and she doesn't have much mercy for the ones that she catches off her coasts. There have been a lot of pirates recently who decided it would be better if they were to stay away from Aglarond and take up a more peaceful profession. Like fishing. In Spandeliyon."

He nodded out to the crowd. A good number of the Ease's patrons-a very large number-opened their mouths in gap-toothed grins.

The Shou said nothing. Tycho wondered if the man had followed what he had just said. "Master Kuang?"

"I understand," the Shou said narrowly. He stood stiff and said in words that sounded carefully practiced, "The man I'm looking for is a one-eyed hin-a halfling-who was mate on a ship called the Sow. His name-then-was Brin."

Laughter died instantly. Grins disappeared. Even Ty cho felt his anger drain away. "Master Kuang…"

Kuang Li Chien gave him a sharp glare. To the crowd, he said, "I will reward anyone who takes me to Brin. I have business with him."

For a moment, no one moved. Then a chair scraped back. "I'll take you to Brin," called a voice.

Lander stood up.

Breath caught in Tycho's throat. He glanced at the Shou. The man was giving Lander a measured look that turned into a curt nod. "Very well." He twisted around and set his tankard, still full, on the bar. As he picked up his saber, Tycho caught his eye and tried to give him a slight shake of his head, a silent warning. Kuang Li Chien just pressed his lips together and turned away. "I will give you the reward when we find Brin," he said to Lander.

"Fair enough." Lander adjusted his mantle and walked over to the door. A box beside it held cheap torches for patrons who needed them. Lander flipped a coin into the box and took one, holding it over a candle to light it. In only a moment, the torch was burning and a wreath of smoke surrounded Lander. He opened the door. Cold air and snow gusted inside. "After you," he said.

"No," insisted Kuang Li Chien, "I will follow you." Lander shrugged and stepped out into the night. The Shou followed him without a backward glance.

The door slammed shut on a silent tavern. No one said anything-at least none of the Ease's regular patrons. At the table Lander had just abandoned, his men began snickering and jostling each other as they rushed to drain their tankards. After a few long moments, they rose and walked out the door as well. Once they were gone, Tycho blew out a long breath. "Bind me," he murmured. He lifted his tankard to his lips, gulped the bitter ale, and turned around to glance at Muire. Her face was hard. Both of them looked at the Shou's untouched tankard. "Dead man's ale, Muire," Tycho said.

The tavern keeper took the tankard and dumped the ale inside into a slop bucket. Tycho nodded and turned back around. Throughout the Ease, conversation was muted as people dived deep into their ale. Tycho pulled his strilling back up to his shoulder and put bow to string. Music rippled out, bringing sound back into the tavern and pushing away memory of the Shou's brief, ill-fated visit.