Pool of Radiance by James M. Ward, Jane Cooper Hong

why he was staring,” Tarl assured her. “He didn’t seem to be trying to be rude or unmannerly. In fact, he went out of his way to be polite and took a big chance of offending that warrior and his comrades.”
    “That’s for sure. I hope he doesn’t turn his back on those fellows tonight.” Shal took her first spoonful of the chowder and realized after having a second that she was famished. Tarl did likewise, and the two forgot about conversation and began to eat heartily.
    When Ren finally brought out the beef pies and refills of the pitchers of ale ordered by the table of fighters, they complained bluntly about his service. Under ordinary circumstances, Ren probably would have apologized and tried to do something to make amends, but on this night, he wasn’t even paying attention. Instead, he was staring once again at Shal. He set the plates down on one end of the table, making no attempt to match orders. And when he started pouring the ale, he accidentally overfilled one of the cups, sloshing ale in the laps of the customer.
    “What do you think you’re doing, you clumsy oaf?” the warrior blurted angrily.
    “I’m awfully sorry. Here,” said Ren, handing the man a bar rag. “I’ve got to find out her name.” he muttered, as if to himself.
    Ren turned on his heels and strode to the table where Shal and Tarl remained seated. Behind him, the fighters were sputtering angrily, but Ren neither saw nor heard them. He was staring down again at the woman who so startlingly resembled his lost love. “May I know your name?”
    Shal didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed behind him. Ren didn’t react, but Tarl did. From the corner of his eye he had been watching Ren ever since he first approached the warriors. When Ren spilled the ale and walked away, Tarl knew there was going to be trouble. “Dagger!” shouted Tarl, and he rushed past Ren and tackled the approaching fighter.
    Ren spun around to confront the three other men who had been sitting at the table. Normally Ren would have tried to maneuver in such a way that he only had to face one man at a time, but he didn’t want any of these rabble getting anywhere close to the woman behind him. He spread his bearlike arms as wide as they would go and plowed forward, taking all three men to the floor with him.
    Sot heard the noise of the fight before he saw what was happening. “Not another fight!” he muttered to no one in particular. “Used to be a scuffle in a tavern was no big deal, but now the town council sends the Watch Guards out to break it up. A guy can lose customers that way.” He grabbed his club and leaped over the bar. Unfortunately, he landed hard on the foot of a customer who was making his way toward the center of the action. Sot learned the hard way that it is almost impossible to apologize with a cudgel in your hand, and in moments the entire inn had joined the fray.
    Shal watched as Tarl expertly administered a chop to the neck of the man with the dagger and sent him reeling. Quickly he followed up to finish the job, while Ren was wrestling with two of the warriors he had knocked to the floor. The third was up and was about to kick Ren in the spleen, but Shal leaped into the action and pushed him hard from behind, screaming, “Leave him alone!” The man fell full belly onto a table of food and immediately began to be pummeled by several people who had been calmly attempting to eat despite the fracas.
    “Hey! What do you know?” said Shal, looking down at her hands. “Being strong has some advantages after all!”
    “You all right, Shal?” asked Tarl, pausing after fending off still another brawler with a well-placed kick.
    “So the name is Shal, is it?” Ren shouted as he pushed one of the warriors toward a boisterous knot of fighters that had formed near the center of the room. “Do you have any relatives in Waterdeep?”
    “No,” called Shal above the din. “Why do you ask?”
    At this point, five fighters advanced toward the