Tavern Scuffle

Chairs crashed to the floor as the tavern erupted into chaos. Lyle slipped back out of the tavern. Darius barely had time to duck before a bottle whizzed past his head, shattering against the wall behind him. Elara was already moving, flipping a table to block an incoming swing from one of Marlow’s lackeys.

“We just got here,” she groaned, drawing her daggers. “Can we go one day without a fight?”

Darius parried a punch, shoving his attacker into another. “Apparently not.”

Marlow grinned, flashing his jagged teeth as he stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. “You should’ve stayed at sea, Captain.”

Darius smirked. “You should’ve stayed ugly, Marlow. Oh wait...too late.”

Marlow snarled and lunged. Darius sidestepped, landing a solid punch to his ribs before Elara swept his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard, but before they could finish him off, the barkeep slammed a club against the counter.

“That’s enough!” he barked. “Take this fight outside before I call the guards!”

Darius exchanged a glance with Elara. They had what they needed; Marlow wouldn’t be a problem for a while. Better to leave before things escalated further.

They slipped out the back door, cutting through the alley toward the docks.

“Great,” Elara muttered. “Now we’re out of a place to stay.”

“We’ll manage,” Darius said, pulling a folded parchment from his coat. It was a letter, one that had been slipped into his pocket during the fight. His brow furrowed as he read the unfamiliar script.

Elara peered over his shoulder. “What does this mean?”

Darius shook his head. “I don’t know. But whoever wrote it knew we’d be here.”

The sea breeze carried a chill as they hurried toward the Eagle Parrot, knowing trouble was far from over.

Written for: "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt Words: Write a story that includes the line: “What does this mean?”
Word Count: 294