10 – Aftermath by Asprin, Robert

“She didn’t know how to do that before,” said Samlor, as much an explanation to himself as one directed toward the other man. “She picks things up.”

“I see,” said Khamwas, and maybe he did. “Well.”

He shook himself, to settle his cape and to settle himself in his resolve. “Well, Master Samtor,” the Napatan continued, “I must be on.” He nodded past Samlor toward the head of the alley.

“Not that way,” said the caravan master wryly, though he did not move again to block the other man.

“Yes, it is,” Khamwas replied with a touch of astringence. He stiffened to his full height. The manikin on his shoulder mimicked the posture, perhaps in irony. ‘The direction of Setios’s house is precisely”-he ex- tended his arm at an angle toward Samlor; hesitated with his eyes turned inward; and corrected the line a little further to the right-“this way. And this passage is the nearest route to the way I need to follow.”

“Do not do a thing you have not first considered carefully,” Tjainufi suddenly warned.

The caravan master began to chuckle. He clapped a hand in a friendly fashion on Khamwas’s left shoulder. “Nearest route to having your head stuck on a pole, I’d judge,” he said. The Napatan felt as fine-boned as he looked, but there was a decent layer of muscle between the skeleton and the soft fabric of his cape.

“Look,” Samlor continued, “d’ye mean to tell me you don’t know where in the city Setios lives, you’re just walking through the place in the straightest line your . . . friends, I suppose, tell you is the way to Se- tios? Are these the same friends who gave you wisdom?” The caravan master nodded toward Tjainufi.