Hanse showed him a couple, knowing this lover of knives would con- sider both of them exotic because they were of foreign manufacture. “The really fancy one was a gift from the head mage up in Firaqa, a man named Arcala.”
“Hmp! Never knew you to stay around a mage long enough to receive a gift! Hard to imagine, from a fellow who hates sorcery worse than anybody!” Cholly said, admiring it and the other knife Hanse handed him, a normal enough sticker. He examined both with the respect and care of a man who knew knives. “Nice,” he said, laying them down. “Here, look at this pretty thing while I finish the job on your old knife.” He placed in Hanse’s hand a dagger whose blade was inlaid with silver.
Sensing trade negotiations, Hanse naturally found it necessary to de- mean the seeming treasure. “Uh. Pretty,” he said casually. “I’ll bet this fancy inlay weakens the blade, though.”
Sensing an impending trade, Cholly snorted and made a chuckling noise to show Hanse how silly that was. It was also subject-changing time:
“Ah yes, this is good now, Hanse- Dry-tack’s a really good bonder. I’m proud of it. It won’t stick to slippery surfaces, see, like wax or grease. Or soap. On the other hand it’s easy to peel it off smooth, polished surfaces.”
“In that case how can it be strong enough for a knife I need to trust?”
“I said ‘peel’ it off, Hanse. Pulling it off, breaking the bond-that’s another matter. Believe me, I could glue a handle onto a horse’s back and lift him by it. If I could lift a horse, I mean. It’s strong.”