That got their attention. She reached into her purse, drew out another handful of coins. Not bothering to look at them or judge their value, she threw them over her shoulder, all but one which she placed on the board. It was a gleaming soldat.
“I’m betting somebody here knows how to contact him,” she said, still addressing
Mama Becho, well aware that everyone could hear. “And when he walks through that door I’ll scatter another fistful of coins.”
“An’ what if we jus’ take yer spark, lady?” said a lean, twisted man who squatted in a gloomy comer against the wall. He fingered one of the silver pieces that had fallen his way.
“Shet up yer mouth, Haggit,” Mama Becho snapped. “Can’tcha see we got us a fine noblewoman here? Mind yer manners!”
Chenaya cast the soldat to the one called Haggit; he caught it with a deft motion. “I give my gold where and when I see fit. Two who tried to take it are still cooling at the foot of the bridge.” She gave him a hard, penetrating look.
“Now, I want to see Zip, and I’ll pay fairly to find him. Play me any other way,
Haggit-” Chenaya winked at him and nodded her head “-and you’ll do all the paying.”
Haggit glared at her for a long moment, bit into the soldat with his front tooth, then rose and went out. One by one all the other customers drifted out, too. Not one of Chenaya’s coins remained on the floor.
“Now ye’ve scared away my business,” Mama Becho complained. She still scoured the same mug with the same filthy rag. “Might as well get comfy, honey.” She waved at the cloth-covered furniture that served in place of stools and tables.