He said, “At the bar.”
“Hmm?” She cocked her head on one side and tried to look sweet.
“Go to the counter, tell Ahdio I’m buying you one, and to look this way. I will nod.”
“Nice man! Be right back.”
“No. I drink here, you there.”
“Oh.”
Without further comment aside from a shrug that imparted massive movement to her blouse, she jiggled back to the counter. Strick saw her point, saw the big mail coated man look at him. Strick held up one finger and nodded. So did the big man in the coat of linked chain. A moment later Ouleh was making expostulatory noises and gestures while Ahdio headed for the comer table, bearing a blue glazed mug. Strick heard the jing-jing of the armor as the other large man approached.
Is he the focus? Strick could not be sure. He read three separate spells in this place. Two involved Ahdio’s assistants, the extra-homely woman and the young fellow with the limp. The other was in back, and seemed to have to do with an
animal.
Someone called, “Takin’ that poor innocent stranger another mug o’ cat-pee,
Ahdio?”
“Nah,” the dive’s proprietor called back, turning his head that way. “Sweetboy
Special is what’s in your cup, Tervy. Newcomers get the good stuff.” Arrived at
Strick’s table, he went on in a lower voice: “Ouleh said you said you’d buy her one and would nod to prove it. Overhung Ouleh’s an old friend and this place’s favorite blowze, but for all I know she told you to nod hello to me when I looked this way. Brought you one, though.”
Strick decided to stand. Patrons stared. They seldom saw a man as big as