draped over the broken furniture. None offered a protest as
Jon-Tom and Mudge began to search the still intact chests
and drawers.
One .yielded Mudge’s longbow and arrows, another
Jon-Tom’s ramwood fighting staff. There was no sign of
the full purse Clothahump had given him, nor did he
expect to find it. Mudge was more disappointed than his
companion at the absence of the gold.
“Bloody bedamned stinkin’ thieves,” he mumbled, ig-
noring the fact that he’d lifted a purse or two in his own
time.
“Be quiet.” Jon-Tom led him up the next flight of
stairs. “From the way you’re carrying on, you’d think this
was the first time you’d ever been penniless.”
“I’m not sayin’ that, mate,” replied Mudge, putting a
leash on his lamentations, “but when I gets friendly with a
bit o’ gold or silver and it ups and disappears on me, I feel
as if I’ve lost a good friend. The loss strikes me to the
quick.”
“One of these days it’d be nice to see you get so
emotional over something besides money.”
“You do me an injustice, mate.” Mudge carried his bow
THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
59
in front of him, a hunting arrow notched and ready to fire.
If the fates were kind they’d give him one clear shot at
Chenelska or his bullyboys. Nothing would please him
more than to be able to give the coati the shaft.
“You want emotional?” he continued as they climbed.
“You should’ve seen me at Madam Lorsha’s.”
“I’m talking about honest emotion, about caring. Not
lust.”
“Cor, you mean there’s a difference?”
The third landing was the last. They emerged into a