Masha looked behind her. The hall was still empty. But what if the mage had
ordered a meal to be delivered soon?
She told Smhee what she’d just thought. After a brief consultation, they went
back down the stairs to the hall. There they got an exquisitely silver-chased
tray and put some small painted dishes and gold pitchers on it. These they
covered with a golden cloth, the worth of which was a thousand times more than
Masha could make if she worked as dentist and midwife until she was a hundred
years old.
With this assemblage, which they hoped would look like a late supper tray, they
went to the hall. Masha had said that if the mage was with a sexual partner, it
would look more authentic if they carried two trays. But even before Smhee
voiced his objections, she had thought that he had to have his hands free.
Besides, one tray clattering on the floor was bad enough, though its impact
would be softened by the thick rug.
The guard seemed half-asleep, but the dog, rising to its feet and growling,
fully awakened him. He turned towards them, though not without a glance at the
other end of the hall first. Masha, in front of Smhee, walked as if she had a
right to be there. The guard held the spear pointing at them in one hand and
said something in his harsh back-of-the-throat speech.
Smhee uttered a string of nonsense syllables in a low but equally harsh voice.
The guard said something. And then Masha stepped to one side, dropping the tray.
She bent over, muttering something guttural, as if she were apologizing for her