All of a sudden his heart lurched an extra beat and began to hammer in his
chest, for the man he had been waiting for had just come through the door; and
Mradhon Vis sipped his wine and gave the most blunt disinterested stare that he
gave to all comers, not letting his eyes linger in the least on this young
ruffian, darkhaired, darkskinned, who came here to spend his money. The man came
closer, edged past his back, and sat down at the end of the same table, which
made staring inconvenient. Mradhon feigned disinterest, finished his wine, got
up and walked away through the debris and out the open door, where drinkers and
drunks took the fresher air, leaned on walls or sprawled against them or sat on
the two benches.
So Mradhon took his place, his shoulders to the wall in the shadows, and stood
and stood until his knees were numb, while the traffic came and went in and out
Mama Becho’s door, until soon Tygoth would take up his vigil in the alleyway.
Then the man came out again, reeling a little in satiation-but not that much,
and not lingering among the loiterers by the door.
ii
The quarry passed to the right and Mradhon Vis leaned away from his wall,
stepped over the sprawled legs of a fellow hanger-on and went after the young
man, along the muddy streets and alleyways. The wine had lost its effect on him
in his waiting, but he pretended its influence in his step-he had learned such
strategems in his residency in the Downwind. He knew the • ways thereabouts,
every door, every turning that could take a body out of sight in a moment. He