“Hai, Ahdio ole handsome … who’s the one in the veil and hood, hmmm?”
“Get your things off the bar,” he said, grinning, and she chuckled dutifully at
their old joke. Instead she ground herself down on it, wagging her shoulders, so
that the things he mentioned were pushed above her low blouse in great
outrounding moonshapes to her collarbones. He leaned toward her
conspiratorially, keeping his gaze on her face.
“My cousin from Twand,” he said quietly. “For all the gods’ sakes and mine,
don’t ask her about her face or twit her either.”
“That ugly, huh?”
“I can’t answer that, Ouleh. Just be good and tell your friends, all right?”
“Me? Be good? Oh, Ahdio! Qualis and Red Gold ‘stead of True Blue Brew for them,
hmmm? Didn’t know you had moneyed relatives, bigun, in Twand or anyplace else.”
She flashed him a teasing smile; Ouleh was good at that. “I’ve got me an idea
that we’re being treated to a visit by the mysterious Veiled Lady just
everybody’s talking about! Your cousin, Ahdio?”
Ahdio gazed at her, blinking. The mysterious veiled lady everyone was talking
about? In that case, why hadn’t he heard about her? True, it seemed not the sort
of gossip that interested his patrons. They tended to talk about their work, to
damn anyone with authority or wealth, to talk about who was doing what with and
to whom, and who was going to get into whom, how and when, and who was going to
get into Ouleh next. He glanced past her at the two newcomers over there,
waiting for him to bring their order. His patrons’ favorite breasty blowze had