Thieves World 7 – The Dead of Winter by Asprin, Robert

I’d have fewer fights and shouting matches if you did, he mused, but said, “Just

looking for the thunderbolt, after that oath of yours. Anyhow. First, here. You

take this cup of qualis, on ole Ahdio. Second: Spread the word as I said. Third,

and this is the secret now, Man-killer: The reason is that’s my … lady. She

just came here to see me. You can understand that I have to watch out for her.

Here’s your wine, dear. Start helping me out, all right?”

“Ohh, Ahdio! Reeeeally? Your la-oh, Ahdio, you devil! And here I’ve had my cap

set on you for years!”

Why am I doing this for some slumming stranger who may well be a Bey, come to

spy on us with an Ilsigi sell-out, he demanded of himself, and said, “Sure, sure

you have. You don’t even have a cap.”

She gripped the nice goblet with one hand and the rim of her bodice with the

other. “No? What d’you call this?” She whipped the blouse down below the salient

of her leftward mountain, held it there for two or three beats, and flipped it

up over her nipple again. Then she swung away, laughing.

Briefly closing his eyes while he shook his head, Ahdio filled another goblet

with that best of wines and topped off the mug for Wints, the head having

subsided. He headed for the table against the wall, his scintillant coat

jingling softly. Just as he passed a regular named or rather called Weasel,

Ahdio heard his loud conversation topper: “In a pig’s ass!”

“Someone call for my special sausage?” Ahdio called en passant, and went on,

ahead of a wake of laughter.

He set wine and beer before the strange couple, and noted the coins on the