“Easy now, Tarkle, that beer’s coming right up,” he said, and turned to continue
barward.
“Ahdio!” a female voice screamed. “Look out!”
At the same time as he reacted by hunching his shoulders and pushing his chin
into his chest, Ahdio glanced in the direction of the cry. He saw the veiled
lady, on her feet and pointing. Meanwhile he was pivoting, spinning, one tree
branch arm straight out from his body. Fortunately only one man was on his feet
behind him: Ahdio’s forearm whacked into the side of Tarkle’s neck. Tarkle went
sideways over his own chair and onto his table. Its other occupants vacated
their chairs with admirable speed even while Tarkle’s wrist banged down on the
table’s edge. His knife vacated his fist. Throde’s foot was on it before
Tarkle’s head whacked the table and bounced. While he was still disconcerted and
seeing bright lights before his eyes, a huge hand closed on the back of his neck
and hoisted him onto his feet. Never mind his watery legs; Ahdio walked him to
the door. Along the way his other hand dropped to come up with another man.
“Gawk! Here! I didn’t do nothin’!”
“Sure you did,” Ahdio advised him in an equable voice. “You started this hothead
off by yanking the hem of my cousin’s boy’s brand-new tunic. And a lovely good
night to you both,” he said, thrusting them out the door back-to-back with a
twist and thrust of his arms. “Sorry, boys. Don’t even think of coming back in
tonight, mind.”
“You-you sumbitch-“
“Yes, yes,” Ahdio said, turning back into the doorway; “I never thought much of