and returned with his broom, a reminder that could not be overlooked. Sweetboy
meandered into the main room, yawning, glancing hopefully at the bar. More
people straggled out. Ahdio helped one. Throde helped one. The last two,
companions, rose. They hoisted their mugs to Ahdio and then to the woman whose
face or even hair they had never seen, and drained their cups. With considerable
pride, both departed without support.
“Not right out in front now, boys!” Ahdio called after them.
Looking a little nervous, teeth worrying his lip, Throde watched both men all
the way out the door.
Ahdiovizun stared at the veiled lady. Throde looked at her, at Ahdio. Who knew
where she was looking, under hood and behind veil?
“My lady …” Ahdio began, and broke off as she rose to her feet.
He and Throde stared as she tossed back her hood, then unclasped the cloak, and
with one hand pulled her veil straight out until it dropped free. Her hand fell
to her side, carrying the veil. She said nothing. Neither did Ahdio. He stared,
mouth open. He dropped one big hand to the back of a chair as if he needed
support.
“Not,” he said in a very low voice, “possible!”
“Oh,” Throde said, with feeling, as he looked upon the most beautiful woman he
had ever beheld.
The unveiled lady gazed at him while he and Throde stared at her. She said
nothing.
“Throde,” Ahdio said, and his voice sounded funny to his helper, “let’s leave
the tables and sweeping up till tomorrow. Go ahead home, and don’t forget to be
careful out there tonight.”
Swallowing hard, looking at him, Throde stood blinking. He had never seen Ahdio