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

look this way before. The big man looked … stupid.

Also impatient. “Throde!”

Throde jerked as if awakening, and headed for the back room with his unused

broom. The whole night had been truly unique, a succession of new experiences

adding new knowledge to Throde’s store. It had not ceased. No woman had ever

stayed behind this way, not both sober and clothed. And saying absolutely

nothing; she was merely … being here. Nor had Ahdio ever behaved in such a

way. Throde had often thought that his huge, tough and yet kind employer should

have a woman; even women, in the plural. Yet he had never envisioned such a

woman as this; never dreamed that she might be such a beauty as this veiled-as

this now unveiled lady.

He set the broom in its place and made sure the back door was locked as well as

barred. Then he swung his big hairy cloak about himself, pausing only long

enough to lift the hood and close the clasp. Taking his staff, he headed for the

front door. He walked between the man and the woman without looking at either,

but noticed nevertheless that they remained as if frozen in place, gazing at

each other in silence. As he reached the hanging before the door, a new thought

struck him and he turned back.

“Ahdio? You’re … all right?”

“Of course. And you be careful, Throde.” Ahdio spoke without looking at him. He

stood as if in shock, thunder-struck.

“Uh.” And, still nervous and going motherly, the youth said, “uh, don’t-don’t,

uh, forget to lock the door after me, Ahdio.”

“Good night, Throde.”

Throde departed, pulling the door securely shut behind him.