Hanse, should the two meet. And about a certain blind man who had found his way without aid into the Unicorn and out again, with Hanse in tow... a blind man and no beggar, for all his looks - but a man of darker rumour.
It was curious business, and more than mildly unpleasant. Cappen was not sanguine. Hanse stalking Vis - it was quite unlikely. Hanse was all temper and bluster. If anyone was doing the stalking it was likeliest to be Vis, and Hanse was ill-advised to have prodded that surly-countenanced bastard ... far more trouble than Hanse really wanted, that was sure. Likely it was Hanse in hiding, if Vis had not yet got him. Cappen picked up his cup again, and of a sudden his eyes hooded and while his hand carrying his cup to his lips never faltered, the sip he took was slow and studied: he watched a second man make attempt on the lady's table.
And that was Mradhon Vis himself... who went up quietly, and met no rebuff at all. The lady lifted her face and her eyes to him - a face certainly worth a song, although a dark and sombre one. And when her eyes lit on Mradhon Vis, very quietly the lady got to her feet and in Vis's still silent company... walked towards the back door of the tavern. Only a few heads turned, of those at the other tables, and those only casually. There was at the same time the faintest ofpricklings at Cappen's nape, a feeling he knew: he touched the amulet at his throat, a silver coiled serpent... a gift, a protection against spells, more efficacious than most priest-blessed gimcrack tokens .... under its own terms. He saw, with a touch of unease the greater because no one else in the room seemed to see ... how Mradhon Vis and his dark companion moved, with common purpose and peculiar menace.
Strangeness enough progressed in Sanctuary ... deaths which made a man naturally think on protections of the sorcerous kind, and to be glad of them if he had them, because where the powerful died, wizardry was about, selective of its victims thus far, but not - perhaps - exclusive of them. There was Sjekso Kinzan, who had been no one. Cappen wondered did such protection as he possessed
... protect or mark him; and as the lady and Mradhon Vis came past his table by the door A moment Cappen was looking up and the lady looked down at him, more familiar in that stare than he would have liked. The prickling about the amulet became strong indeed while he stared, lost in those dark eyes with a sense of deadly peril, of his whole life resting loose and endangered, as if some small nudge on anyone's pan might tumble it. 'You're beautiful,' he murmured, because three truths was the rule of the amulet if it was to work at all - 'You're dangerous and foreign here.'
She lingered, and reaching down picked up his cup where it sat; lilted it, sipped and set it down again, all with an eerie hint of humour or menace flaunted at him, at him who alone in the room but Mradhon Vis - or was he exempt? - Alone of all the others,
Cappen stared back at her with his mind clear and with knowledge, with something gut-wrenching telling him that everything about this woman was askew. She smiled at him, a parting of the lips on white teeth, a flash of dark eyes, an impression that she admired what she saw... and all the fineness he kept so studiously, his elegance, different from others about him, his talents, his - if streetwom - finery ... was suddenly perilous to him, marking him out among all the rest. And most of all... she knew he resisted her. She left then, swept out of the door which Mradhon Vis held open, a gust of wind and a sudden thud of the door closing. Cappen wanted wine... but his hand stopped short of the cup she had just set down again, the metal she had had her lips to and the wine her mouth had tasted. He pushed back from the table and the bench scraped loudly over the noise of the other patrons. He hesitated, looking at the door which led out to the backways, not wanting to go out there, in the gathering dark.
But
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