The Dead of Winter- - Thieves World 07 by Robert Asprin, Lynn Abbey
Authors: Robert Asprin, Lynn Abbey
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, adventure, Fantasy, Science Fiction - General, Fiction - Science Fiction, Short Stories, Fantasy Fiction; American, Fantasy - General, Fantastic fiction; American
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necessarily large X. Ahdio immediately looked ceilingward. "What's the matter, Ah-dio? Can't look? Want me to start wearing loose robes to the chin?" 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 table. He smiled at the invisible face that, judging from the angle of the hood, seemed to be looking up at him. "In this place, those who put coins on the table are running a tab. Unless you think you're just going to have one and run." There. That would get a few words from the woman who had eased coin onto the table while no one was looking.
Wrong. Wints looked at his companion/employer a moment, then up at the huge man looming over their table and occluding an immoderate number of tables. "Thanks, taverner. We'll be here awhile. My lady would like to know why you wear that chain-coat."
Ahdio shook his arm to emphasize the jing-jing of the mail that covered him from collarbone to wristbone and to a point just below his loins. "For effect," he said with an easy smile. "Ambience? A conversation piece. A little added color in a place I can't afford to fancy up much."
Wints glanced at the veiled lady and gave the taverner a knowing grin. "With the price of a coat of good butted chainmail being what it is? You sure that's the reason?"
Ahdio shrugged, jing-jing. "Maybe I wear it for the same reason a soldier does in battle. This is a tough dive with me as proprietor, bartender and bouncer. Maybe I'd be dead or full of scars by now if I didn't wear these forty-seven pounds of linked steel."
Wints's grin broadened and just as he started to laugh, Ahdio heard the first sound from the man's companion: a nascent chuckle swiftly drowned by his full laugh.
"Hey, Ahdio, you still sellin' ale around here?" Ahdio swung away from the strangers. "Ale! In this place? Glayph, you wouldn't know ale if I poured some in your ear! Want another mug of junk beer?"
"Junk beer's right," another man said, as Ahdio moved that way. "Is it true you've got that beer-drinkin' demon-cat you keep back there trained to take his leaks in the kegs?"
"No," Ahdio said with an easy grin, "just in the qualis." When the laughter subsided, he made his face serious and added, "But I'll tell you this. I accused my brewer of that, just this afternoon. I also put him on notice that I'm lookin' around for another supplier. I am. All right, how many?"
"Two for me; I just got here. Is it true that's your girl over there, Ahdio, all bundled up?"
"My
"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 table. He smiled at the invisible face that, judging from the angle of the hood, seemed to be looking up at him. "In this place, those who put coins on the table are running a tab. Unless you think you're just going to have one and run." There. That would get a few words from the woman who had eased coin onto the table while no one was looking.
Wrong. Wints looked at his companion/employer a moment, then up at the huge man looming over their table and occluding an immoderate number of tables. "Thanks, taverner. We'll be here awhile. My lady would like to know why you wear that chain-coat."
Ahdio shook his arm to emphasize the jing-jing of the mail that covered him from collarbone to wristbone and to a point just below his loins. "For effect," he said with an easy smile. "Ambience? A conversation piece. A little added color in a place I can't afford to fancy up much."
Wints glanced at the veiled lady and gave the taverner a knowing grin. "With the price of a coat of good butted chainmail being what it is? You sure that's the reason?"
Ahdio shrugged, jing-jing. "Maybe I wear it for the same reason a soldier does in battle. This is a tough dive with me as proprietor, bartender and bouncer. Maybe I'd be dead or full of scars by now if I didn't wear these forty-seven pounds of linked steel."
Wints's grin broadened and just as he started to laugh, Ahdio heard the first sound from the man's companion: a nascent chuckle swiftly drowned by his full laugh.
"Hey, Ahdio, you still sellin' ale around here?" Ahdio swung away from the strangers. "Ale! In this place? Glayph, you wouldn't know ale if I poured some in your ear! Want another mug of junk beer?"
"Junk beer's right," another man said, as Ahdio moved that way. "Is it true you've got that beer-drinkin' demon-cat you keep back there trained to take his leaks in the kegs?"
"No," Ahdio said with an easy grin, "just in the qualis." When the laughter subsided, he made his face serious and added, "But I'll tell you this. I accused my brewer of that, just this afternoon. I also put him on notice that I'm lookin' around for another supplier. I am. All right, how many?"
"Two for me; I just got here. Is it true that's your girl over there, Ahdio, all bundled up?"
"My
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