"Up in Maidenhead Wood, other side of the desert," Strick told him. "A day or two this side of Firaqa. They were headed there."

"They were? You know, I've never even met anyone from up there. You just arrive, Strick? Moving to Sanctuary? Got a place to stay?"

"Aye."

Ahdio grinned. "All three. All right. I won't ask any more. Thanks again. You're not staying here in the Maze?"

"No."

"Thought not. The cat look all right?"

"Large and well-fed. Stared at me the whole time we locked."

"That's Notable!" Ahdio nodded, beaming. "Uh-Strick. Because you bought Ouleh one, Avenestra will be over here next. She's a mighty unhappy little girl, and taking too much mouth from too many of the boys here. You did Hanse and me a favor. Wish you'd do her one. They'd leave her alone when she's with a man as big as you-who is also an old war crony of mine," he added, with a new grin. "Maybe just talk with her a while, or just let her talk. She's all right. Mixed up pretty bad. A round for you both is on me."

"All right. Give her what she wants and suggest that she bring it over here with a mug of something weak for me. Ahdio: any men in here looking for work? Anybody you trust?"

Ahdio smiled. "That narrows the choices! What kind of work? Beg pardon, but you look like a weapon-man to me."

"No. Need a guard, when I open a shop. And a-oh, a lackey who knows Sanctuary and can look and act decent."

"I'll give it some thought and tell you later, Strick. Oh- and thanks, for all of it. The girl too, I mean."

Strick nodded.

Ahdio returned to the counter. Strick didn't see what he did, but a few moments later a girl-this one really was, an angular girl in her mid-teens-was moving toward his table. Her black singlet fitted her like a coat of paint above a violet skirt slit up both sides to her big black belt. Looked as if she had a waist measurement to match her age and a chest maybe eight inches larger. She bore two mugs. Someone said something she didn't like and someone else slapped her bottom and that quickly she turned to dump the contents of one of the mugs down his front. Men laughed, but not that one, and two big men converged on the trouble spot.

The man in the soaked tunic, on his feet with his hand raised to slap her less intimately but more painfully, glanced up to his left. Massive chest and scintillant mail, chin at a level with his eyebrows. Then up to his right. Big broad chest and arms in an undyed tunic big enough to fit him twice, and a chin on a level with his eyelashes. The butt-slapper sat down.

"When a girl wants her tail slapped, Saz, that's one thing. When you know she doesn't, that's another. You want to stay?"

Saz nodded. Ahdio nodded. "Throde! Saz needs one, and so does my old war crony oh no! Now Avvie, damn it, why'd you go and do that? You have two mugs-why'd you have to throw the qualis on him 'stead of the beer?"

That brought more laughter, while both Saz and Avenestra kept their heads down. Ahdio said something, and Strick did, and the girl went to sit with Ahdio's old war crony.

Conversation began slowly. He knew at once that Avenestra was unhappy and defensive. She kept darting curious/ suspicious looks at him from black eyes under jet brows that indicated her hair had help in being gold-blond. She glugged her qualis, set the cup down rather sharply, and stared at him. He signed for more. It came. He told her little and said none of the things a male might be expected to say to a female in her apparent profession. He asked questions and shrugged when she didn't answer or was evasive. He even said "Sorry; not prying," a couple of times, and he did not ask her age. He studied her, but looked away when she acted uncomfortable. He did leam that Avenestra was infatuated with Ahdio, and that the homely woman was his wife. Never mind his age; he'd been kind to Avenestra. She told Strick what qualis was and assured him he would like it; she offered him a taste. He shook his head and she knocked back the expensive wine. He signed for another round.

Avenestra put her gaunt-faced head on one side. "You trying to get me drunk?"

"No. You had your limit?"

"You rich?"

He shook his head. "Are you an orphan, Avenestra?"

Her eyes clouded. "How'd you know? Oh, Ahdio told you!"

"No. If I'd known I wouldn't have asked, believe me."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because you know you can and because I don't want a damned thing from you."

"Huh! That's a first."

He said nothing and neither did she. She drank and let him see that her cup was empty. He looked at the empty mug, looked at her, and signed for another. Again she put her head on one side and gave him that dark, dark suspicious look.

"You're hardly drinkin' anyth' but you keep or'erin' f'me. You sure you not tryina get me drunk?"

"Do you need help?"

Avenestra put her head down and wept for the next ten minutes.

Strick sat silently. He did not touch her. Ahdio's wife came, but Strick raised a finger to his lips. He gave her money. "Tell Ahdio to tell Cusharlain." She did not understand, but gave him his difference and went away. Good woman, spell or no, Strick thought, while Avenestra kept weeping. After another five or eight minutes she raised her head, looking horrible and pitiful. She watched him thrust a big hand down into the outsize neck of his tunic and come out with a white cloth. He handed it to her.

"Wha'm I sposed to do wi' this?"

"Wipe your eyes and face, and blow."

She sat staring, blinking, oozing kohl from her eyes. Then she wiped her face and eyes, and blew. She looked at the kerchief and shook her head.

"Avenestra: let's go."

"Wan' 'nother cup first."

"If you have another qualis you won't be able to go."

"So?" She made a feisty face and used a matching voice: "You said you didn't want anything from me."

"So you'll be here, drunk and unable to wock, and then what?"

She didn't have to translate his "wock" to "walk." She wept for ten more minutes. After that, they left. Ahdio watched. His fingers were crossed.

The Golden Lizard was hardly golden and hardly comparable to the Golden Oasis, but it was not a hole and aye, a room was available. No eyebrow was raised when Strick laid down coins for two days and three candles, and took a candle and a silent Avenestra, her legs almost functioning, upstairs. He was careful to secure the door and inspect the window. He turned to the girl slouching unprettily on the edge of the bed.

"Avenestra, I want you to give me something."

"Uh-huh. How you wan' it?"

"No, I mean an object. Something of yours. A coin. Anything."

"Huh! Think you're that good? You give me someth'."

He handed her a silver coin. "That's yours. I want nothing fork."

She stared at it, held it up closer, stared, and slid off the bed. Sitting on the floor, she wept for the next ten or so minutes. When at last she looked up, he bade her use his kerchief. She did. He repeated his request. She stared, head on one side. At last, wriggling loosely, she gave him her broad black belt.

"Thank you." He squatted and put his hands on her narrow and meatless shoulders. "You think fondly of Ahdio as an uncle. Since you have no reason to drink, you just stopped."

"You," she advised, "are so full of shit your blue eyes are turning brown."

Grinning helplessly, he whipped back the tired old spread and inspected the bed. He found nothing alive. He picked up the slumping girl with preposterous ease, and stretched her on the bed. He took off his weapons belt, thinking about the new armband he'd been forced to buy. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall. The candle he set to one side.