"Urn." Strick made muttering noises about having to go back and forth from his fancy villa every day, ending with "I'm a man of the people who'd rather live in town."
"Why, I can help you with that," Hanse assured him, all wide-eyed. "Be happy to accept the villa as a gift, Strick." With a wry smile, Strick asked who owned the Vulgar Unicorn. At last Hanse let his wiry form slide down into the chair across the desk from the master of white spells. "Old Earrings' You've asked me something I know. Unless the place has changed hands since I left, the owner's the physician Nadeesh, on the Street of Goldsmiths. Can't miss him. He wears moonstones." Hanse held up two fingers. "Two. Earrings. Stones black as a tax collector's heart."
"Nadeesh the physician," the big man repeated. "Thanks, Hanse. Oh -where are you staying?
Hanse's expression became bland and blank, the business face of the thief called Shadowspawn. "I ... get around, Strick. If you should want me for anything, just leave word at the Vulgar U or at Sly's."
Strick nodded. "Oh, and your young woman-I gave her my amu- let ..."
"Which served her, me, and Firaqa mighty well," Hanse assured him. "Let's, uh, talk about that some other time, all right? I have a young woman with me. Odd that you mentioned Old Earrings, or asked about him-I picked up a nice pair of earrings just last night, as a present for her. Silky. Well, actually her name is Vivispor, but who cares-just a girl I, uh, picked up in Suma."
"You ... 'picked ... up' ... a pair of earrings."
"Right," Hanse said equably, and was hasty to cut off further com- ment or queries with "And I'm fresh out of a cat. You know, I really got accustomed to havin' that damned cat with me. I hate to admit it, but I already miss-oh, No!"
For the second time within a half hour or so, Strick sat gazing at a person on the other side of his worktable who was staring past him in surprise unto shock. Since Hanse did not shriek or reach for one or more of his several weapons, however, Strick refrained from giving another demonstration of his swiftness and the fact that he was armed.
Besides, this visitor soon announced its presence in its own voice; a very low and sweet voice at that:
"mew."
"Damn it. Notable, you sneaked out of Sly's and followed me again! Up the side of the building next door, even!"
So that's how he accomplished his not-so-impossible surprise entry!
"I'm sorry, Strick. C'mere, you dam' cat. He always makes that sick- eningly sweet li'l kitten sound when he hears aggravation in my voice and he thinks he deserves a tongue-lashing. Come ... Here, Note ... able!"
"mew?"
Strick sat very still while the red cat-unduly, unequivocally, and al- most unconscionably large-trotted tippy-toe past him and, an instant after Hanse said "No, Notable!" and started to duck, precipitately ap- peared on the lap of the seated young man's tunic. Hanse grunted and gave the spellwright an unusually, unconditionally, and decidedly un- wontedly subdued and guilty look.
"I'm, uh, sorry, Strick."
"It looks very much as if Notable has decided he is your cat, Hanse, not Ahdio's."
"Aye, I know," Hanse said. His voice was sad, though .his face was not.
"Once a cat makes up its mind ..."
"Alleged mind. Aye, I know. It's just that Ahdio's so damned big ..."
"Urn. Let's hope he's big about understanding, too. Hanse ... listen, I need a favor. Two."
"Uh."
"Take Frax and Wints out and show them how you got in here. Tell them I want them to make any changes necessary to make sure no one can do it again."
"Strick, I swear: no one else could."
Strick sat staring at him in silence until Hanse had to exert his strength to keep from looking down. The expression of wide-eyed innocence that had long served him well with others didn't work with this man. This maker of spells was different. Strick was like ... like no one.
At last Hanse asked, "What's the second favor?"
"Don't ever come in that way again."
"Strick, I swear I won't."
"Good. Thanks. Otherwise, Hanse, good to see you and thanks for the information about this Nadeesh. We must get together and talk again. After hours, and normally."
"Uh." After a time Hanse said, "Damn! You just dismissed me, didn't you?"
"I work days, Hanse. People are waiting."
Hanse gazed at him, his mouth slowly widening. "Strick, you're really something! Let's go, Notable, you dam' cat."
On the way out he saw that Strick hadn't exaggerated: two others sat in the downstairs waiting room. One had the look of a Rankan of sub- stance. Strick sure is doing well by doing good here, Hanse mused, and winked at the icily staring blue-uniformed man with the sword and dag- ger. Ex-palace guard, Hanse was sure. He recognized Wints, too, but pretended not to notice. A shaking sight, Wints decently dressed, shaved, and looking as if he knew who he was!
A few steps down the street called Straight, Notable pacing at his side, he saw still another woman with silver hair. Strick had started this craze? Damn, why? A man never knows whether a woman's dyed, prematurely gray or extraordinarily well preserved!
Avenestra ushered in a well-dressed Rankan noble.
Strick swiftly learned that Noble Abadas was new in Sanctuary; he was cousin to Theron, the new emperor-by-his-own-hand. Noble Abadas was of medium height, perhaps ten pounds overweight, with receding light brown hair and reddish mustache, big ears, and stubby fingers. Superb eyes the color of doeskin met Strick's directly, which was impressive. Abadas was just arrived from Ranke with his daughter and, unusually, a single servant. He wanted a good place to live, he said, and planned to staff with Ilsigi; locals-
Odd Rankan, Strick thought. Seems to be a liberal who wants to show what a good fellow a Rankan can be; particularly the ... agent?-spy? -of the new emperor!
"I have deposited funds with a local banker. You know Renn."
Strick nodded. Renn was one of the two men he banked with, both Ilsigi.
"He showed me around a bit," Abadas said. "I have to say that I saw two places I love, Spellmaster. One, a villa, turns out to be yours!"
"Ah."
By the time Noble Abadas departed Strick's place of business, the two foreigners to Sanctuary had made a business arrangement. Strick was happy to have leased the villa he bought from Izamel (since old Izamel and other wealthy, old-money Ilsigi kindly loaned him the money) to Abadas for an amount that was a shade more than Strick's loan pay- ments and taxes. The current inflation helped; Strick had recently bought the place at what were now called "old rates"; prereconstruction rates! Their deal made both men happy.
Strick called in his man-of-all-tasks.
"Wints, go to Cusharlain. Tell him I am looking for a large place in town, preferably a house I can also use as a shop. All right?"
"Yes sir. Oh, are you-"
"Good. Then go to Gilla Lalo'swife. Ask that good woman whether any of her children or relatives would like good employment with a decent Rankan noble. All right?"
"Yes sir. Sir, I-"
"Aye, I am sure that you know of some prospective servants for the household of the lord Abadas, Wints. Just go on about my business my way, for now."
Wintsenay went.
In the next hour Strick saw four people. He refused to do anything at all for the one who wanted vengeance on a landlord, used a minor spell and an unnecessary foul-tasting concoction to get rid of the really ugly warts on another's face, told a third sadly that he could do nothing about the long-twisted leg but secretly made a spell to make the poor woman more accepting, at least, and told a sufferer of persistently upset stomach that he needed to go to a physician, at once. It wasn't.as if anyone was gong to cure the rampant malignant growth Strick saw in the too-young man's upper intestine, but at least he could go through his final weeks of life in a drugged state. For all this the spellwright took in three pieces of silver and a nice bolt of cloth of a color he did not desire. Well, he could trade it, or use it as gift goods.