"You big-that really is chain! I'm hurt!"
Ahdio lifted his hand between them and doubled it into a fist the size of an infant's head. "What hurts?"
"My ... f ..." The fellow trailed off. Staring at the fist and glancing at his considerably smaller one, he sank slowly down into his chair.
"That'll teach ya, Tarkle," one of the injured man's tablemates said.
Having hurt his knuckles and arm and been backed down, Tarkle was happy to snarl and reach for that man-with his uninjured hand. That fast, an enormous fist came down onto the table between them with a bang. Unable to stop his movement, Tarkle rammed his outstretched hand into the knuckles and stove up three fingers. He repeated his previous yaow.
Ahdio said only, "Now damn it-"
Lots of eyes watched while the table's complement sat in silence, with Ahdio bending over it and his fist resting in place. Slowly he straightened.
"Easy now, Tarkle, that beer's coming right up," he said, and turned to continue barward.
"Ahdio!" a female voice screamed. "Look out!"
At the same time as he reacted by hunching his shoulders and pushing his chin into his chest, Ahdio glanced in the direction of the cry. He saw the veiled lady, on her feet and pointing. Meanwhile he was pivoting, spinning, one tree branch arm straight out from his body. Fortunately only one man was on his feet behind him: Ahdio's forearm whacked into the side of Tarkle's neck. Tarkle went sideways over his own chair and onto his table. Its other occupants vacated their chairs with admirable speed even while Tarkle's wrist banged down on the table's edge. His knife vacated his fist. Throde's foot was on it before Tarkle's head whacked the table and bounced. While he was still disconcerted and seeing bright lights before his eyes, a huge hand closed on the back of his neck and hoisted him onto his feet. Never mind his watery legs; Ahdio walked him to the door. Along the way his other hand dropped to come up with another man.
"Gawk! Here! I didn't do nothin'!"
"Sure you did," Ahdio advised him in an equable voice. "You started this hothead off by yanking the hem of my cousin's boy's brand-new tunic. And a lovely good night to you both," he said, thrusting them out the door back-to-back with a twist and thrust of his arms. "Sorry, boys. Don't even think of coming back in tonight, mind."
"You-you sumbitch-"
"Yes, yes," Ahdio said, turning back into the doorway; "I never thought much of her myself."
Having demonstrated why he wore the mailcoat, he closed the wooden winter door against the cold, and with both hands swept back the thirty-one strands of dangling colored rope that for most of the year were the inn's only door. He was right in assuming that no one in Sly's Place was looking anywhere but at him. Standing there on the one-step entry platform he had installed to make it easy for comers-in to spot friends or empty tables, he gave them the full benefit of his lungs.
"Now that is enough trouble for one night! Settle damn it down! Throde: one round of Red Gold for everyone at True Brew prices. That includes you and me."
To the sound of applause, Ahdio returned to the bar. His customers made plenty of room. To Throde he spoke quietly: "Take care of our mysterious patron and her escort for the rest of the night, Throde."
The youth nodded. Anyone else might have said "You're not going to thank her?" but not Throde. Looking at the floor, he said, "I'm sorry, Ahdio. Thanks."
"Going to have to get you a club to wear in your belt, or brass knuckles. But forget the apology-I saw it all. Not your fault at all. Here. First one's for you. Next one's for me. Going to be an edgy night, Throde. Who the blazes is that woman?"
Throde had no answer. He served the veiled lady's table. She had two glasses of wine only, without ever showing her face; her companion put away several beers. There was no further trouble. Nevertheless, Ahdio was right: it was an edgy night. Avenestra, the teenaged girl in the skintight top and slit skirt, left with Frax and came back an hour or so later, alone. By then, about half of the patrons had departed Sly's Place, in various stages of inebriation. Avenestra went to the bar for a beer, specifying lots of foam, and approached that table by the wall.
"You a Bey behind that veil?" she asked, licking at the foam boiling above her blue-glazed mug.
"No," the blue-green veil said. "I'm Ahdio's girl. Just came in tonight to watch him work. Sure knows how to settle fights, doesn't he?"
"Uh-huh." Avenestra licked foam. "You sure better treat him right, Ahdio's gurl. He sure does have friends." And she moved off. Less than three-quarters of an hour later, she left with another man.
"I'd say she's about fourteen," the veiled Jodeera quietly murmured to Wints.
"About," Wints said.
"One more round before closing!" Ahdio called. "One, I say one more round and that's it. How about savin' wear and tear on our legs and puttin' hands in the air, dear friends?"
Wintsenay's hand went up, with many others. Ahdio and Throde went to work moving fast. No, Throde told his employer, he had not heard the veiled lady's voice.
"Just drink this one right down, Wints," his hooded and veiled employer said. "When the last of these scum is leaving, you leave too. I'm staying."
"Milady ..."
"Just get up and amble out with the last of them, Wintsenay."
"Yes'm."
The last round was served, and quaffed. More men left. Ouleh was long gone. The veiled lady had long since become the only woman in the place. Keeping an eye on her without seeming to, Ahdio announced closing. Throde went into the back room and returned with his broom, a reminder that could not be overlooked. Sweetboy meandered into the main room, yawning, glancing hopefully at the bar. More people straggled out. Ahdio helped one. Throde helped one. The last two, companions, rose. They hoisted their mugs to Ahdio and then to the woman whose face or even hair they had never seen, and drained their cups. With considerable pride, both departed without support.
"Not right out in front now, boys!" Ahdio called after them.
Looking a little nervous, teeth worrying his lip, Throde watched both men all the way out the door.
Ahdiovizun stared at the veiled lady. Throde looked at her, at Ahdio. Who knew where she was looking, under hood and behind veil?
"My lady ..." Ahdio began, and broke off as she rose to her feet.
He and Throde stared as she tossed back her hood, then unclasped the cloak, and with one hand pulled her veil straight out until it dropped free. Her hand fell to her side, carrying the veil. She said nothing. Neither did Ahdio. He stared, mouth open. He dropped one big hand to the back of a chair as if he needed support.
"Not," he said in a very low voice, "possible!"
"Oh," Throde said, with feeling, as he looked upon the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld.
The unveiled lady gazed at him while he and Throde stared at her. She said nothing.
"Throde," Ahdio said, and his voice sounded funny to his helper, "let's leave the tables and sweeping up till tomorrow. Go ahead home, and don't forget to be careful out there tonight."
Swallowing hard, looking at him, Throde stood blinking. He had never seen Ahdio 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.