"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 cousin Phlegmy brews good brew, Ahdy!"

"Girl! I'm too old for girls, two-beers. You think I put this gray in my beard with chalk? Now who's been blabbing that I have a secret lady who dropped in tonight to watch me work?" /( worked, he thought. Good old Ouleh-all you have to do is ask her to keep a secret and it's the same as hiring thirty boys to shout the news!

Laughter and shouts followed him to the bar, and he made sure that he gave Ouleh a scowl. She bit her lip in the manner of a chastised child. While sitting on Tervy's knee with her hand inside the shirt of Frax, former palace guardsman. Someone reached out and yanked at the hem of Throde's tunic, in back. Throde reeled and his tray tipped. A mug dropped off into someone's lap. That someone cursed and came up fast, drawing back a fist. One moment he was looking at Throde's whimpery face saying "Oh, oh, I'm sorry" while his peripheral hearing reported the steel-jingle sound of a battlefield; the next he was staring at Ahdio's chest and it was too late to arrest his swing.

His fist slammed into quintuply-linked chain that seemed to be backed by a wall of stone.

"Yaaowww!"

"You don't want to go hittin' my cousin's boy Throde, friend," the chainmailed stone wall said, while the subject of his pleasant-voiced address danced and clutched his wounded fist. Tears welled out of his eyes. "It wasn't his fault somebody grabbed his tunic from behind and don't ask who. Besides, that mug didn't hurt your jewels or you'd never uv got up so fast. Sit down now and I'll bring you a full one."

"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.