Robert Asprin - Blood Ties

"So has most of mine," she said. "But at this rate you could

starve!"

He shook his head. "Hardly. A certain friend of your mother's is very sensitive about her scraggly hair. I put a little spell on it and made her promise to wash it at least every other day. For that, she left fourteen silver Imperials-old Imperials. Said it is her magic number."

"Is it?"

He smiled. "No. Must be mine, though," and they chuckled together. "Too, a messenger arrived from Volmas. His message was a nice fat gold piece."

"Is that what happened to his foul breath! Ah, my hero!" Clasping her hands under her chin, she gazed at him. "What else. Hero of the People?"

"I spelled a wart off a finger. Ten coppers! Accepted a sack of decent wine for still another head of silver hair. I think it was more than she could afford, at age thirty. A woman asked me to cast a spell on her neighbor, who is after her husband. Third request for punitive spells this week. I refuse them all. The very next client asked me to make her more attractive to her husband. See the difference in the minds of the two individuals? I told her she would be, as soon as she gets him to come to me. The spell, you see, needs to be on him, so that he perceives her as more attractive!"

"How lovely! You might put one on a certain man for me," she said, tracing a finger idly along his forearm.

"If you were more attractive no one in Sanctuary could stand it," he said, and rushed on before she could say what he did not want to hear. "This is interesting. The man and the woman came together. Their neighbor's dog barks every night and disturbs their sleep and that of their infant. He said he wanted the dog dead and I told him no. He came back with almost a command: 'At least punish my neighbor! The swine sleeps right through that beast's noise!'" Strick sighed. "That was tempting!"

"I should think so! Sounds like justice to me," Esaria said.

"True. But it's beyond what I will do. When he settled down and she begged for any sort of relief, I promised that the dog would not bother their sleep again."

"Oh how wonderful, Strick!" She squeezed his arm. "You put a sleeping spell on them?-or one on their ears?"

"No! Never that; I couldn't make such a spell selective. They could perish in their sleep because they heard nothing. No, but if you'd like to take a little ride with me 'morrow afternoon, we will visit their neighbor's dog. Simple: I merely see to it that he makes no sound between late twilight and

dawn."

She laughed aloud. "How marvelous! And yes, I'd love to go!" She squeezed his arm at the elbow. After a few moments she sobered: "Oh. But suppose someone tried to break in at the home of the dog's owner? Won't you have done bad along with the good?" Now her leg had found his, under the

table.

"A dog that barks at night without real cause is of no value, and better off on a farm someplace. Besides, its owner sleeps right on, remember? Else he'd have got rid of the dog long ago. Or become its master as well as merely owner."

"Ah. I should have known better than to question you. Oh Strick you're so wise and so sensitive! You care so, about

people!"

Strick responded to compliments no better than most, and chose not to respond to that. "Do you know someone called

Chenaya?"

"Yes. Uh-not well. I am not interested in knowing her

well."

"Um. Neither is much of anyone else, apparently. Came in yesterday. First she challenged Frax and sneered at him, then made a sexual suggestion to Wints and then a nasty remark, said another nasty to Avneh and came swaggering in. Reminds me of an adolescent boy with a lot to prove. Challenged me -not to a passage at arms, I mean, just by remarks and attitude. A thoroughly poison personality. She had persuaded herself to come, but had trouble stating her problem. A very, very defensive... person. Demanded to know the source of my ability. I told her the emerald Eye of Agromoto and-"

"That's not what you told me!"

"No, but it's what I thought of yesterday; today I told a fellow it came from the Hoary Head of the Hawk of Horus. I asked this Chenaya for something of value and she slapped down a dagger. Nice sticker, with a jewel or two. She wondered aloud what's under my cap and I only stared, waiting. She kept hedging and meandering verbally. I made the signal for Wints to interrupt and tell me someone was waiting. 'Get out of here, lackey!' she snapped at him, and I quietly told her that I would give orders to my people, thanks, and never to hers. She glowered for a while, then looked away, mentioned needing privacy, and told me what she perceives as her problem."

Strick paused to shake his head. '"I'd like to-to do better with people,' she said. 'No one-I mean, some people don't uh er seem to uh like me.'"

Esaria made a nasty noise.

He went on: "At last she'd got it out, but she continued looking at the wall. Embarrassed and defensive. Ready to challenge, snap back, fight, argue. What a rotten job her parents did with her; how defensive and unhappy she is! I told her that I could help her, but that she would not like the solution -and only her gods could know what the Price might be! She looked at me, then, and I thought how sad it is that she has such genuinely pretty eyes."

He shook his head. " 'What would you do that would be so terrible?' she wanted to know, and I told her: Lock your tongue. Render you unable to speak. That and some real counseling."

Esaria giggled.

"Her glare got worse," he said, ignoring her. "She called me charlatan, snatched up the dagger, and stalked to the door. That didn't surprise me; it just saddened me. Then she surprised me: she turned back and made a sexual suggestion. I said no. Unfortunately she demanded a reason. I told her I did not find her sexually attractive. I don't, and stop looking that way. She seems bent on couching every male in the city-as if, Wints says, her creator mandated it. Not this one. I am more than disinterested: The idea is abhorrent."

"Glad to hear it," Esaria said. "Does that vow encompass all women?"

He shook his head and leaned back, smiling to cover discomfort. "No. Just Chenaya, girls such as Avneh, and the daughters of wealthy noblemen."

"Bigot!"

In his mind Strick identified his bankers as the Pearl One and the Gold One. Amaya was the wife of the Pearl One with the simple name: Renn. The Gold One was Melarshain- probably another ancient Ilsig and relative. After three months in Sanctuary, the quiet man had a considerable amount on deposit with each; far more than the pearls and gold that had established his credit here. It was Melarshain who asked him to come in this afternoon for a "discussion." Without asking questions, Strick went. First he changed clothes.

The floor on which he paced into the chamber was of rich tile, alternating a warm russet with a nicely contrasting pale cream yellow. Handsomely painted scenes decorated the walls; one centered around an intricately fitted mosaic. Entering with his lightweight beige cloak flapping at his ankles, Strick saw that the furnishings were designed simultaneously for show and for comfort-rich comfort.

He was surprised at the collection of men who awaited him, but did not show it. They showed their surprise that he did not wear the "Strick uniform" of unfashionably long tunic over unfashionably matching blue leggings. Today he boldly displayed large bare calves and big bare arms in the undyed tunic with the extra-short sleeves and extra-large opening at the neck. He had chosen to appear as colorless as he had been when he arrived in Sanctuary, three months agone. The cloak, however, was no inexpensive garment.

"So the moneyhandlers of Sanctuary are not enemies, hmm?" he asked, looking blandly at Renn. And at Volmas, and Shafralain, and another man he did not know, and then at Melarshain. "A moment, please." He turned back to the doorway. "Fulcris? It seems that I have not been invited here to be murdered after all. Come and take this, will you, and find some aide of Melarshain's to go down and tell Frax he can relax his guard."