was a god for only a heartbeat, wasn't he?'
'He was a god for only a moment,' Egil said, staring straight ahead. 'But then, we're all gods for only a moment.'
'I don't… What?'
Egil said, 'Why do you wear the harp of Lyyra, Lis?'
Lis looked down at the cheap charm that hung between the pale mounds of her breasts: a harp, the symbol of Lyyra, Goddess of Sensuality and Pleasure.
'Oh, I don't know. It was a gift from a regular. I'm not really religious…' She colored. 'I'm just trying to make this life bearable, I suppose.'
'Me, too,' Egil said, and frowned. He thumped his tankard on the bar. 'Discussion of this kind rarely helps in that regard. Gadd, a refill if you please.'
Lis looked over at Nix and Kiir as if for help or advice, but Nix had none to give. He knew why Egil had turned to the worship of Ebenor, and he never spoke of it. Lis looked back at Egil.
'Forgive my question,' she said softly. 'Your beliefs are none of my concern. I shouldn't have asked. I didn't mean to… pain you.'
Gadd put another tankard before Egil. Still the priest did not look at Lis, nor at any of them. He stared straight ahead, his mind in the past, on tragedy.
'Life is made up of moments, Lis,' he said, his normally gruff voice turned soft. 'Some good, some… bad. In these days I'm just trying to have more of the good ones. Apologies for speaking harshly just now.'
Lis must have heard the hurt in Egil's voice. She stared at him, sympathy in her eyes, then put her hand on his hairy arm. He seemed startled by her touch, but did not move his arm away. He looked down at her hand, tiny and pale on his massive, tanned forearm. After a time, he put his other hand over hers.
Nix felt as if he were seeing something private, sacred, and he found himself hoping that someone, sometime in his life, would touch him with the same sense of unabashed compassion Lis had just shown Egil.
'Yes, well,' Nix said, treading lightly. 'As we were discussing. Right. Well. So, do you think we should hire someone to run this place for us?'
Egil patted Lis's hand once before removing his own. 'Like who?'
Nix turned around on his stool, studied the raggedy handful of men who still remained, as if one of them might be a candidate. He caught the four watchmen eyeing him as they talked softly among themselves. They hadn't touched their ales. Nix smiled falsely at them, turned back to the bar.
'I don't know.'
'What about Tesha?' Kiir asked.
'She already mostly runs the place,' Lis added.
Egil and Nix shared a look. Egil shrugged. The idea seemed reasonable to Nix, too.
'She is competent,' Egil said.
'More than competent, from what I've seen. And she runs the… workers, so she's already halfway there. We could give her free room and board, halve the price of rent and board for her workers, and for that she runs the whole place for us. We just take the profits.'
Kiir squealed, embraced Nix, her rapid motion filling the air with the scent of her perfume. 'We'll go tell her.'
'Wait, we're just…' Nix said, but too late. They were off.
'… talking,' he finished.
'Looks like done is done,' Egil said, and chewed his mustache. 'Could work. Tesha, I mean. She'll need some muscle, though, else how can she deal with bungholes like that hiresword?'
'She's got her own ideas about that,' Nix said, thinking of the dressing-down Tesha had given him. 'Besides, we'll be here often enough, and when we're not, our names still carry weight. And if it came to it, we could hire someone.'
Egil waved a hand in the air to disperse the aromatic smoke from Gadd's pipe. Nix slid the ash tray down the bar, away from them.
'It's a marvel the man can understand any Realm Common at all, inhaling all that stink.'
Egil said, 'I thought you wanted to be a landed gentleman, maybe get a seat on the Merchants' Council. Respectability, you said.'
'Oh, I do. And we'll still be respectable. Or at least more than we are now. But… being respectable seems like a lot of work, doesn't it? Am I wrong?'
Egil laughed, raised his tankard in a toast. 'You're not. It does seem like work.'
'You know, maybe we should change the name from the Slick Tunnel to the Shithole? Embrace the truth, as it were. Some might find it amusing. What do you think?'
'I think my ale cup is empty again.'
'That it is.' Nix gestured to the tapkeep. 'Ales around, Gadd.'
That, Gadd understood, and they were soon staring at full tankards, listening to the sound of the common room behind them.
'Those four slubbers still watching us?' Nix asked.
'I believe they are,' Egil said. 'Been watching us the whole time. I guess they are here for us. What do you suppose they want?'
'The fun's in finding out, yeah?'
Egil drained his cup as he stood. 'Yeah.'
'Try not to throw anyone else bodily from the premises,' Nix said, loosening his falchion in its scabbard. 'Tesha frowns on it.'
'Well enough.'
They stalked across the common room. The four men saw them coming, nudged each other. Expressions tightened, and hands went low, near hilts. The men slid their chairs back from the table to give them room to stand, pushed back capes to give unfettered access to blades.
Mindful of Tesha's admonition, Nix faked a smile, an expression he'd worn both while seducing women and while putting a span of steel into a man's gut. Egil simply wore his usual surliness. False expressions weren't in the priest, no matter the circumstances. If Egil wanted someone dead, that someone would see it coming well in advance.
Out of habit, Nix and Egil spaced themselves at two paces, wide enough to ply their weapons without getting in each other's way, should it be necessary. Nix hoped it wouldn't, but it paid to be prudent.
'And how do you fare, goodsirs?' Nix asked.
'Uh, fine,' said one of the younger men, and the older shot him a glance that said 'shut up.'
'Is the ale to your satisfaction?' Nix asked.
The three younger men, perhaps puzzled by the mundanity of the question, looked to the older bearded man, whom Nix made as their leader.
'It's quite good,' said Beard. 'Surprisingly so.'
'Excellent,' Nix said, and nothing more. He and Egil stood their ground in silence, near enough to the table to make their presence an irritant. Nix kept his smile and Egil his frown, the two of them comfortable with the other men's growing discomfort.
'Something else?' Beard finally asked.
'I don't know,' Nix said pointedly. 'Is there something else?'
The man seemed to take his point. He pushed his tankard away, looked to his fellows, back to Nix, then put his hands on the table where they could do nothing foolish.
'Right. So, you're Nix Fall and Egil of Ebenor?'
'And you're Dur Follin Watch, yeah? That bit at the Slum Gate-'
The man shook his head. 'Isn't my concern. What makes you think we're watch?'
'If not watch then what?' Nix asked.
'Do you answer every question with a question?'
'Do I, Egil?' Nix asked the priest.
'What of it if you do?' Egil answered.
Nix looked at Beard. 'Do questions bother you?'
