The First Book of Lankhmar

"Precious Nemia," Eyes murmured, "you're so civilized. And so very, very clever. Next to one other, you're certainly the best thief in Lankhmar."
           "Who's the other?" Nemia was eager to know.
           "Myself, of course," Eyes answered modestly.
           Nemia reached up and tweaked her companion's ear  —  not too painfully, but enough.
           "If there were the least money depending on that," she said quietly but firmly, "I'd teach you differently. But since it's only conversation..."
           "Dearest Nemia."
           "Sweetest Eyes."
           The two girls gently embraced and kissed each other fondly.

             * * * *

           The Mouser glared thin-lipped across a table in a curtained booth in the Golden Lamprey, a tavern not unlike the Silver Eel.
           He rapped the teak before him with his fingertip, and the perfumed stale air with his voice, saying, "Double those twenty gold pieces and I'll make the trip and hear Prince Gwaay's proposal."
           The very pale man opposite him, who squinted as if even the candlelight were a glare, answered softly, "Twenty-five  —  and you serve him for one day after arrival."
           "What sort of ass do you take me for?" the Mouser demanded dangerously. "I might be able to settle all his troubles in one day  —  I usually can  —  and what then? No, no preagreed service; I hear his proposal only. And ... thirty-five gold pieces in advance."
           "Very well, thirty gold pieces  —  twenty to be refunded if you refuse to serve my master, which would be a risky step, I warn you."
           "Risk is my bedmate," the Mouser snapped. "Ten only to be refunded."
           The other nodded and began slowly to count rilks onto the teak. "Ten now ," he said. "Ten when you join our caravan tomorrow morning at the Grain Gate. And ten when we reach Quarmall."
           "When we first glimpse the spires of Quarmall," the Mouser insisted.
           The other nodded.
           The Mouser moodily snatched the golden coins and stood up. They felt very few in his fist. For a moment he thought of returning to Fafhrd and with him devising plans against Ogo and Nemia.
           No, never! He realized he couldn't in his misery and self-rage bear the thought of even looking at Fafhrd.
           Besides, the Northerner would certainly be drunk.
           And two, or at most three, rilks would buy him certain tolerable and even interesting pleasures to fill the hours before dawn brought him release from this hateful city.

             * * * *

           Fafhrd was indeed drunk, being on his third jug. He had burnt up all the black jewels and was now with the greatest delicacy and most careful use of the needle point of his knife, releasing unharmed each of the silver-wired firebeetles, glowwasps, nightbees, and diamondflies. They buzzed about erratically.
           Two cupbearers and the chucker-out had come to protest, and now Slevyas himself joined them, rubbing the back of his thick neck. He had been stung and a customer too. Fafhrd had himself been stung twice, but hadn't seemed to notice. Nor did he now pay the slightest attention to the four haranguing him.
           The last nightbee was released. It careened off noisily past Slevyas' neck, who dodged his head with a curse. Fafhrd sat back, suddenly looking very wretched. With varying shrugs the master of the Silver Eel and his three servitors made off, one cupbearer making swipes at the air.
           Fafhrd tossed up his knife. It came down almost point first, but didn't quite stick in the teak. He laboriously scabbarded it, then forced himself to take a small sip of wine.
           As if someone were about to emerge from the backmost booth, there was a stirring of its heavy curtains, which like all the others had stitched to them heavy chain and squares of metal, so that one guest couldn't stab another through them, except with luck and the slimmest stilettos.
           But at that moment a very pale man, who held up his cloak to shield his eyes from the candlelight, entered by the side door and made to Fafhrd's table.
           "I've come for my answer, Northerner," he said in a voice soft yet sinister. He glanced at the toppled jugs and spilled wine. "That is, if you remember my proposition."
           "Sit down," Fafhrd said. "Have a drink. Watch out for the glowwasps  —  they're vicious." Then, scornfully, "Remember!