The Yellow Silk - Don Bassingthwaite [41]
Giras's eyes narrowed and his voice took on a harsher edge. "And I told you, sir, those items have been in my shop for months, sold to me by a trader from the Shou-towns of Thesk. If you're accusing me of dealing in stolen goods, I'll thank you to take your custom elsewhere." His fingers played across the gold. "Now, if you like, I could perhaps make you a special offer. The boots you so admired, a pair of pants and a shirt for-"
Li reached out, grabbed Giras by the back of his neck, and bashed his head down against the counter. As the fence staggered back, one of the gold coins stuck to his forehead, Li whirled on the muscle-bound guard standing by the shop door. The man was already lumbering forward, hand reaching for a stout club. Li ducked in close and struck him hard twice, once under the chin and once on the side of the neck. He dropped with a thud that shook the floor. Li turned back to Giras, seizing his collar and dragging him to his feet. "I think two gold is more than fair for stolen goods," he said gruffly. "Do you agree?"
Giras nodded eagerly. Li thrust him at the nearest stack of goods. "Dig out the things you bought from Lander last night. All of them."
He stripped off the clothes he had stolen that morning and put on his own as fast as Giras could produce them. Spare clothing and other goods piled up on the counter. Li sighed with relief as he pulled on his own boots, properly fitted and without holes, and looked up at Giras. The fence had stopped and was standing beside the counter, rubbing at the deep, red impression the coin had stamped on his forehead. Li looked at the pile of goods and frowned. "There should be a coat and a dao." Giras blinked at the word. "A sword," snarled Li. "A great, heavy, curved sword that could cut through your thieving neck in one stroke."
"I don't have it," Giras whimpered. "Lander wouldn't sell it to me. He kept it. The coat I sold this morning-to one of Lander's men." Li scowled and Giras cringed. "I didn't know you'd be coming in!"
Li growled and reached for the foul coat he had just discarded. Tycho would have to wait for the rubies. "I need a weapon then." Giras cringed again.
"A weapon? I can't help you. I don't carry them. Forbidden for me to even-" Li rose and stomped toward him. Giras swallowed hard. Darting over to a large trunk, he twisted on a handle. There was a click and both the lid and front of the trunk swung open with graceful majesty. An array of weapons glittered within. Li looked them over and chose a sword that was curved like his dao, though with a lighter, Western blade. Giras nodded. "Calishite scimitar. Excellent choice-"
"Be quiet." Li took the sheath that went with the scimitar, slid the blade into it, and gave Giras a final glare. "You should find another trade." He turned and stalked out of the shop.
He was so wrapped up in his anger that he barely even noticed the tottering old woman in the street until he had practically walked right over top of her. She gasped and he caught her arm, helping her steady herself. "Your pardon, honored mother," he apologized and started to turn away.
The woman grabbed his wrist and said sharply in a thin, liquid voice, "Kuang Li Chien!"
Li froze, startled, and looked down. The woman was looking at him intently, eyes of a faded blue focused on him. Her grip was frail and quivering. Her entire body shook slightly. He could have pulled away easily. There was something familiar about the woman, though. "You live with Tycho," he said. She had been asleep on a couch when he had slipped out that morning. Another memory came back to him-her face as she prodded his aching body. "You helped Tycho heal me."
"My name is Veseene. I'm Tycho's friend. He did the work of healing you, though." Her eyes hardened. "If I let you go, will you run again?" Li flushed.
"No. And I apologize for