"Been here before?"
"I have been in Riandar many times."
"That's not what I mean. Have you been here—to this store—before?"
Don shook his head. "Not to this store, no. But they told me the Blue Mountain was paying better than some others. I thought I'd try——"
"Yeah," the other said coldly. "Sure. Now, suppose we take a little walk, you and I? Some people down the street would like to talk to you."
Don shook his head. "I merely came here to sell mats," he insisted. "I make good mats."
The heavy man frowned. "Maybe," he snapped. "We'll see about that after we've had a talk with you." He stepped closer. "If you're just a mat maker, nothing will happen to you. If you really have good mats, you might even get a nice price for some of your stuff. Come on."
He reached out to take Don's sleeve. Don stepped back, his face suddenly losing its vague, apologetic expression. His features sharpened, to become hard, uncompromising.
"Get over to that wall, Fellow," he ordered sharply. "Move!"