"Little thief," the woman said. "Little four arms. What is your name?"
Silence, and the dark eyes narrowed.
"I can make you tell me," and she raised her hand to her throat again.
Now the eyes opened wide, and the boy pushed back against Urson's belly.
Geo reached toward the boy's neck where a ceramic disk hung from a leather thong. Glazed on the white enamel was a wriggle of black with a small dot of green for an eye at one end. "This will do for a name," Geo said. "No need to harm him. Snake is his symbol; Snake shall be his name."
"Little Snake," she said, dropping her threatening hand, "how good a thief are you?" She looked at Urson. "Let him go."
"And miss thrashing his backside?" objected Urson.
"He will not run away."
Urson released him, and four hands came from behind the boy's back and began massaging one another's wrists. But the dark eyes watched her until she repeated, "How good a thief are you?"
With only a second's indecision, he reached into his clout and drew out what seemed another leather thong similar to the one around his neck. He held up the fist from which it dangled, and the fingers opened slowly to a cage.