Thieves World 01 – Thieves World by Asprin, Robert

fresh fish three times a week, but a pitifully small hoard of gold with which to

convince the caravan merchants to bring an anvil from distant Ranke.

‘We’ve got to have an anvil!’ She exclaimed to the unlistening gods, since Dubro

and Haakon were already aware of the problem.

Dubro kicked dirt over his fire and strode away from the small forge.

‘Watch him for me, Haakon. He’s never been like this.’

‘I’ll watch him – but it will be your problem tonight when he comes home.’

A few of the city-folk were already milling in the aisles of the bazaar; it was

high time to hide in her room. Never before in her five years of working the

S’danzo trade within the bazaar had she faced a day when Dubro did not lend his

calm presence to the stream of patrons. He controlled their coming and going.

Without him, she did not know who was waiting, or how to discourage a patron who

had questions – but no money. She sat in the incense-heavy darkness waiting and

brooding.

Moonflower. She would go to Moonflower, not for the old woman’s broken-down

cart, but for advice. The old woman had never shunned her the way the other

S’danzo had. But Moonflower wouldn’t know about fixing anvils, and what could

she add to the message so clearly conveyed by the Face of Chaos? Besides,

Moonflower’s richest patrons arrived early in the day to catch her best

‘vibrations’. The old woman would not appreciate a poor relation taking up her

patrons’ valuable time.

No patrons of her own yet, either. Perhaps the weather had turned bad. Perhaps,