Thieves World 01 – Thieves World by Asprin, Robert

happened, full of dread for his darling, he saw no reason to sell the garb yet.

He could raise enough money in various ways to live on while he searched for

her. If need be, as often before, he could pawn the harp that a goldsmith was

presently redecorating.

If his quest had not succeeded by the time he was reduced to rags, then he would

have to suppose Danlis and the Lady Rosanda were forever lost. But he had never

been one to grieve over future sorrows.

Beneath a westering sun, the bazaar surged and clamoured. Merchants, artisans,

porters, servants, slaves, wives, nomads, courtesans, entertainers, beggars,

thieves, gamblers, magicians, acolytes, soldiers, and who knew what else

mingled, chattered, chaffered, quarrelled, plotted, sang, played games, drank,

ate, and who knew what else. Horsemen, camel-drivers, waggoners pushed through,

raising waves of curses. Music tinkled and tweedled from wine-shops. Vendors

proclaimed the wonders of their wares from booths, neighbours shouted at each

other, and devotees chanted from flat rooftops. Smells thickened the air, of

flesh, sweat, roast meat and nuts, aromatic drinks, leather, wool, dung, smoke,

oils, cheap perfume.

Ordinarily, Cappen Varra enjoyed this shabby-colourful spectacle. Now he single

mindedly hunted through it. He kept full awareness, of course, as everybody must

in Sanctuary. When light fingers brushed him, he knew. But whereas aforetime he

would have chuckled and told the pickpurse, ‘I’m sorry, friend; I was hoping I

might lift somewhat off you,’ at this hour he clapped his sword in such