staff did not move; a hand moved gently out to touch him.
‘Her peace remain on you, my brother,’ the blind man said in a high voice, and
Hanse mouthed words, then turned.
‘You rotten slime,’ a cowl striped in green and red hissed. ‘Poor blind Sorad
has been among us for years and no one ever made such a nasty gesture to him.
Who are you, anyhow?’
‘One who thinks that other blind man is not blind and not one of us, and was
testing – brother. Have you ever seen him before?’
His accoster – burly, in that striped Myrsevadan robe, looked around. ‘Well …
no. The one in the gloves?’
‘Yes. I think they are because his stick – yes, peace to you too, sister – has
just been painted.’
‘You think it’s a disguised weapon? That.he’s from the… palace?’
‘No. I think the prince-governor couldn’t care a rat’s whisker about us.’
Substituting the pronoun was a last instant thought, and Hanse felt proud of
that touch. Playing ‘I’m just like you but he is bad’ had got him out of several
scrapes. ‘I do think he is a spy, though. That priest from Ranke, who thinks
every temple should be closed down except a glorious new one to Vash – Vashi
whatever they call him. I’ll bet that’s his spy.’
That made the loyal Thebite quiver in rage! He went directly towards the man in
the forest green cloak, with the brown stick. Hanse, edging along towards the
entrance of what was by day a belt-maker’s shop, watched Striped Robe speak to
the man with the staff. An answer came, as Hanse moved.
Hanse didn’t hear the reply; he heard ‘May all your days be bright in Her name