Thieves World 3 – Shadows of Sanctuary by Asprin, Robert

man who held a cocked crossbow in one hand, awkwardly, and a closed lamp or

lanthorn in the other, sleeve sliding back to show an arm of bone plated with

parchment. Kurd.

He was ducking the whizzing knife that missed by several inches. The lanthorn

Swung wildly, splashing lunatic flashes of yellow light off walls and floor and

tables with ghastly stains. The doke should have put the light down first, Hanse

thought, plucking out another sliver of sharp steel. With both hands on that

little crossbow Kurd might be dangerous. Instead his arm was nailed to the door

by a knife that caught cloth but only raked skin – there was no flesh – so that

the monster cried out more in fear than in pain. The crossbow hit the floor,

thunked, and sent its bolt thunk-twanging into a wall or a table leg or – Hanse

didn’t care.

‘I’m here for Tempus, butcher. Just stand there and provide light. Move and I’ll

throw again.’ He showed Kurd a third bright blade, sheathed it. ‘You’d look good

with another navel, anyhow.’ Then he went to the source of the third groan. ‘Oh,

oh gods, oh, oh gods, why is this allowedT

No god answered the anguished query torn from Shadowspawn by the sight of

Tempus.

Big blond Tempus answered, scarless and armless, and the answer came from a

mouth without a tongue. He managed to make Hanse understand that three pins were

stuck into each stump. Hanse steeled himself to pull them out before turning to

gush vomit on to the grooved floor of Kurd’s laboratory of torment, and whirled

back to send such a glare at the vivisectionist that Kurd shivered and stood