Thieves World 3 – Shadows of Sanctuary by Asprin, Robert

The man looked at Chan. ‘You’d best train your whores to manners yourself, boy,

or your customers will help you and damage your merchandise.’

Chan blushed scarlet, embarrassed, flustered, and confused. Wess began to think

she knew what was going on, but she did not want to believe it.

‘You are speaking to me, man,’ Quartz said, using the word with as much contempt

as he had put into ‘woman’. ‘I have but one more question for you. You are not

ill-favoured, yet you cannot get someone to bed you for the joy of it. Does this

mean you are diseased?’

With an incoherent sound of rage, he reached for his knife. Before he touched

it. Quartz’s short-sword rasped out of its scabbard. She held its tip just above

his belt-buckle. The death she offered him was slow and painful.

Everyone in the tavern watched intently as the man slowly spread his hands.

‘Go away,’ Quartz said. ‘Do not speak to me again. You are not unattractive, but

if you are not diseased you are a fool, and I do not sleep with fools.’

She moved her sword a handsbreadth. He backed up three fast steps and spun

around, glancing spasmodically from one face to another, to another. He found

only amusement. He bolted, through a roar of laughter, fighting his way to the

door.

The tavern-keeper sauntered over. ‘Foreigners,’ he said, ‘I don’t know whether

you’ve made your place or dug your graves tonight,

but that was the best laugh I’ve had since the new moon. Bauchle Meyne will

never live it down.’

‘I did not think it funny in the least,’ Quartz said. She sheathed her short