Thieves World 3 – Shadows of Sanctuary by Asprin, Robert

awful punishments the Empire meted out to its criminals. He shrank back from the

window as a huge black crow landed on the sill, swivelling its head in a

lopsided start of dark-curiosity. The Prince shooed it back to the gallows.

‘I will do what I can, Molin. I will speak with my advisers.’

‘My Dear Prince, in matters regarding the spiritual well-being of the

Imperial Presence in Sanctuary, I am your only trusted adviser.’

Molin regretted his burst of temper at once; though the Prince gave him smooth

verbal assurances, the Vashankan priest was now certain that the Hound Tempus

would know by sundown.

Tempus: a plague, a thorn, a malignancy to the proper order of things. A son of

Vashanka, a true-son no doubt, and utterly unfettered by the constraints of

ritual and hierarchy. If even a fraction of the rumours about him were to be

believed; if he had survived dissection on Kurd’s tables … It could not be

believed. Tempus could not be so far beyond the hierarchy’s reach.

Well, Molin thought after a moment, I’m a true-son too. Let the Prince run to

him in sweating anxiety. Let him consult with Tempus; let them conspire against

me – I’ll still succeed.

Generations of priests had bred generations of true-sons to Vashanka. The god

was not quite the blood-drinker he once was.

Vashanka could be constrained and, after all, Molin’s side of the family was far

bigger than Tempus’s.

He watched the Prince leave without feeling panic. The crow returned to the

window-ledge as was its daily custom. The bird cawed impatiently while Molin and