Thieves World 3 – Shadows of Sanctuary by Asprin, Robert

‘Theomachy is no longer my burden.’

‘That cannot be so.’

‘… hear about the insurrection, or take my leave!’

‘… His name is unpronounceable, and that of his empire, but I think we all

shall learn it so well we will mumble it in our sleep …’

‘I don’t sleep. It is a matter of the right field officers, and men young

enough not to have fought upcountry the last time.’

‘I am meeting some Sacred Band members here, my old team. Can you provision

us?’

‘Here? Well enough to get to thecapital and do it better. Let me be the first

to …’

Kadakithis, forgotten, cleared his throat.

Both men stared at the prince severely, as if a child had interrupted adults.

Tempus bowed low in his saddle, arm out-swept. The rider in reds with the

burnished cuirass tucked his helmet under his arm and approached the chariot,

handing the second horse’s tether to Tempus as he passed by.

‘Abarsis, presently of Ranke,’ said the dark, cultured voice of the armoured

man, whose hair swung black and glossy on a young bull’s neck. His line was old,

one of court graces and bas-relief faces and upswept, regal eyes that were

disconcertingly wise and as grey-blue as the huge horse Tempus held with some

difficulty. Ignoring the squeals of just-met stallions, the man continued: ‘Lord

Prince, may all be well with you, with your endeavours and your holdings,

eternally. I bear reaffirmation of our bond to you.’ He held out a purse, fat

with coin.

Tempus winced, imperceptibly, and took wraps of the grey horse’s tether, drawing

its head close with great care, until he could bring his fist down hard between