As for krrf, I know nothing about… any … krrf.’ But the man was gone,
and Lastel was trembling with rage, thinking he had been in purgatory too long;
it .had eroded his nerves!
4
When the dusk cooled the Maze, Shadowspawn ducked into the Unicorn. One-Thumb
was not in evidence; Two-Thumbs was behind the bar.
He sat with the wall supporting him, where the story-teller liked to sit, and
watched the door, waiting for the crowd to thicken, tongues to loosen, some
caravan driver to boast of his wares. The mercenaries were no boon to a thief,
but dangerous playmates, like Kadakithis’s palace women. He did not want to
be intrigued; he was being distracted moment by moment. As a
consequence, he was very careful to keep his mind on business, so that he would
not come up hungry next Ilsday, when his funds, if not increased, would run out.
Shadowspawn was dark as iron and sharp like a hawk; a. cranked crossbow, loaded
with cold bronze and quarrels to spare. He wore knives where a professional
wears them, and sapphire and gold and crimson to draw the eye from his treasured
blades.
Sanctuary had spawned him: he was hers, and he had thought nothing she did could
surprise him. But when the mercenaries arrived as do clients to a strumpet’s
house, he had been hurt like a whore’s bastard when first he learns how his
mother feeds him.
It was better, now; he understood the new rules.
One rule was: get up and give them your seat. Hanse gave no one his seat. He
might recall pressing business elsewhere, or see someone he just had to