Thieves World 4 – Storm Season by Asprin, Robert

Three years of desperate, often dangerous searching had brought him to the mine.

They’d filled two wagons with the rich ore and defended it with their lives-but

in the depths of his heart Walegrin had not believed he’d found the actual

steel: a steel that could shatter other blades; a steel that would bring him

honor and glory.

He found his military sword in the dust at his feet and offered it to his

lieutenant.

“Take this,” he ordered. “Strike at me!”

Thrusher hesitated, then took a half-hearted swipe.

“No! Strike, fool!” Walegrin shouted, raising the Enlibrite blade.

Metal met metal with the same resounding clang as before. The shortsword did not

shatter, but it took a mortal nick to its edge. Walegrin ran his fingers along

the unmarred Enlibrite steel and whooped for joy.

“The destiny of all Ranke is in our hands!”

His men looked at one another, then smiled with little enthusiasm. They believed

in their commander but not necessarily in his quest. They were not cheered to

see their morose, intense officer so transformed by an off-color sword-however

good the metal and even if it had saved his life. Walegrin’s exaltation,

however, did not last long.

They found Malm’s body some twenty paces from the fire, a deep wound in his

neck. Wale-grin closed his friend’s eyes and commended him to his gods-not

Walegrin’s gods; Walegrin honored no gods. Malm was their only casualty, though

they could ill afford the loss.

In grim silence Walegrin left Malm and returned to ransack the headless corpse

by the wagon. Its belt produced a sack of gold coins, freshly minted in the