Thieves World 4 – Storm Season by Asprin, Robert

still carefully sealed in his saddlebag, but using it would eventually let

Kilite know he was still alive. It was better to remain an outlaw.

Hook-nosed, diminutive Thrusher was a man no-one would remember. Able and

single-minded, he’d never run afoul of the town’s dangers nor succumb to its

limited temptations. Walegrin would have a roof over his men’s heads by

nightfall and more water than they could drink to set before them. Wine too, but

Walegrin had almost forgotten the taste of wine.

As the afternoon shadows lengthened, Thrusher appeared on the dunes. Walegrin

waved him safe conduct. He put his heels to his horse and galloped the last

stretch of sand. Both man and beast had been cleansed of yellow grit. Walegrin

suppressed a pang of jealousy.

“Ho, Thrush! Do we sleep in town tonight?” one of the other men called.

“With full trenchers and a wench on each knee,” Thrusher laughed.

“By the gods, I thought we’re bound for Sanctuary, not paradise.”

“Paradise enough-if a man’s not choosy,” Thrusher told them all as he dismounted

and made his way to Walegrin.

“You seem satisfied. Is the town that much changed since we left it?” Walegrin

asked.

“Yes, that much. You’d think the Nisibisi rode this way. There are more

mercenaries in Sanctuary than in Ranke. We’ll never be noticed. The usual scum

fears to leave the shadows-and if a man knows how to use his sword there’s any

number who’ll hire him. Kittycat’s gold hasn’t been the best for many a month

now. He’s got to rely on a citizen’s militia to take up the slack from the Hell