Thieves World 4 – Storm Season by Asprin, Robert

of range. Balustrus stopped, sighed and let the blade drag in the dust.

“We found it, lad,” he whispered.

He sent the apprentices into Sanctuary for a keg of ale. The soldiers and the

apprentices partook lavishly of it, but Balustrus did not. He continued to sit

in the courtyard with the fresh-ground blade across his hidden, crippled legs.

It was dark when Walegrin came out to join him.

“You are truly a master of metal,” the younger man said with a smile, setting an

extra mug of ale beside Balustrus.

The metal-master shook his head, declining both the ale and the compliment. “I’m

a shadow of what I was,” he said to himself. “So, now you have your Enlibrite

swords, son. And what will you do with them?”

Walegrin squatted in the moonlight. The ale had warmed him against the night

breezes and made him both more expansive and optimistic than usual. “With the

promise of swords I can recruit men-only a few at first. But we’ll travel north,

taking commissions-taking what’s necessary. I’ll hire more as I go. We’ll arrive

at the Wizardwall fully mounted and armored. We’ll prove ourselves with honor

and glory against the Nisibisi, then become the vanguard of a legion.”

Chuckling loudly, the metal-master finally took a sip of ale. “Glory and honor,

Walegrin, lad-what will you do with glory? What do you gain with honor? What

becomes of your men when Wizardwall and the Nisibisi are forgotten?”

Honor and glory were their own rewards for a Rankan soldier and as for war-a

soldier could always find a conflict or commission. Of course, Walegrin had