Thieves World 4 – Storm Season by Asprin, Robert

must, to see him through it. No remonstrance or doubt had shown in the fighter

called Stealth’s open countenance, that Tempus would come here against Askelon’s

wishes, and risk a Stepson’s life. It was war, the boy’s calm said, what they

both did and what they both knew. Later, perhaps there would be explanations-or

not. Tempus knew that Niko, should he survive, would never broach the subject.

“Torchholder, I think you ought to go see to the First Consort’s baby,” he said

as his hand came down heavily on the palace-priest’s be-baubled shoulder.

Torchholder was already pulling on his beard, his mouth curled with anger, when

he turned. Assessing Tempus’ demeanor, his face did a dance which ended in a

mien of knowing caution. “Ah, yes, I did mean to look in on Seylalha and her

babe. Thank you for reminding me, Hell-Hound.”

“Stay with her,” Tempus whispered sotto voce as Molin sought to brush by him,

“or get them both to a safer place-“

“We got your message, this afternoon, Hound,” the privy priest hissed, and he

was gone.

Tempus was just thinking that it was well Fete Week only came once yearly, when

above him, in the pink, tented clouds, winter gloom began to spread; and beside

him, a hand closed upon his left arm with a numbingly painful grip: Jihan had

arrived.

6

Askelon of Meridian, entelechy of the seventh sphere, lord of dream and shadow,

faced his would-be assassin little strengthened. The Hazards of Sanctuary had

given what they could of power to him, but mortal strength and mortals’ magic

could not replace what he had lost. His compassionate eyes had sunken deep under