Thieves World 4 – Storm Season by Asprin, Robert

flesh bonded to a sharkskin hilt. . . .That gave him pause, for it was his own

sword, come from where-ever the mages secreted it, which moved in his hand. Pink

glowed that blade, as always when his god sanctified His servant’s labor. His

right was un-tenanted, suddenly, but Vashanka’s strength was in him, and it must

be enough.

He fought it unto exhaustion, he fought it to a draw. The adversaries stood in

clouds, typhoon-breaths rasping, both seeking strength to fight on. And then he

had to say it: “Let this slight go, Stormbringer. Vengeance is disappointing,

always. You soil yourself, having to care. Let her stay where she is, Weather

Gods’ Father; a mortal sojourn will do her good. The parent is not responsible

for the errors of the child. Nor the child for the parent.” And deliberately, he

put down the shield the god had given him and peeled the sticky swordhilt from a

skinless palm, laying his weapon atop the shield. “Or surmount me, and have done

with it. I will not die of exhaustion for a god too craven to fight by my side.

And I will not stand aside and let you have the babe. You see, it is me you must

punish, not my god. I led Askelon to Cime, and disposed her toward him. It is my

transgression, not Va-shanka’s. And I am not going to make it easy for you: you

will have to slaughter me, which I would much prefer to being the puppet of yet

another omnipotent force.”

And with a growl that was long and seared his inner ear and set his teeth on

edge, the clouds began to dissolve around him, and the darkness to fade away.