Hanse had another need for becoming proficient with arms, and better than
proficient. It was Hanse’s secret, and it was bigger than Sanctuary itself.
He collected from Tempus, though not in coin. That immortal had offered to make
him a bladesman. (As for the horse . . . well, it was something of value and
prestige, at least. Horses and Hanse were not friends and he hoped never never
to fight from the back of one. But for a horse, he’d be rich!)[ii]
Tempus did not know why Hanse had changed his mind and sent word that he was
minded to learn swordsmanship. He was pleased, Hanse was sure of that. Just as
he and his ego were sure that he must be the best student Niko had ever had.
Already, he was sure, he was incredibly good. Hanse never needed the same
instruction twice. He never repeated an error. He was good. Niko said so, and
Niko spoke for Tem-pus.
Leaving Niko now, the thief called Shadowspawn wore a tight little smile. It was
the pleased smile of one on whom a god has smiled; a pleased but enigmatic
smile. He says that I am good.
I hope so, Vashanka’s minion, he mused. Oh, I hope so. And I hope Vashanka finds
me better than good!
Hanse wended home, compact and lithe and darkly menacing, weighted with blades
at leg and hips and arms. There were those who were in the act of departing this
place or that but waited within doorways until he had passed; there were those
who stepped aside for him though he made no hostile move. They did not like it,
or like themselves for doing it, but they would do it again, for this