Thieves World 4 – Storm Season by Asprin, Robert

down another street. Then he looked down at his gift. All in shades of blue and

some green, with a flash of yellow-gold embroidery. A fine tunic, and a cloak

considerably better than good. Good clothing!

Clothing so fine existed in Sanctuary, of course. No S’danzo girl had any of it

though, nor did a youth who gained his living by stealth.

Whence, then, came this soft fabric?

From the same place those words came from, he thought, for they were not

Mignureal’s words. And again the phrases Son of the Shadow and Chosen of Ilsig!

A shiver claimed Hanse then, and possessed him for a long moment.

” ‘Day to you, Hanse-ah! I see you had a good night, ‘s more like it, hum?” And

that acquaintance went on smiling, for what else could he think? Where else

could Hanse have gained such a bundle of finery, save through a bit of climbing

and breaking-and-entering on yesternight?

Hanse stood directing thoughts to his feet, and at last they began to respond.

He walked on, trying to make his bundle as small as he could, lest some member

of the City Watch espy him, or a Hell-Hound from the palace, or someone nosy

enough to consider turning him in or blabbing it about that Hanse had stolen

good soft, decorated clothing sufficient to pay his room’s rent for the next

twelvemonth.

Hanse had received coded messages beforetimes, and had devised the meaning. He

did so this time. He knew where he was invited. (Invited? Bidden! Summoned!)

Away up on the craggy hill now called Eaglebeak was a long untenanted manse. It

lay partially in ruins, that magnificent home its long-ago builder and tenant