Thieves World 4 – Storm Season by Asprin, Robert

bad. I can’t describe enough-how bad. But that won’t happen; I know you’ll take

good care. Go back to your lodgings. For now, go there. We’ll see about later.”

“How long?” Mradhon asked tautly, not favoring this threatening and believing

every word of it. “Maybe I should move in here-to keep an eye on them.”

“Out,” said Mor-am.

“Money,” Mradhon said.

“Moria,” the hawkmask said.

The woman uncurled from the cot, fished a bit from the purse she wore and

offered it to him.

He took it, snatched it from her fingers without a look, and strode for the

door. Mor-am got out of his way and he opened it, stepped out into the foul wind

and the dark and the reek of the alley, and walked, out onto the main way again.

Doubtless one of them would follow him. His mind seethed with possibilities, and

murder was one. -For less than the silver, any one of them would kill. He sensed

that. But there was the chance too that the hire was real: their casualties were

real, and they could not get too many offers now.

He padded as quickly as he could toward his own territory down the main road,

down which the last few stragglers moved, homeless and searching, muddle-minded,

some, which kleetel left of one when its use had been too long; or moving with

purpose it was unwise to stare at. He strode along in a world of faceless shapes

and lightless buildings, everything anonymous as himself. Hooves sounded in the

dark, moving in haste, and in a moment the streets were clear, himself among the

lurkers that hid along the alleys: a. quartet of riders passed toward the