Thieves World 5 – The Face of Chaos by Asprin, Robert

pilings.

‘Mor-am -‘ Moria started forward, brought up short in Mrad-hon’sgrip.

‘Let him go,’ Mradhon said, and in his mind was a faint far dream of doing

something rash, breaking with sanity and heading for somewhere safe. To the

Stepsons, might be. But that was, lately, no way to a long life.

Haught was on his way – why, he had no idea, whether it was despair or

ensorcelment. ‘Wait,’ he called to Haught, losing control of things, but he had

lost that when he had come out here, blind-sotted as Moria at her worst. He let

her draw him up the stone facing, among the pilings, chasing after Haught at the

first, but then joining him in the open, where anyone might spy them.

There was the empty guard station, the pole standing vacant.

‘They got him down,’ Haught said.

‘Someone did,’ Mradhon muttered, looking about. He felt naked, exposed to view.

The rain spattered away at the board surface of the bridge, a shadowed span

leading through the dark to Downwind, to Ischade. A distant, solitary figure

flitted like illusion at its other end, lost itself into Downwind, among its

shuttered buildings. Here they stood, neither one place nor the other, neither

in the Maze of Sanctuary nor in the Downwind, belonging now to no one.

And there was no hiding now.

Haught started across the bridge. Mradhon followed, with Moria beside him, and

all he could think of now was how long it took to get across, to get out of this

nakedness. Someone was coming their way, a shambling, raggedy figure. He

clutched his cloak about him, gripped his sword as this beggar passed; he dared