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

in sane weather, when the river was tamer. But this one hit the water and

rode calm, stayed close as if there were no currents tearing at it, as if it

and the river obeyed two madly different laws.

‘G-get him in,’ Mor-am said, and coming to the edge, Mradhon took the limp

weight all to his side, going into water to the knee to reach the boat,

staggering as he flung the body down. The boat hardly rocked. He gripped the

side of it, stood there, uselessly, to steady it. Haught crouched on the muddy

shore, head down, breathing in great gulps.

‘Sh-she said w-wait,’ Mor-am said.

Mradhon stood, still leaning on the side, his feet going numb and the sweat

pouring down his face into his eyes. Go out in this against orders – no. He saw

Moria collapsed, head and arms between her knees, in the clearing of the sky

that afforded them some starlight; saw Mor-am’s hooded shape standing further

up, holding to the rope. When he glanced across the river, he could see

Sanctuary’s lights, few at this hour, could see the bridge, sane and

reasonable crossing.

And from the man they had carried all this way, there was no sound, no movement

– dead, Mradhon thought. They had just carried a corpse away from Moruth; and

everyone was robbed.

Stones rattled, high among the brush. Heads lifted, all round; and she was

there, coming down, gliding down the rocks like a fall of living dark, making

only occasional sound. ‘So,’ she said, reaching them. She put out a hand and

brushed Mor-am. ‘You’ve redeemed yourself.’

He said nothing, but limped down to the water’s edge, and Haught and Moria were