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

She named other names and called them; she sent them deep, deep into the depths,

remembering them – all her men, most ruffians, a few gentle, a few obsessed with

hate. One had been a robber, dumped his victims in the harbour after carving up

their faces. One had been a Hell Hound: Rynner was his name; he used to play

games with prostitutes – his commander never knew. They were hate, raw hate:

there were some souls that responded best to them. There was a boy, come with

tears on his face; one of Moruth’s beggars; one ofKadakithis’s court, silver

tongued, with honey hair and the blackest, vilest heart. Up and up they came,

swirled near, a veritable cloud.

She spoke, through Stilcho’s lips, words in a language Stilcho would not have

known, that few living did. “Til dawn, ’til dawn, ’til dawn -‘

The dream stretched wide, passed beyond her control in a moment of panic. She

tried to call them back, but that would have been dangerous.

‘Til dawn, she had said.

* * *

There were so many pressing at the gates, so very many – Sanctuary, the whisper

went. Sanctuary’s open – and some went in simple longing for home, for wives,

husbands, children; some in anger, many, many in anger – the town inspired that,

in those it trapped.

A wealthy widow turned in bed from the slave she kept and stared into a dead

husband’s reproachful eyes: a yell rang out through marble halls, high on the

hill.

A judge waked, feeling something cold, and stared round at all the ghosts who

had cause to remember him. He did not scream; he joined them, for his heart