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

sparks when it met and shattered inferior metal? The voice of her father, a

voice she thought she had forgotten, came to her: ‘Don’t watch what I do,’ he’d

snarled good-naturedly after batting aside her practice sword. ‘Watch what I’m

not doing and attack into that weakness!’

Cythen hunched down behind her sword and no longer retreated. However fast they

moved, those blades could not protect the Harka Bey everywhere, all the time.

Though still believing she would die in the attempt, Cythen balanced her weight

and brought her sword blade in line with her opponent’s neck: a neck which would

be, for some invisible fraction of time, unprotected. She lunged forward,

determined that she would not die unprotesting like the wheat.

Green sparks showered as Cythen absorbed the force of two blades slamming hard

against her own. The Beysib steel did not shatter – but that was less important

than the fact that all three blades were entrapped by each other and the tip of

Cythen’s blade was a finger’s width from the Harka Bey’s black-scarved neck.

Cythen had the advantage with both hands firmly on her sword hilt, while the

Harka Bey still had her two swords, and half the strength to hold each of them

with. Then Cythen heard the unmistakable sound of naked steel in the shadows

around her.

‘Filthy, fish-eyed bitches!’ Cythen exclaimed. The local patois, usually

unequalled for expressing contempt or derision, had not yet taken the measure of

the invaders, but there was no mistaking the murderous disgust in Cythen’s face