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

executions. Cythen stared, though not as well as the Beysib could stare, at

their faces and finally looked away, unable to find any individuality in the

barbaric features. Prism could have walked beside her and she would not have

known it.

One of the Beysib lords strode by, magenta pantaloons billowing around him, a

glittering fez perched atop his shaved head, and a well-scrubbed Sanctuary

urchin struggling with a great silk parasol behind him. Both Walegrin and Cythen

halted and saluted as he passed. That was the way now, if you accepted their

gold.

She was grateful for the shadows of the lower palace and the familiar sound of

servants shouting in Rankene at each other as they approached the much-reduced

quarters of Kadakithis and his retainers. In truth, though, she no longer wanted

to see the priest, if indeed she had ever wanted to see him. Her anger had

escaped and now she only wanted to return to her tiny room. But Walegrin pounded

on the heavy door and forced it open before the Torch’s pet mute could lift the

latch.

Molin set down his goblet and stared at Cythen in the old-fashioned way that

said: What has the cat dragged in this time? Cythen tugged at her tunic, well

aware that the clothes of a garrison soldier, no matter how clean or cared for,

were unseemly attire for a woman – especially one who had been an earling’s

daughter. And if he knew about Bekin, then he might have known the rest as well.

She would have run from the chamber, had that been an option, but since it

wasn’t, she squared her shoulders and matched his appraising look with one of