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

Torchholder swallowed his pious words and looked to Walegrin for confirmation.

The blond, ice-eyed man simply nodded his head slightly and said: ‘It had been

suggested by Yorl. Cythen seemed the most appropriate one for the task; she

volunteered anyway.’

‘Harka Bey,’ the priest repeated, mulling over the words. ‘Vengeance of Bey, I

believe, in their language. I’ve heard rumours, legends, whatever about them,

but everybody’s denied that there’s anything to the legends. Poison-blooded

female assassins? And real enough that Cythen met with them? Very interesting,

but not at all what I’d expected.’

‘I believe, your Grace, that Yorl only suggested contacting the Harka Bey. It

seems unlikely that they would have killed the girl: Indeed they deny it,’

Walegrin corrected, clenching Cythen’s upper arm in a bruising grip to keep

her quiet.

‘What did you expect?’ Cythen demanded of Molin, wrenching free of Walegrin and

raising her voice. ‘Why is it so important that she slept with the Beysib men?

Which one of them do you suspect of murder?’

‘Not so loudly, child,’ the priest pleaded, remember, we survive on sufferance;

we can have no suspicions.’ He gestured to the mute, who went to the window and

began playing a loud folktune on his pipes. ‘We have no rights.’ Taking Cythen’s

arm, he ushered her into a cramped, windowless alcove, hidden behind one of his

tapestries.

Molin began to speak in a hoarse whisper. ‘And keep quiet about this,’ he warned

her. ‘The Aphrodisia is the favourite gaming place of our new lords and masters,