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

especially the younger, hot-headed ones. There’s an element among them that does

not appreciate the current policy of restraint. Remember, these people are

exiles; they’ve just lost a war at home; they’ve got something to prove to

themselves. Sure, the older men say “Bide your time,” “We’ll go home next

year, or the year after that, or the one after that.” They weren’t the

ones on the battlefields getting their asses kicked.

‘The Beysa Shupansea listens to the old men, but now, with the murders of their

own people, she is becoming nervous herself. The clamour for a stronger hand is

rising …’

Molin was interrupted by the sound of someone banging on the outer door. ‘The

palace is a sponge,’ he complained, and he was in a position to know the truth.

‘Wait here and stay quiet, for god’s sake.’

Walegrin and Cythen pressed back into the shadows and listened to a loud,

unintelligible conversation between Molin and one of the Beysib lords. They did

not need to understand the words; the shouts told them enough. The Beysib was

angry and upset. Molin was having small success at calming him down. Then the

Beysib stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, and Molin rushed

back into the alcove.

‘They want results.’ He rubbed his hands together nervously, releasing the scent

of the oils he used on his skin. ‘Turghurt’s out there calling for vengeance and

his people are listening. After all, no Beysib would kill another Beysib in such

a crude manner!’ Molin’s voice spewed sarcasm. ‘I’ve got no great love for the