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

there was this thrice-cursed fleet of merchant warriors come to harbour talking

‘peaceful trade’ while their vessels rode too low in the water to be filled with

grain or cloth or spices – if not barter, his instinct told him, the Burek

faction of Beysib would settle for conquest.

He was past caring; things in Sanctuary were too confused for one man, even one

near-immortal, god-ridden avatar of a man, to set aright. He would take Jihan

and go north, with or without the Stepsons – his accursed presence among them

and the love they bore him would kill them if he let it continue: if the god was

truly gone, then he must follow. Beyond Sanctuary’s borders, other Storm Gods

held sway, other names were hallowed. The primal Lord Storm (Enlil), whom Niko

venerated, had heard a petition from Tempus for a clearing of his path and his

heart: he wanted to know what status his life, his curse, and his god-bond had,

these days. He awaited only a sign.

Once, long ago, when he went abroad as a philosopher and sought a calmer life in

a calmer world, he had said that to gods all things are beautiful and good and

just, but men have supposed some things to be unjust, others just. If the god

had died, or been banished, though it didn’t seem that this could be so, then it

was meet that this occurred. But those who thought it so did not realize that

one could not escape the intelligible light: the notice of that which never

sets: the apprehension of the elder gods. So he had asked, and so he waited.

He had no doubt that the answer would be forthcoming, as he had no doubt that he