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

a man I met true readings. I need a truth that you won’t find in my face.’

The S’danzo looked at the caravan-master again, her smile still professional,

but something new behind her eyes. Samlor’s boot heels were high enough to grip

stirrups, low enough for walking, and worn more by flints than by pavements. He

was stocky and no longer young; but his waist still made a straight line with

his rib cage, with none of the bulge that time brings to easy living. Samlor’s

tunic was of dull red cloth, nearly the shade of his face. His skin never seemed

to tan in the sun and wind that beat it daily. His only touch of ornament was a

silver medallion, its face hidden until the man moved to show the bullion in his

calloused palm. Then toad-faced Heqt flashed upward, goddess ofCirdon and the

Spring rains – and the S’danzo gasped, ‘Samlor hil Samt!’

‘No!’ the man said sharply in answer to the way Illyra’s eyes flicked towards

the doorway, towards the ringing of hot iron heard through it. ‘Only

information, lady. I wish’you no harm.’ And he did not touch the hilt of his

belt knife, because if she remembered Samlor, she remembered the tale of his

first visit to Sanctuary. No need to threaten what his reputation had already

promised, wish it or not. ‘I want to find a little girl, my niece. Nothing

more.’

‘Sit, then,’ the S’danzo said in a guarded voice. This time the visitor obeyed.

He held the silver out to her between thumb and forefinger, but she opened his

palm and held it for her gaze a moment before taking her payment. ‘There’s blood