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

their right palms.

Samlor strode out of the Bazaar. He was thinking about a child. And he was

thinking that murder might not always be without pleasure, even for him.

In the years since Samlor’s first visit to Sanctuary, the tavern’s sign had been

refurbished. The unicorn’s horn had been gilded, and his engorged penis was

picked out with red paint, lest any passerby miss the joke. The common room

stank as before, though it was too early to add the smoky reek of lamp flames.

There were a few soldiers present, throwing knucklebones and wrangling over who

owed for the next round. There were also two women who would have looked

slatternly even by worse light than what now streamed through the grimy windows;

and, by the wall, a man who watched them, and watched the soldiers, and – very

sharply – watched” Samlor as he entered the tavern.

No one was paying any attention to the fellow in the corner with the sword, the

lute, and a sneer of disgust at the empty tankard before him. ‘Ho, friend,’

Samlor called to the slope-shouldered bartender. ‘Wine for me, and whatever my

friend with the lute is drinking.’ The instrument had inlays of ivory and

mother-of-pearl, but Samlor had noticed the empty sockets, which must recently

have been garnished with gems.

The women were already in motion, lurching from their stools – remoras thrashing

towards the shark they hoped would find their next meal. It was to the pimp

against the wall that Samlor turned with a bright smile, however. ‘And for you,

sir -‘ he said. His thumb spun a coin through the air. Its arc would have