Thieves World 7 – The Dead of Winter by Asprin, Robert

Land’s End with Rashan. I have greater standing with the Beysib Empire than with

my own.”

“Then take Beysib soldiers-it’s time they started earning their keep in this

town. We sweat bricks to protect them.”

“I’ll arrange something. You let me know when he’s there.”

So Molin moved among the men of Clan Burek, selecting six whose taste for

adventure was, perhaps, greater than their sense. He was still outlining his

plans when Hoxa announced that the borrowed carriage was ready. They roused both

children, and the dancer, Seylalha, from their beds. The Beysib bravos had not

exchanged their gaudy silks for the austere robes of Vashanka’s priests before

it was time to leave the Palace.

As predicted, Niko was drunk. Too drunk, Molin feared, to be of any use to

anyone, much less Gyskouras and Arton. The priest tested him with the sort of

pious cant guaranteed to get a rise out of any conscious Stepson. Wine had

thickened Niko’s tongue; he babbled about magic and death in a language far less

intelligible than Arton’s. There were rumors that Roxane had stolen Niko’s

manhood and bound the Stepson to her with webs of morbid sensuality. Molin,

watching and listening, knew the Nisi witch had stolen something far more vital:

maturity. With a nod of his head the Beysibs dragged the unprotesting Nikodemos

to the carriage.

He left them alone, trusting Stormbringer’s riddles and turning his attention to

the frightened little man the Beysibs were interrogating with a shade too much

vigor.

“What has he done?” the priest interceded.