Thieves World 8 – Soul of the City by Asprin, Robert

She bore the indignity of being hauled up like a sack of dead fish, knowing that

the worst was yet to come.

“0 gods, no-” a familiar voice breathed softly. “Not you-“

Kama refused to look in that direction but stared instead at the young-ish

officer in charge of the garrison troops who had pursued, then rescued, her.

“Well,” she demanded, “are you satisfied or are you going to drag me up to the

palace?”

Walegrin felt his throat tighten. Not that he wasn’t accustomed to seeing a

woman in men’s clothing-in a thief’s night-dark clothing at that. This was

Sanctuary, after all. The garrison soldier guarding their flank was a woman he’d

hired himself and as nasty a fighter as was ever bred in the Maze. But the young

woman standing in front of him, her wet clothes plastered to her and her long

hair snapping like whips when she tossed her head, was the backbone and brains

behind the 3rd Commando, and probably the PFLS, for that matter. Worse-she was

Tempus Thales’s daughter.

“Who sent you?” he stammered, and had the god’s good luck to find the one

question that would leave her as uncomfortable as he was.

“Did your… did Tempus send you?” Strat asked, stepping into the light of a

freshly kindled torch.

Kama tossed her head, barely acknowledging Strat’s question, and stood silent

until Thrusher stepped forward and grabbed her weapon hand.

“Lady, you want to use this again?”

“Yes-let go of me-“

“Thrush.” Walegrin moved to restrain his lieutenant who had already unstoppered

his wineskin. “I’m sure the lady has her own… resources.”