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

on Tempus who came down the stairs behind Randal to deposit his silent, unmoving

bundles within the ox-cart.

The mage and the mercenary commander exchanged whispers which Walegrin couldn’t

hear above the sound of the rain. Then Tempus shut the door and came up beside

Walegrin.

“You know the route?” he inquired.

Walegrin nodded.

“Then don’t move off it. Randal can-take care of the magic regardless but if you

want protection from anything else you stay in sight of the spotters.”

With a noncommittal grunt Walegrin loosened the long whip from the bench beside

him and tickled the oxen’s noses. Tempus stepped quickly to one side as the cart

lurched into motion. The beasts had no halters or reins, responding only to the

whip and the voice of their drover. Walegrin figured he’d try to keep everything

moving from the driver’s bench but he imagined, accurately as it turned out,

that he’d be in the mud beside the oxen before they cleared the old Headman’s

Gate and lumbered onto the nearly deserted Street of Red Lanterns.

“It’ll be dawn before we get there,” Walegrin cursed when the rightside ox

paused to add its own wastes to the sludge in the street.

But the man-high solid wheels of the cart kept turning and the oxen were as

strong as they were slow and stupid. Straton and a pair of Stepsons joined the

procession where it cleared the last of the huge, stone-walled brothels. Strat,

a lantern dangling from the pike he carried in his right hand, brought his bay

horse alongside the ox-cart. Walegrin gripped at a dangling saddle-strap for