Stealers' Sky
( Thievs World - 12 )
Robert Asprin
Robert Asprin
Stealers' Sky
Dramatis Personae
The Townspeople
ABOHORR-One-thumbed proprietor of the Vulgar Unicorn, now owned by Strick.
SILKY-A barmaid at the Vulgar Unicorn.
AHDIOVIZUN; AHDIOMER VIZ; AHDIO-Proprietor of Sly's Place, a legendary dive within the Maze.
THRODE-An employee at Sly's Place.
CLEYA; JODEERA-The woman Ahdio loves, and who works for him at Sly's Place. Since she is far too beautiful to travel safely through the Maze, Ahdio has arranged for her to be protected by a disguise of ugliness. OULEH-A doubly endowed denizen ofSIy's Place.
AMOLI-Madam of the Lily Garden brothel, a place of ill repute and endless possibilities.
CHOLLANDAR; CHOLLY-A master of glues and rendering.
FELTHERYN THE THESPIAN-Actor, director, and producer of Feltheryn's Players, a small theatrical company which has found a better audience in Sanctuary than in the capital city.
GUSSELRAND-His wife and partner in all things.
LEMPCHIN-The youngest member of their acting company.
SNEGELRINGE-The romantic actor of the company.
ROUNSNOUF-The company comedian.
HAKIEM-Storyteller and confidant extraordinaire.
HANSE; SHADOWSPAWN-Native thiefofSanctuary, with often surprising friends and connections. He has recently returned from a lengthy stay in the north.
JUBAL-Prematurely aged former gladiator. Once he openly ran Sanctuary's most visible criminal organization, the Hawkmasks; now he works behind the scenes.
SALIMAN-His aide and only friend.
LALO THE LIMNER-A native Sanctuary artist whose paintings are more than they seem.
GILLA-His indomitable wife.
VANDA-their eldest daughter, employed as a companion to Lady
Kurrekai at the palace.
WEDEMIR-Their eldest son, a member of Walegrin's guard, in love with Vanda's friend, Rhian.
LATILLA-Their younger daughter, just on the edge of puberty.
ALFI-Their son, a lively nine-year-old.
MORIA-Once one ofJubal's Hawkmasks, then a servant of Ischade. She was physically transformed into a Rankan noblewoman before the magic died, and the transformation endures. She is in hiding with Slilcho.
MYRTIS-Madam of the Aphrodisia House.
STILCHO-Once one of Shade's resurrected minions. He was "cured" of death when magic was purged from Sanctuary.
ZIP-Bitter, young terrorist. Leader of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Sanctuary (PELS). Now he and his remaining fighters have been designated as officials responsible for peace in the city.
The S'danzo
ILLYRA-Half-blood S'danzo seeress with True Sight. Wounded by PELS in the False Plague Riots.
DUBRO-Bazaar blacksmith and husband to Illyra.
TREVYA-A crippled foundling presented to Illyra by Walegrin.
MOONFLOWER-Seeress of considerable talent and greater bulk mistakenly slain by Beysib bodyguards.
MIGNUREAL; MIGNUE-Her daughter, who loved Hanse and went north with him, but now dwells alone in Firaqa.
JILEEL-Another, younger daughter.
TERETAFF-Moonflower 's husband.
THE TERMAGANT-Oldest of the S'danzo women practicing her craft in Sanctuary.
The Magicians
ILSIGI MAGES:
MARKMOR-A powerful, ambitious, youthful wizard.
MARYPE-His arrogant, yet blundering, apprentice.
RANKAN HAZARDS DWELLING AT THE MAGEGUILD;
RANDAL; WITCHY-EARS-The only mage ever admitted into the Sacred Band of Stepsons or trusted by them. Now a teacher at the Mageguild.
DARIOS-An apprentice accidentally imprisoned in the Mageguild during the False Plague Riots. He was freed by Lalo, from whom he is now learning a different sort of magic. Before his imprisonment he was Rhian's fiance,
THOSE WHO ADHERE TO NO HIERARCHY OR DISCIPLINE BUT THEIR OWN:
ISCHADE-Necromancer and thief. Her curse is passed to her lovers, who die from it. Since the diminution of magic in Sanctuary, she has been in isolation at her house on the White Foal River
STRICK; TORAZELAN STRICK TIF1RAQA-White Mage who has made Sanctuary his home. He will help anyone who comes to him, but there is always a Price, sometimes trivial and sometimes not, for his aid.
AVENESTRA; AVNEH-Strick's increasingly obese assistant.
Visitors in Sanctuary
THE SHEPHERD-A figure of considerable mystery. By his panoply he might be an Ilsigi warrior-but all such men have been dead for years.
The Rankans living in Sanctuary
CHENAYA; DAUGHTER OF THE SUN-.4 beautiful and powerful young woman, the prince's cousin, who is fated never to lose a fight. In her arrogance and innocence she made more enemies in Sanctuary than even fate could handle and has left town until her reputation repairs itself.
DAYRNE-Her companion and trainer.
LEYN, OUIJEN, DISMAS, AND GESTUS-Her friends and gladiators at her father's school.
DAPHNE-Rankan noblewoman and first wife of Prince Kadakithis. Ostensibly sent to safety before the arrival of the Beysib, she was actually kidnapped and sold into slavery on Scavenger's Island, where Chenaya rescued her. She is now divorced from her husband.
PRINCE KADAKITHIS-Charismatic but somewhat naive half-brother of the assassinated Emperor, Abakithis.
LOWAN VIGELES-Half-brother of Molin Torchholder, father of Chenaya. A wealthy aristocrat self-exiled to Sanctuary and hoping to return to the Rankan capital in triumph someday. He operates a gladiator school at his Land's End estate and has built a small, temporary arena there.
MOLIN TORCHHOLDER; TORCH-Archpriest of Sanctuary's war-god (whichever deity that is at the moment). Architect for the rebuilt walls of Sanctuary. Supreme bureaucratic administrator of the city.
ROSANDA-His wife. from whom he has been estranged for several years. She lives with Vigeles at the Land's End estate.
RASHAN; THE EYE OF SAVANKALA-Priest and Judge of Savankala. Highest ranking Rankan in Sanctuary prior to the arrival of the prince; now allied with Chenaya's disaffected Rankans at Land's End.
RHIAN-A young woman who has taken service with Lady Kurrekai.
STEPSONS; SACRED BANDERS-Members of a mercenary unit loyal to Tempus. Their years in Sanctuary were maong the worst in their history. Many of them have already left town.
CRITIAS; CRIT-Tempus left him in charge of peacekeeping in Sanctuary when everyone else left. Also the partner ofStraton, though that pairing has been in disarray for some time now. STRATON; STRAT; ACE-Partner of'Critias. Injured by the PFLSat the start of the False Plague Riots. He has been Ischade's lover and, though her curse has not killed him, most of his former associates count him among Sanctuary's damned.
WALEGRIN-Rankan army officer assigned to the Sanctuary garrison where his father was slain by the S'danzo many years before. He is now one of three officers responsible for the peace in Sanctuary. He is also Illyra's half-brother.
The Beysib
SHUPANSEA; SHU-SEA-Head of the Beysib exiles in Sanctuary; mortal avatar of the Beysib mother goddess. Lover of Prince. Kadakithis, whom she wishes to marry.
KURREKAI-The Beysa's motherly cousin.
INTRODUCTION by Robert Lynn Asprin
Zaibar bristled and glared angrily as a passerby jostled his back, nearly dumping his lunch off his lap and over the edge of the wharf where he sat. The Hell-Hound's annoyance went unnoticed, however; the pedestrian continued on his way without a backward glance, picking his way through the crowds. Letting his tight-lipped frown soften into a twisted grimace, Zaibar shook his head with an inward sigh.
H
e'd have to find another place to eat his lunch in the future if he wanted any peace and quiet during his midday break. It used to be that the wharves were nearly deserted during the day between the time that the fishermen went out with the morning tide and the afternoon when they returned. Now there were trade ships arriving from the Beysib Empire loaded with goods, merchandise as often as not hawked directly from the boats, and the bargain hunters they drew were no different from the noisy, haggling crowds in the Bazaar proper.
Normally, Zaibar avoided tracking, much less participating in, the politics that seemed to thrive in Sanctuary like slime in a stagnant pond, preferring instead the narrow view of a career soldier. By that view, he simply followed his orders without concerning himself with the motivations or machinations of those who issued them. Lately, though, there seemed to be things afoot which affected him directly to a point where he could not purge them from his mind, or avoid speculating on their cause and effect.
One such thing was the town's growing prosperity. Apparently the Beysibs-in-exile who had taken up residence in Sanctuary were approaching some kind of peace or understanding with the powers-that-were in their old homeland. In any case, trade was beginning to develop with Sanctuary as the main port. That, coupled with the new construction (which required constant appraising and reappraising of one's habitual routes through town), was bringing money and jobs into Sanctuary at levels unheard-of when Zaibar first arrived here escorting Prince Kadakithis. Of course, prices on everything from food to women were going through the roof, at a rate that was rapidly outstripping his meager soldier's pay.
Even more noteworthy, however, was what was going on with the Rankan Empire itself, the authority to which the Hell-Hound was ultimately accountable for his actions-
Zaibar had been assigned to Kadakithis, and since that time had received his orders from the local power structure. The chain of command in Sanctuary had become incredibly convoluted over the years, though, with some units answerable only to faceless players in the capital itself, bypassing the prince's authority, and it had all but collapsed completely when Theron murdered his way to the Empire's throne. Now the Empire was in trouble to a degree that it was impossible to ignore, even for those such as Zaibar who would prefer to leave politics to others.
The Hell-Hound shook his head again, remembering with no small measure of disbelief the last briefing he had attended.
The big news of the briefing was that Theron was recalling the Rankan 3rd Commando and the remaining elements of the Stepsons back to the capital "for reassignment to assist in suppressing the civil disorder within the Empire." Even more surprising to Zaibar was the discussion which followed the announcement.
Rather than working out the details of how to effectively police the city in the face of this sudden loss of manpower, the meeting degenerated into an argument as to whether or not the units in question would comply with the Emperor's orders! Even now, there was little sign of them even going through the motions of preparing to leave.
To a career soldier like Zaibar, this was unthinkable ... and a far more chilling commentary on the Emperor's fading power than any idle street or barracks gossip. Once this door was open in his mind, countless little observations and oddities flooded through, turning his thoughts and speculations onto paths normally shunned.
He knew it had been some time since a tribute caravan had been sent from Sanctuary to the capital, as there had been no call for guards for such an expedition. Originally he had shrugged this off, thinking that perhaps the Empire had authorized that the extra tax monies be spent on the new construction in town. Now he wondered if the prince had simply decided to withhold the monies. If Ranke was unable to even collect taxes ...
This had come to a head when someone in the barracks had speculated that the units being recalled were actually going to return as a tax-collecting force. This was, of course, pooh-poohed by the other soldiers. If that was to be the new assignment, then why not give them their instructions while they were still here rather than having them travel all the way to the capital?
No, every indication was that the Empire itself was in dire straits, and in its desperation was turning its back on Sanctuary ... cutting it adrift while it tried to muster its strength and forces elsewhere. With the exception of a few isolated households who were conspicuously noisy in their loyalty and preference to all things Rankan, the Empire's influence was all but gone from Sanctuary ... and the recall of the troops was simply a final, confirming gesture.
It was with no small surprise that Zaibar realized that he no longer thought of the prince ... or himself ... as being Rankan. They had been absorbed into the permanent structure of this strangely addicting town. Sanctuary was their home now, and as much a part of them as they were a part of it. Ranke was just a name, at best annoying when it couldn't be ignored ... and it was getting easier to ignore it.
Realizing he was dawdling with his thoughts rather than eating or returning to duty, Zaibar rose and threw the uneaten portion of his lunch into the water. The scraps rippled the steel-grey water which reflected the blanket of clouds above.
Peace and prosperity had come to Sanctuary, the Hell-Hound thought, but it was like the indeterminate cloud cover which hung over the city. Would the sun burn through and bathe the town with warmth and light, or would the clouds thicken and darken into a storm?
A soldier could only watch and wait ... and adapt.
NIGHT WORK by Andrew Offutt
Hanse believes in very little and perhaps nothing. Therefore he's always ready for anything, particularly the unexpected. It's a trait that has served him well. Because he has to be a pragmatist. Shadowspawn is a pragmatist. -Strick
Wisdom is the ability to believe only what you have to. -the Eye
Shadowspawn ranged through Sanctuary like a hungry tiger on the prowl.
His real name was Hanse and Hanse was mad. Better put, he was angry, but he was mad, too, in a manner of speaking: mad with anger. Shadowspawn was hardly the first or the last person to be driven into a sort of madness by anger. He had done heroic deeds: he had broken into the manse of that sorcerer and stolen the earring that saved Nadeesh's life and enabled Strick to buy the Vulgar Unicorn from the old physician. And then by all gods, by the will of Injustice Himself-that evil gnomish dwarf who was left hand of ever-fickle Lady Chance-the heroic Hanse had been hit by a stagger spell, punched by three big toughs, drugged, bound, gagged, and popped into a big cloth bag. He had been hauled down to the dock, hauled onto a ship, and dumped into its hold. Destination: slavery, in the Bandaran Isles.
Yet that did not happen. The next time Shadowspawn emerged from the shadowless sack and saw light he was in the murky keep of that most sinister of men, Jubal. Jubal had bought him. True, after some smirking and sneering and taunting Jubal had freed him, but not as an act of decency or in exchange for the pitiful price the crime lord had paid. Oh, no. He had named a ridiculous sum, close to sixteen pounds of gold, and Hanse's only choice had been to agree. A ridiculous, monumental sumfive hundred pieces of gold! Ridiculous!
Ole Jubal, Hanse thought, must have been thinking with his nose, not his brain. And he wants to take over peacekeeping in Sanctuary. Right. And put me in charge of guarding all the jewelers and shops.
At least Hanse knew now that one of his kidnappers had been Tarkle, whose main occupation was being a bully- And Hanse was just as sure that Tarkle with his brain borrowed from a minnow hadn't acted solely on his own. No, the mage Marype with his pretty silver tresses must have thought up the vengeful plan for the disposal of HanseIShadowspawn, a plan that truly did involve a fate worse than death and so was truly wicked, and clever. Marype probably paid Tarkle, too.
Hanse knew four more things, all Musts. He would find Tarkle. He would find Marype. He would have his vengeance. And somehow, somehow he would pay Jubal his damned ridiculous price.
Of course I'm worth it, but that's beside the point.
Shadowspawn ranged through Sanctuary like a hungry
tiger on the prowl. And he could not find Tarkle.
Strick gazed across his blue-draped desk at the young woman there. From beneath a great mass of fiery hair that dribbled straggly red bangs over her brows and even eyes like an unkempt hedge, she stared anxiously back.
"I have interesting news for you," he told his visitor, whose name was Taya and whose scarlet mop of hair was a disguise, "from the princegovernor. He is without malice toward you. A small house and a guarantee of funds await you. They are sufficient to set you up in some business venture. You could also use it to leave Sanctuary, if you wish. This is genuine and only truth, Taya. As to my changing your appearance-yes, that is possible, but such a thing is not a matter of a few minutes and the Price may not please you. Meanwhile, you are best advised to go into hiding for a week or so. It is hardly what you're used to, but I'd recommend a room upstairs over the Vulgar Unicorn."
Her eyes had widened when he began, returned to something approaching normal as she took in his words, and now flared wide again. She flounced narrow and shapely shoulders. "That ... place?!"
The very big man spread his hands in a "why not?" gesture and his eyebrows said the same-he who looked like a swordshnger, a wealthy wizard's bodyguard, perhaps, and who was instead a wealthy wizard who was at the same time friend to prince and thief, Rankan noble and Ilsigi banker, carpenter and smith, whore and orange-peddler, He said, "Who's going to think of looking for you there?" She swallowed, stared at the close-fitting blue coif or hood without which no one had seen this man; she visibly considered, and at last nodded. "B-but I wouldn't dare even set foot in that-that ..."
"Careful, Taya," the spellmaster told her. "I own the place." He mirrored her nod. "The person waiting to see me right now will make the perfect guide, Taya. He will do it for me."
Two people sat in Strick's waiting area below. One, muffled in her costly shawl, was a mildly attractive noblewoman with a ghastly hairy wart erupting from her nose. Yes, Strick could and would deal with that, and be well paid for making her presentable again. The other, from whom she kept herself well clear, was an oldster with a voice out of a gravel pit. It was he that Strick's young assistant, Avenestra, beckoned to rise and follow, and he did, banging his staff as he walked. He was surprised to find someone else in Strick's office, and peered closely at her. Unusually keen of eye-especially at night-he recognized the softly weeping girl there with the white mage. She, meanwhile, glanced up at him and shrank at sight of wrinkled brown hands emerging from an old tan-once-brown robe with its hood all crumpled on his back and around his shoulders. His face was darkly shadowed by a funny feathered hat from some far place, doubtless to hide features ravaged by time and disease and even worse-if anything could be worse than time and disease to a very attractive young woman who had been concubine to the prince-governor from Imperial Ranke. Once-Imperial Ranke.
Stealers' Sky tw-12 Page 1
