Lynn Abbey - Thieves' World - Turning Points

again unless invited, Lone, and we will go in for some refreshment." "I promise," Lone said. "I even… uh… I had something to prove." "Still have," Chance said, rising with the apparent aid of his cane. Lone heaved a sigh and nodded. He had aborted, saying, "I even apologize," because it was hard, so

hard for him to say such words. They went inside, and Lone learned what it was like to have the

wherewithal to have a fast runner fetch ice from the mountains down to Sanctuary. Or, in this case, for a certain old master cat burglar to find a way to relieve Arizak's runner of his burden and make a gift of such rich bounty to a friend…

Ice weakened good ale a bit, but how good to a sweatily exercised man it was with a bit of coolth

added! And then a bit more without the ice, as the three men talked. The woman present talked but little, as was her habit, but she gazed much on the cocky youngster working so hard to control his natural cockiness and truculence. What a fascinating boy! How strangely… akin to him she felt!

Linnana knew already the story of Strick's nonpayment by Lord Arizak, even to the amount. Now she heard Chance lay out his desire to steal into Arizak's less than modest dwelling and relieve him of that exact amount.

"Not a quarter-ounce of copper more," Chance said, one finger upraised, "and not a quarter-ounce less." "Yet," Linnana put in, "there is or should be the matter of interest…" Strick smiled. "I have little doubt that opportunity will one day arise for me to extract that from the great

Arizak." She chuckled. Chance did not. Meeting the eyes of no one, he said, "How I long to do it! But my age and leg make me

unable to undertake that exciting piece of night work…" "Your age and arm, you mean, Master," Lone said, lest Chance think the youth still believed that he was

crippled in the leg, that the walking stick was necessary. "But the work will be done. I need only bethink myself of what I will need, and make a little list…" "You need make no list," Chance assured him. "I know exactly what you need, for in past I completed an

almost identical mission."

"Hmp," the Spellmaster said, without the hint of a smile. "Mission? Not on my behalf. Must have kept the swag to yourself!" His friend also did not smile. "Nah, nah. Gave it all to the poor and the Temple of Him Whose Name We

Do Not Pronounce, I did!"

Strick laughed with him, and continued to keep his peace about what he knew: his friend was indeed spawn of the shadows… or rather of the shadow god, Shalpa, usually referred to namelessly, as Chance just had.

"By four nights hence," Linnana suggested into the laughter, "we will have full dark of the moon, surely the

perfect time for such a wicked venture…" "But too easy," Chance said firmly. "By night after next the moon will be a mere tiny sliver—a fine working night for an excellent roach anxious to prove his talent and ability!"

Lone shrugged and endeavored to look relaxed and, above all, casually confident. Whatever the Shadowspawn said. At last he had achieved his goal, and here he sat, in the company of the man he most respected and admired. Naturally a youth with such a goal considered himself lucky to be in the service of Shadowspawn, no matter how much in his shadow! The only aspiration of the orphan Lone was to be as exactly like his idol as he could make himself— which meant doing things Shadowspawn's way, however dangerous.

"For one thing," Chance said, "you will need an archer." Lone cocked his head. "An archer?" "Someone good with a bow," Strick said, as if it were the meaning of the word that Lone did not grasp.

"And arrows." Without taking his gaze off Chance, Lone said, "Oh." "An archer who can loft an arrow upward, trailing a rope," Chance explained. "That gets you over the

Lord Arizak's wall, and maybe farther, as in higher." "Ah!" Lone bobbed his head, acknowledging something he had not thought of. "I, ah, know a girl who is expert with bow and arrow," Linnana said, and received strange looks from the

men, all thinking: a girl?! Strick said, "Would that be that teen daughter of Churga and Filixia?" She nodded. "Jinsy, aye. She practices every day behind their house, and the girl is good.'" Chance was looking uncomfortable, and wishing he were having this meeting with his apprentice

elsewhere, and just the two of them. "Uh… you sound like you're talking about a neighbor…" "Right," Linnana said, smiling brightly. "And very good friends. Jinsy will be thirteen next month." "Pardon me," Chance said, "but we are not going to use the child-daughter of well-off neighbors to help

break into the keep of the lord of Sanctuary."

"Their financial status has nothing to do with it," Strick said. "They are Ilsigi, and love Lord Arizak no more than you do." "Lone and I thank you," Chance said, "and we will recruit someone from within the Maze…" he broke

off, and a little smile tugged at his lips. "Or maybe in what remains of Downwind relocated to the Hill. Remember: I come from there." Having tried to help and been rejected, Linnana and her almost-husband sat back and looked grim.

"You will want to take rope with you, too," the master said.

"And something to bring out the coins in," Strick suggested.

Two experienced thieves gave him the sort of look he was not accustomed to: disdain. Strick and Linnana offered no more advice or help, and the plan was made. The offer was made and repeated, but the catwalker repeatedly turned down opportunity to spend the night in the manse. Then the man he had apprenticed himself to nodded and made the decision for him.

"We thank you three times, friends, for such kindness. You have two overnight guests: Shadowspawn and Catwalker."

Later, very quietly in a darkened room, Chance furthered the education of his apprentice: "We made them unhappy by accepting no help or advice from them. When people really want to do you a favor, let them if you can. That is doing them a favor. We are making them feel good by staying here tonight."

"Thank you, Master. Ah… Shadowspawn… I need all such advice you can give me."

"Here's another piece, then. Never call me that again."

"Yes sir."

Father Ils save us all, Chance thought, just before he fell asleep, for the ocean may go dry. Me, giving advice!

Two nights later three men in dark clothing stood in the dark area below the wall of the lordly keep of the master of Sanctuary. Two were clad all in black, the third only a shade less somberly. He alone wore headgear, a soft cap of dark gray. The oldest among them had relieved the youngest of his cloak and sword, in the interest of better mobility. With Lone ready to set off on the mission that neither of them considered the least bit dishonest, the trio watched the arrow go up, and up, and a grin of pride rearranged the beard of the ragtag former soldier Chance had recruited. He had proved his mettle. It was a perfect shot or appeared to be: the shaft caught, and here dangled the rope for Lone's use.

And no matter what plans the ocean might or might not have to go dry, Chance proved to have more advice to impart to his newfound apprentice. "If it's possible without overmuch danger," he counseled, "bring out the rope with you. Absolutely bring out the arrow, no matter what. And… Lone."

The younger man was gazing up at the wall, and the place where arrow and rope had disappeared. "Aye."

"Look at me."

Instantly, Lone did.

With the portentousness of master to assistant, Chance said, "You are going to be very proud, and you will want to leave some sign that you have been there. Do not."

Lone nodded. "Aye. May… may I ask why… Master?"

"Once in my weening pride I left proof to the man who then ruled this poor foreigners-saddled city, and after I was out it occurred to me that it was a bad idea to let him know how easily I could break into his palace, and out." "Ah." Lone's dark, dark head was bobbing. "And did ill come of that?" "No, except extra time and labor for me, for I felt obliged to steal back into the palace and remove the