Beyond Sanctuary by Janet Morris

Author:Janet Morris [Morris, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, General, Fantasy, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780441056354
Publisher: Ace
Published: 1984-12-31T13:00:00+00:00

* * *

Having nothing better to do, Tempus had taken to stalking with one of Grille's six-man teams, the first night under their leader, to learn the ins and outs of Tysian brigandry, thereafter as their leader. They broke up gatherings of more than three on any street and pulled rabblerousers off their boxes; they chased down a pair of Nisibisi agents and brought them in where Ran! an mages performed the equivalent of putting salt upon their tails—binding them with holding spells so that when they returned to consciousness they couldn't change their shapes and disappear, slipping the strongest temporal chains.

From that pair, information had come of a nest of spies, southwest of the free zone, disguised as nobles holed up in the Outbridge district in an estate hectares wide and walled and fortified so that its inhabitants could hold off an army for months, unaided.

The team was well-honed, three of them seasoned mercenaries, the other three Rankan specialists in guerrilla warfare. They scaled the estate's walls in silence, poisoning as many dogs as possible, first with meat thrown over, and, all in blacks with weapons sheathed to hide their glitter and every piece of metal which might clink or jangle wrapped in dark cloth, they made their way toward the main house, crossbows drawn and quarrels tipped with poison drawn from almond shells.

This night action didn't sate, but suited, a man in his position. He'd cursed Jihan when he couldn't find her. Like the gods, she had deserted him. He put her, six times and more each day, firmly out of mind.

When he'd raped the widow Maldives, Grillo's mistress, he'd learned a bit of Tysian lore and a few things Grillo might prefer he didn't know, but he'd not enjoyed it as once he would have.

She had, but that was beside the point. Women come in as many varieties as horses, and this one was an activist, a fierce sort who'd been born to the Tysian insurrection and took his arrival as a sign that the Lord Storm, her own patron, had sanctified their struggle for freedom, and his willingness to strip her and split her as a sublime affirmation of her writ.

He'd felt manipulated, after, but gotten good information from her. And he'd made, despite his intentions, a friend who, if she could be believed, he could count on "as Grillo does, my lord."

He had enough troubles without a "friend" in Tyse, but he'd let it pass without a word. She was tough and she was knowledgeable of the environs. She might prove useful, or prove to be a gift of conciliation from gods who, for their own reasons, would not come to him or speak with him. He didn't expect her to live much longer, since she craved his company, but even that, he didn't say.

Out here, among the troops, he took revenge upon the town and even upon the gods—Enlil, who snubbed him; Vashanka, left behind but not forgotten—and on the mages whose forebears had bequeathed him his current plight.

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