Theft Of Swords by Michael J Sullivan

Author:Michael J Sullivan [Sullivan, Michael J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780748131358
Publisher: Hachette Littlehampton
Published: 2011-10-05T21:00:00+00:00

“Want to explain why we are taking this job?” Hadrian asked, shielding his eyes as they stepped outside. The sky was a perfect blue, the morning sun already working to dry the lingering puddles from the night before. All around them people rushed to market. Carts loaded with spring vegetables and tarp-covered barrels sat trapped behind three wagons mounded high with hay. Out of the crowd in front of them, a fat man charged forward with a flapping chicken gripped tightly under each arm. He danced around the puddles, dodging people and carts and offering a muttered “Excuse me,” as he pressed by.

“She’s paying us ten silver for a job that has already cost us a gold tenent,” Hadrian continued after successfully skirting the chicken man. “It will cost us several more before we’re done.”

“We’re not doing it for the money,” Royce informed him as he cut a path through the crowd.

“Obviously, but why are we doing it? I mean, sure, she’s cute as a button and all, but unless you’re planning on selling her, I don’t see the angle here.”

Royce looked over his shoulder, displaying an evil grin. “I never even considered selling her. That could defray the costs considerably.”

“Forget I brought it up. Just tell me why we’re doing this.”

Royce led them out of the crowd toward Ognoton’s Curio Shop, whose window exhibited hookahs, porcelain animal figurines, and jewelry boxes with brass latches. They ducked around the side into the narrow bricked space between it and a confectioner shop that was offering free samples of hard candy.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t wondered what Esrahaddon has been doing,” Royce whispered. “That wizard was imprisoned for nine hundred years, then disappears the day we break him out and we don’t hear a word about him until now? The church must know, and yet the Imperialists haven’t launched search parties or posted notices. I would think that if the most dangerous man alive was on the loose, there might be a bit more of a commotion.

“Two years later he turns up in a tiny village and invites us to come visit. On top of that, he picks the elven frontier and Avempartha as the meeting place. Don’t you want to find out what he wants?”

“What is this Avempartha?”

“All I know is that it’s old. Real old. Some kind of ancient elven citadel. Which also begs the question, wouldn’t you like to get a peek inside? If Esrahaddon thinks there’s value in opening it, I’m guessing he’s right.”

“So we’re going after ancient elven treasure?”

“I have no idea, but I’m sure there is something valuable in there. But for that we need supplies and we need to get out of town before Price lets loose the hounds.”

“Well, as long as you promise not to sell the girl.”

“I won’t—if she behaves herself.”

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