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She took those lean restless hands of a thief proud never to have hurt any he robbed. 'You will, Hanse. You will. It was god-sorcery, and no embarrassment. Will you now be careful?'
'I will.'
She studied his eyes. 'But you are going to find him.'
'I am.'
The adherents of the most ancient goddess Theba went hooded to their little temple. This was their way. It also made it easier for the government to keep them under surveillance, and made it easy for Hanse to slip among them. A little tilt to his shoulder, a slight favouring of one leg under the dull brown robe, and he was not the lithely gliding Shadowspawn at all.
The services were dull and he had never liked the odour of incense. It made him want to sneeze and go to sleep, both at once. Insofar as he ever gave thought to religion, he leaned towards a sort of loyalty to the demigod Rander Rehabilitatus. He endured, and he observed. This goddess's worship in Sanctuary included two blind adherents. Both carried staffs. Though only one was white, it was not in the grip of a left-handed man.
Finding his quarry really was as simple as that. On deserting his partner, the murderous thief had sneered 'Theba take you,' and Moonflower had Seen that goddess, or at least the likeness of her icons and amulets. She had no more than forty worshippers here, and only this one (part-time) temple. The thief had also struck away the terror-stick with his right hand and used his left to drive the dagger into his victim - and to use the staff on Hanse.
There came the time of Communing In Her. Hanse watched what the others did. They mingled, and a buzz rose as they said nice silly loving peace-things to each other in the name of Her. The usual meaningless ritual; 'peace' was a word and life and its exigencies were another matter. Hanse mingled.
'Peace and love to you, brother,' a woman said from within her wine-dark cowl, and her hand slipped into Hanse's robe and he caught her wrist.
'Peace and defter fingers to you, sister,' he said quietly, and went around her towards his goal. To be certain, he came cowl to cowl with the man with the white stick and, smiling, made a shamefully obscene gesture. The cowl and the staff did not move; a hand moved gently out to touch him.
'Her peace remain on you, my brother,' the blind man said in a high voice, and Hanse mouthed words, then turned.
'You rotten slime,' a cowl striped in green and red hissed. 'Poor blind Sorad has been among us for years and no one ever made such a nasty gesture to him. Who are you, anyhow?'
'One who thinks that other blind man is not blind and not one of us, and was testing - brother. Have you ever seen him before?'
His accoster - burly, in that striped Myrsevadan robe, looked around. 'Well ... no. The one in the gloves?'
'Yes. I think they are because his stick - yes, peace to you too, sister - has just been painted.'
'You think it's a disguised weapon? That.he's from the... palace?'
'No. I think the prince-governor couldn't care a rat's whisker about us.' Substituting the pronoun was a last instant thought, and Hanse felt proud of that touch. Playing 'I'm just like you but he is bad' had got him out of several scrapes. 'I do think he is a spy, though. That priest from Ranke, who thinks every temple should be closed down except a glorious new one to Vash - Vashi whatever they call him. I'll bet that's his spy.'
That made the loyal Thebite quiver in rage! He went directly towards the man in the forest green cloak, with the brown stick. Hanse, edging along towards the entrance of what was by day a belt-maker's shop, watched Striped Robe speak to the man with the staff. An answer came, as Hanse moved.
Hanse didn't hear the reply; he heard 'May all your days be bright in Her name and She take you when you are tired of life, brother.' This from the fat man beside him, in a tent-sized cloak.
'Oh, thank you, brother. And on you, peace in Her n-' Hanse broke off when the terrified screaming began.
It was the big fellow in the robe of green and red stripes, and his cowl fell back to show his fear-twisted face. Naturally no one understood, and other cries arose amid the milling of robed, faceless people. Two did understand, and both moved towards the door. One was closer. He hurried forth, ru
The man with the gloves and brown walking stick hurried through the door and turned left; had he not, Hanse would have called. The fellow had no time for anything before Hanse sent the vinegar sloshing within his hood.
'Ah!' Naturally the man ducked his head as the liquid drenched him and entered both eyes. Since he was not blind and not accustomed to carrying a staff as a part of him, he dropped it to rush both hands to his face. Hanse swallowed hard before snatching up the stick by its handle. He kicked the moaning fellow in the knee-cap, and ran. The god-weapon seemed hummingly alive in his hand, so much that he wanted to throw it down and keep ru
'Here, you little lizard, where do you think you're ru
That from the brutish swaggering desert tradesman who grabbed at Hanse as he ran by. Well, he was not of the city, and did not know who he laid big hand on. Nor was he likely to aught but hie himself out of Sanctuary, once he returned to normal - doubtless robbed. Besides, a test really should be made to be sure, and Hanse poked him.
This was the staff of ensorcelment, all right.
Hurrying on his way, Hanse began to smile.
He had the stick and the murdering thief who had used it on him would not be too nimble for a long, long time, and the robe he had snitched off a drying line was in the possession of a beggar who would be needing it in a few months, and Hanse had his little message from the prince-governor. It avowed - so Hanse was told, as he did not read - that 'he you specify shall lend full aid in the endeavour you specify, provided it is legal in full, in return for your returning another wand to us'.
Hanse had laughed when he read that last; even a prince had a sense of humour and could allude to Hanse's having stolen his Savankh, rod of authority, less than a month ago. And now Shadowspawn would have the aid of big strong super legal Tempus in regaining two bags of silver coin from a well up in the supposedly haunted ruins of Eaglenest. Hanse hoped Prince Kadakithis would appreciate the humour in that, too: the bagged booty had come from him, as ransom for the official baton of his imperial authority in Sanctuary. Even Tempus's krrf had brought in a bit of silver.
And now ... Hanse's grin broadened. Suppose he just went about a second illicit entry of the palace? Suppose a blind man showed up among the swarm of alms seekers to be admitted into the courtyard two days hence, in accord with Kadakithis's people wooing custom? Shadowspawn would not only hand this awful staff to the prince-governor, he would at the same time provide ., graphic demonstration of the palace's pitiable security.
Unfortunately, Tempus had taken charge of security. The hooded blind beggar was challenged at the gate two days thence, and the Hell Hound Quag suspiciously snatched the staff from him. When the disguised Hanse objected, he was struck with it. Well, at least that way it was proven that he had brought the right stick in good faith, and that way he did get to spend a night in the palace, however unpleasant in his state of terror.