file:///F|/rah/Robert%20Asprin/Asprin%20[Ed.]%20-%20Thieves%20World%20-%2012%20-%20Stealers%20Sky.txt
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.
He'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
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