Robert Asprin - TW 06 - Wings of Omen

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Thieves' World Book #06

Wings of Omen

Edited by Robert Lynn Asprin

EDITORIAL CLARIFICATION

Recently, there have been various short stories and one novel

published

involving a Thieves' World(tm) character. While the characters appearing in

the

stories in these anthologies remain the property of the individual

contributing

authors, there is just one Thieves' World universe. The events which impact

the

city of Sanctuary are chronicled in these anthologies and authorized spin-

off

products only. Do not be confused by the appearance of familiar names or

figures

in other works.

We are endeavoring to have an authorized Thieves' World product banner such

the one which appears on the cover of this book printed on existing and

future

material relating to the Sanctuary universe. In the meantime, for

your

information, a full list of tie-in works includes:

Anthologies THIEVES' WORLD Ace Fantasy Books

TALES FROM THE VULGAR UNICORN Ace Fantasy Books

SHADOWS OF SANCTUARY Ace Fantasy Books

STORM SEASON Ace Fantasy Books

THE FACE OF CHAOS Ace Fantasy Books

WINGS OF OMEN Ace Fantasy Books

SANCTUARY (hard cover) Science Fiction Book Club

Novels BEYOND SANCTUARY by Janet Morris (coming in

May 1985 as a Berkley Trade

Paperback)

BEYOND WIZARDWALL by Janet Morris

BEYOND THE VEIL by Janet Moms

Games THIEVES' WORLD (fantasy Chaosium role playing)

TRAITOR (FRP supplement)

FASA DARK ASSASSIN (FRP FASA supplement)

FASA SPIRIT STONES (FRP supplement)

SANCTUARY (board game) Mayfair Games

CONTENTS

Introduction Robert Lynn Asprin

What Women Do Best Chris and Janet Morris

Daughter of the Sun Robin W. Bailey

A Breath of Power Diana L. Paxson

The Hand That Feeds You Diane Duane

Witching Hour C. J. Cherryh

Rebels Aren't Born in Palaces Andrew J. Offutt

Gyskouras Lynn Abbey

A Fish With Feathers Is Out of His Depth Robert Lynn Asprin

A Special Note From the Editors

INTRODUCTION

by Robert Lynn Asprin

The birds of Sanctuary are black. From the hawklike predators to the

small

seedeaters the native birds are black as the heart of a thief.

Hakiem, once the town's leading storyteller, had never paused to reflect on

the

coloration of the birds before. At moments like this, however, when the

business

of the Bey-sa's court was between members of the Beysib clans and conducted

their own incomprehensible tongue, there was little for the Empress's

native

adviser to do but fidget and reflect. Habits evolved during long years

drinking

at the Vulgar Unicorn had positioned him with his back to a wall and a

clear

path to the doors-coincidentally he had gotten himself an equally clear view

out

a window into the courtyard below. The movement of the birds caught his eye;

found himself watching their antics closely.

When the Beysib arrived in Sanctuary they brought, along with their gold

and

their snakes, a substantial flock of non-migratory seabirds they called the

bey

art-as they called their snakes beynit, their flowers beyosa and their

goddess

Mother Bey. Every day they threw bread and tablescraps into the courtyard

feed their winged allies. The birds of Sanctuary, who could not tell a

palace

courtyard from the back door of a Maze slophouse, swarmed to this easy feast

and

fought savagely among themselves-though the Beysib made sure there was

enough

for all. Some black birds cawed or shrieked to drive off new arrivals,

while

others took vengeful pursuit of any bird attempting to make off with a

morsel

too large to be consumed on the spot.

Two of the white beyari-the birds for whom the food was intended-

soared

majestically into the courtyard. In an instant all individual differences

among

the black birds were forgotten; they rose in a single, dark cloud to drive

off

the interlopers. No, not quite all, the storyteller observed. A few

cleverer

birds remained behind, hurriedly bolting food while their comrades and

rivals

were momentarily distracted.

The storyteller smiled to himself. From high to low everyone in

Sanctuary

behaved the same-even the birds.

A flicker of white on the roof across from the window caught Hakiem's eye.

One

beyari was perched beside a black bird half-again its size. There was

occasional flutter of wings and much head-bobbing, but neither bird was

giving

ground. The storyteller was no regular bird-watcher; it seemed unlikely that

the

two could mate-but they certainly weren't fighting. Perhaps-

"Hakiem!"

He jerked his attention back to the court, discovering that the business

had

been concluded and the parties dismissed. Shupansea, Beysa of the Beysib

Empire,

had risen onto one elbow from the supine position in which she

traditionally

conducted state affairs and was staring at him with her large, amber,

and

inhumanly unblinking eyes. She was young, not past her mid-twenties,

slender,

and fair-skinned with thigh-length blonde hair that cascaded onto the pillows

a way that only the finest of silks could hope to imitate. Her breasts

were

bare, in the Beysib tradition, and so firm with youth that even when she

moved

the dark, tattooed nipples regarded him as steadily as her eyes.

Of course, Hakiem was himself sufficiently advanced in age that such a

sight

left him unmoved-almost.

"Yes, 0 Empress?"

He gave a slight bow, cutting his thoughts, and his glance, short before

either

progressed too far. As a street storyteller he had always been polite to

those

who gave him a few coppers in return for his entertainments. Now, with the

hefty

stipend he was receiving in gold, he was a paradigm of courtesy. .

"Come, stand beside us," she said, holding out a dainty hand. "We fear we

will

need your advice in this next matter."

Hakiem bowed again and proceeded to her side with unhurried dignity. As

walked he took secret delight in the jealous stares directed at him from

the

other courtiers. During his short time at court, the storyteller and the

Empress

had developed a mutual respect for each other. More importantly, they found

they

liked each other, a condition which had brought Hakiem favored

treatment.

Privately he suspected that his elevated status was not so much a compliment

him as it was the Beysa's way of keeping her own clanfolk in line, but

reveled in the attention while he had it.

The next petitioners were ushered in and, dutifully, Hakiem directed

his

attention to the problems at hand. He did not know the three Beysib in the

group

save they weren't clan Burek aristocrats and therefore must be Setmur

fishermen.

The townspeople he recognized at once as the pillars of Sanctuary's

fishing

community: Terci, Omat, and the one everyone called the Old Man.

Usually

citizens of Sanctuary appeared at court in the company of Beysib clansmen

when

one group or the other had a serious grievance to air, but this group

radiated

no animosity at all.

"Greetings, Monkel Setmur, Clanchief," Shupansea intoned in the singsong

pidgin

Rankene which passed for a common dialect these days in the city. "Too long

have

you been absent from our presence. What matter have you brought before

today?"

The smallest, and perhaps the youngest, of the Beysib stepped nervously

forward.

"Greetings, 0 Empress. We... we have come before you this auspicious day to

seek

your favor and blessing on a project."

The Beysa nodded thoughtfully, though Hakiem glimpsed puzzlement in her

manner.

It was clear enough to him: requests for money sounded the same in any

dialect.

"Tell us more, Clanchief," she requested.

"It is well known that the arrival of our fleet has caused havoc among the

local

food sellers," the youth said carefully; he had plainly memorized his

speech.

"As the nearby farmlands were already overworked, it has fallen to the

fishing

boats to provide enough food to feed not only us, but the townspeople

well...."

"Yes, yes," Shupansea interrupted. "But what of your project?"

Monkel glanced at his colleagues for support, then straightened his

shoulders.

"We-that is, clan Setmur and the Sanctuary fishermen-wish permission,

and

financial assistance, for building a boat."

"A boat?" The Beysa swiveled into a sitting position. "We have fifty-odd

boats

rotting at anchor in the harbor. Use one of them if you need another boat."

The Clanchief nodded; he had expected this response. "0 Beysa, our boats

were

built for long sea voyages and the safe transport of passengers and cargo.

They

are ill-suited for chasing schools of fish. For months now we have put to sea

our scout-craft beside these native fishermen and learned much of the

waters

here. Our friends here, with their keelless boats, cannot chase the fish to

deep

water where they feed in greater numbers; our scout-craft reach the deep

water,

but have no holds for the fish. We will make a new type of boat-as big inside

a Sanctuary boat and as seaworthy as our scouts. We ask your permission to

lay

the keel... and, er, for your support."

"But why can't the big boats...?"

Hakiem cleared his throat noisily. Shupansea paused and waited for her

adviser

to speak. "The Beysa will require time to consider your proposal and

will

consult with Prince Kadakithis before making a decision. Return tomorrow

for

your answer."

Monkel looked at his Beysa with glazed eyes-totally shocked by the

impropriety

of a commoner speaking for the Avatar of Mother Bey-but she simply nodded

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摘要：

Thieves'WorldBook#06WingsofOmenEditedbyRobertLynnAsprinEDITORIALCLARIFICATIONRecently,therehavebeenvariousshortstoriesandonenovelpublishedinvolvingaThieves'World(tm)character.Whilethecharactersappearinginthestoriesintheseanthologiesremainthepropertyoftheindividualcontributingauthors,thereisjustoneTh...

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Robert Asprin - TW 06 - Wings of Omen

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