Imperial Assassin (26 page)

Read Imperial Assassin Online

Authors: Mark Robson

‘Guildmaster. A moment, please,’ he called softly.

‘Yes, Brother Dragon? What is it?’

‘There is something about Brother Wolf Spider that bothers me,’ he said, his voice hesitant.

‘And what is that?’

‘I don’t know, Guildmaster. A feeling. An instinct that tells me he will be trouble.’

‘That’s rather rich coming from you,’ the Guildmaster chuckled. ‘But Brother Viper indicated a similar feeling. Fear not, Brother Dragon. He will be watched carefully. On
second thoughts, given your feelings about him, I’d like you to be one of those to watch him. Be careful, Brother. From Viper’s report, he’s lacking in experience, but he’s
got a lot of raw talent. Don’t underestimate him. If he is here to betray us, then he may have more abilities than he has let us see.’

‘If the Guild have him, then you’ll never find him.’

‘The Guild must be based
somewhere,
Shedrick. It’s got to be here in Shandrim, because they react so damned quickly to events. Surely someone must know. No organisation can
keep their headquarters totally secret for ever.’

Femke’s frustration was building. She had tried to find the headquarters of the Guild of Assassins before, but had never taken the search seriously. Her previous search had been purely to
satisfy her personal curiosity. Information was her business, and it never hurt to anticipate the market. People were always looking to uncover secrets. The Guild of Assassins was one of the most
secretive societies ever formed. It stood to reason someone would want to know about it eventually.

‘Ah, but they can, Miss,’ Shedrick replied softly, his face twisting into a conspiratorial grin. He looked around nervously and lowered his voice still further. ‘They magic
away somewhere. They can . . . disappear.’

Femke almost laughed aloud at his dramatic conclusion, but she restrained herself. Shedrick was a good source. He was clearly serious about his statement. If he thought she was mocking him, he
might decide to take his information elsewhere. She needed Shedrick too much to lose him over such a trifle.

‘Disappear, Shedrick? Are you sure? I don’t want to doubt you, but if the assassins can disappear at will, then why are they ever caught?’

‘I don’t know, Miss, but I know it’s true. I’ve seen it, Miss. One minute he was there, the next there were some sparkly lights and he was gone. I’ve never seen the
like before, nor since, Miss. It was eerie – made all the hairs on my head stand on end.’

‘Who, Shedrick? Who did you see disappear and when?’

‘One of them assassins, Miss. I can’t say I’ve ever heard his name, but I saw him sneaking out from the camp of the Legions last week. All dressed in black, he was. Black cloak
and hood. Looked like death, he did. One of the Legion Commanders was killed that night. It doesn’t take deep thought to work out this man in black was the killer.’

‘So you saw him out near the military camp. Is that where he disappeared?’

‘No, Miss. He led me a merry path through the city first. We were almost to the inner city when it happened. I’m wondering now if he caught on to my following him. I was being extra
careful, ’cause you don’t want to upset a member of the Guild. I could have sworn he hadn’t seen me, but then, all of a sudden he paused at the entrance to an alleyway and looked
back. He was looking straight at where I was hiding when he just faded away. All that was left were a few sparkles in the air and then they were gone too. I swear, Miss. It’s Shand’s
own truth, it is.’

Femke looked hard at the man’s face. It was hard to pin him with her stare, as his eyes were almost constantly on the move. He was a weasel of a man: small, alert, and always quick to
stick his nose in where there was trouble. However, there was no hint of fabrication in his body language. He clearly believed what he was saying to be the truth. The question was, what did he
actually see? Had it been a clever illusion, something to disguise a hidden entrance? She needed to find out.

‘Thank you, Shedrick, you’ve been most helpful.’ She handed him several silver senna, which disappeared into a pocket at the speed of a striking snake. ‘You can have the
same again if you show me where the man disappeared,’ she added.

Shedrick paused for a moment and he scratched nervously behind one ear. ‘I don’t know, Miss. It could be dangerous.’

‘Would this help you decide then?’ Femke asked, her voice becoming silky soft as she produced a gold sen and rubbed it gently between her fingers. Shedrick licked his lips and
reached for the coin, but Femke was faster. ‘Not until you’ve shown me the place,’ she insisted, giving the coin a final waggle before putting it back in her pocket.

‘You play a dangerous game, Miss, but I’ll show you. Come with me. It’s dark out there, but it’s a bit early for cutthroats and thieves to be abroad yet. Let’s get
it over with before I change my mind.’

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

‘At last! I thought you’d never come. Welcome. Here – sit down. Have a drink. I have a lucrative proposition for you.’

‘They’re always the best kind, Lord Tremarle,’ Shalidar responded with a twisted smile. He strolled casually across to an armchair. Turning, sitting, and crossing his legs in
one fluid movement, the assassin leaned back, steepling his fingers in front of his chest as he regarded his host with an intense gaze.

It was easy to see Lord Tremarle was in a state of emotional turmoil. Anger and grief warred with the nervousness that was common in those who dealt with members of the Guild. Shalidar eyed the
thickset old Lord carefully, trying to discern if there were any specific knowledge behind Tremarle’s grief and anger. Did he know that his son’s killer was sitting across the room from
him? It was unlikely. Lord Tremarle could be a devious power monger, but when it came to family and friends, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

Tremarle handed Shalidar a generous glass of wine. The assassin took a tiny sip and nodded his thanks.

‘When I left the message requesting you to come, I did so with different intentions,’ the Lord began. ‘Lord Lacedian told me he had become the target of a member of your
profession. It appears his information was correct. Was the assassin responsible for my friend’s death a member of the Guild?’

‘No . . . and yes,’ Shalidar replied, taking another sip of wine. ‘The person who killed your friend was not a member of the Guild when he carried out the hit, but he has since
been inducted into membership. As we speak, he is settling into his new quarters. If you are looking for revenge on the killer of your friend, then I’m afraid I must leave now, for no matter
how much I might wish to help you, I cannot accept a contract on one of my fellow Guild members.’

‘No, it’s nothing like that,’ Tremarle said quickly. ‘I’m the last person to want to upset the Guild by proposing such a thing. However, I’d like to take out
a contract on the person who was ultimately responsible. I want you to kill the person who ordered Lacedian’s death, for I’m certain it’s the same person who was responsible for
the death of my son.’

Shalidar raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘This should be interesting,’ he thought. It was hard to imagine a connection between the two deaths, given his rather unique inside
knowledge.

‘Lacedian confided in me that he was certain he knew who had taken out the contract on his life,’ Tremarle continued, oblivious to Shalidar’s body language. ‘Some time
ago I heard the merest whisper of a rumour that you may have carried out a similar service in the past. It is not a rumour that ever spread far, for no one wanted to be heard repeating such a
thing. I’m aware of your creed, and that such a service is not normally for sale, but my fee for making this hit may make you feel it worth the risk.’

Lights began to flicker on in the assassin’s mind. Shalidar knew now what Tremarle wanted. He had killed the last Emperor for Vallaine. Somehow, Tremarle knew this. How, and who had told
him, was worrying, for Shalidar was in enough trouble with the Guildmaster as it was.

Lord Tremarle’s reasoning for taking out a contract on Surabar was flawed, though. He must have been badly misinformed to think this Emperor, of all people, would ever order an
assassination. His reasoning for Surabar being responsible for the death of Danar was also twisted. Shalidar had killed him to further Femke’s pain – how could that be Surabar’s
fault?

It was true that nothing would please Shalidar more than to be paid for killing the Emperor, unless maybe it were to be paid for killing the girl, Femke, but the Guildmaster was watching him. He
could not break the creed so spectacularly and expect to get away with it. Still, he thought, there was nothing lost by hearing Lord Tremarle out. He could always pass on information of the
Lord’s offered contract to the Guildmaster as a show of loyalty.

‘I’m not sure what rumour you have heard, Lord Tremarle, but I have been incorrectly attributed many kills over the years. I can only assume you are referring to the ultimate
Imperial target, which is, as you have correctly stated, out of bounds to Guild members. Let’s imagine for a moment, however, that such a target were fair game. What would this fee be, that
would be worth my facing not only the direct danger involved, but the wrath of my Guild into the bargain?’

Lord Tremarle met his eyes with an expression full of determined passion. ‘Everything I own,’ he replied.

Shalidar laughed aloud, quickly putting his glass of wine on the side table to avoid spilling it. ‘Everything, my Lord! How could you give me everything? Where would you live? What of your
wife?’

Lord Tremarle held his gaze firm and his expression remained deadly serious. ‘I will give my estate, my wealth, indeed my very name to the man who can achieve this thing,’ he
breathed. ‘I will legally adopt him as my son, such that upon my death he shall gain full inheritance of my House.’

Femke sighed and pushed the plate away. The food on it had barely been touched. Ordering it had been a mistake. Her stomach was twisted with worry for Reynik. Even the smell of
the steaming meat and potatoes repulsed her. It was too soon to give up on seeing him again. They had arranged a different rendezvous point and time for every day of the week. This was the third he
had missed, but she would continue to go to the pre-arranged meeting places until all hope had gone. How long would that be, she wondered? A week? A month? It did not bear thinking about.

The Legions were already beginning their first sweep through the city. They would enter every building in the city and tear it apart in their search for the Guild. It was unlikely they would
miss much. Wherever the headquarters was, it would have to be all but invisible to avoid discovery in the face of such a determined search, she thought grimly. Shand help Reynik if he was there
when the Legionnaires found the place.

Femke had searched the entire area around where her source, Shedrick, had claimed he had seen an assassin disappear. There was no indication of anything unusual there. Shedrick had always been a
reliable source in the past, but Femke had her suspicions that he might have been drinking on the night he claimed to have followed this ‘assassin’. Nothing about his information made
any real sense, but his tale did remind her of Reynik’s account of the silver wolf spider talisman disappearing after he removed it from an assassin’s body. One story of a magical
disappearance was unusual, but two such stories about assassins and their possessions indicated more than coincidence.

It was late – too late to expect an appearance from Reynik. Femke threw a few copper sennuts on the table as a tip for the serving girl. She rose and threaded her way through the tables
towards the door. There were still a few last contacts she could try. There was always a faint chance one of them might provide her with the lead she needed.

Femke was almost at the door when she noticed the man sitting at the corner table at the far side of the inn common room. Her heart skipped a beat. It was Reynik. He did not look up from the
plate of food he was eating, but she could tell he was aware of her presence. A single glance at him was all she needed to get the information she required. She waved her thanks to the landlord and
exited onto the street.

Reynik was using the code she had taught him. He had not contacted her because he was being followed. Instead, he had sat somewhere she was likely to see him and arranged the items on the table
to convey a message. His knife had been sideways above his plate with the sharpened blade away from his body, which meant ‘Do not approach’. He was eating with his right hand only. His
left was casually placed on the table next to his plate with his thumb tucked underneath his palm and the four fingers extended. Femke was to meet him at the rendezvous point arranged for the
fourth day.

A short while later Femke browsed a stall at one of the many open markets some distance from the inn. She saw Reynik coming this time, but again he did not approach. As he passed, Reynik
straightened his cloak. It was the signal ‘Check my tail’. Femke stayed at the stall and surreptitiously monitored the passers-by for any sign that someone might be following him. There
was none. He seemed to have shaken any watchers. Reynik circled the market, occasionally pausing to browse stalls. When he approached the second time, Femke gave him the ‘All clear’
signal and he casually wandered up to her.

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