*
“You haven’t got your graduation set yet, have you?” Eleanor asked as she started to strap her own knives into place.
“No.”
“Do you think your practice kit’s good enough, or is there anything you want to borrow?”
From the sheathes at his belt Raf pulled a short curved dagger and a long stiletto. “Harold doesn’t make bad knives.”
“You’re all set, then?”
“I’m only your second. How hard can it be?”
She pulled her hair into a tight bun at the back of her head, and tucked it out of sight beneath a dark cap. “Okay, let’s go.”
They took their usual route into the city, but instead of walking to a tavern this time they scrambled up a wall at the edge of the Marble Quarter and crept across the rooftops above the gleaming white colonnades.
The palace itself stood apart from its neighbouring buildings, facing proudly over the statues and fountain of the Grand Square. Blue-uniformed guards patrolled the perimeter. The palace guards weren’t the Empire’s most highly regarded military unit – they had few real threats to defend against – but they’d still be a thorn in Eleanor’s side tonight.
“Ready?” she asked. Raf nodded, and they slid down into the street together.
With light cloaks covering their work clothes, and walking with exaggerated instability, they could have passed for any inebriated couple taking a late-night stroll through the quiet streets. Eleanor put her arm through Raf’s and leaned close towards him, pretending to whisper into his ear as they came closer to the guard-post near the gate. As the guard stepped out of his office to wave them on their way, she pulled a blowpipe from behind her ear and fired a soporific dart straight at his face.
She and Raf lifted him by one shoulder each, and draped him back into his chair.
“Tut tut, sleeping on duty,” Eleanor said as she plucked the dart from his cheek and tucked it safely inside her pocket. “I hope you wake up before the boss finds you.”
“They wouldn’t get away with such lax security if I was in charge,” Raf said as they let themselves in through the service entrance.
“Would you really want to be in charge of the palace guard?”
“Never. Dullest job in the Empire – but after tonight it’s going to look a bit more interesting.”
Eleanor shook her head. “One of the maids is going to come forwards and confess to an inside job,” she said. “It won’t trouble the guards.”
They had directions to the suite of rooms where Sofia lived with her husband, and they crept along deserted corridors until they reached the right door. They oiled the latch and hinges, then Raf flattened his back to the wall to keep watch while Eleanor went in.
There were two more doors to oil and open before she found the bedroom where the couple slept together. She pulled a bottle of soporific vapours from her belt, opened it, and poured a measure of the volatile liquid onto the pillow by the nose of Sofia’s husband. Before Eleanor could even count to five his snores gave way to silent, drug-induced sleep of a deeper kind.
She moved around the bed to Sofia’s side and poured another dose of the vapours, before twisting the cork back into the neck of the bottle. As she waited for the vapours to take their effect, she pulled a stiletto from her boot-sheath. She hesitated for only a moment, pondering why this woman and the child she was carrying were such a threat to the Empress... but the Association was being paid to do the job, not to think about it. She drew the knife across the princess’s artery and left her bleeding into the pillow.
As she closed the door behind her, she wondered if it had really been a kindness to the husband to leave him with his life. He was certainly going to wake in an unhappier world.
“Done?” Raf asked as she emerged.
She nodded. “Let’s go. And we’ll take in a tavern or two on the way home – I need a drink.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t know, everything seems a bit pointless. Trying to annex the drylands and killing some woman because she’s pregnant.” Eleanor sighed. “I think I’m just tired. Come on, let’s get drunk.”
Revolution (Chronicles of Charanthe #2) Page 18