Imperial Assassin

by Mark Robson

  For Timothy—

  may your life be rich and

  full of good times.

  SIMON AND SCHUSTER

  First published in Great Britain in 2006 by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

  A CBS COMPANY

  Text copyright © Mark Robson 2006

  Cover illustration by Geoff Taylor © Simon & Schuster 2006

  Cover title design by www.blacksheep-uk.com

  This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

  No reproduction without permission.

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Mark Robson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

  Africa House

  64–78 Kingsway

  London WC2B 6AH

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4169-0186-0

  ISBN-10: 1-416-90186-8

  eBook: 978-1-4711-1655-1

  www.markrobsonauthor.com

  www.simonsays.co.uk

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Typeset by Rowland Phototypesetting Ltd,

  Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk

  Printed and bound in Great Britain by Cox & Wyman Ltd, Reading Berks

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  In Shandrim, Capital City of Shandar

  REYNIK – Legionnaire of the General’s Elite Legion. One of only two such elite Legionnaires yet to reach their eighteenth birthdays.

  TRENNON – Legionnaire of the elite First Legion.

  SIDIS – File Leader of the elite First Legion. Companion to Femke during her journey to Thrandor.

  FEMKE – Talented young spy for the Emperor of Shandar. Mistress of disguise.

  TYMM – Legionnaire of the elite First Legion. Friend of Reynik

  NELEK – Veteran Legionnaire of the General’s Elite Legion.

  LORD TREMARLE – Powerful ‘old school’ Lord of Shandar. Father of Lord Danar.

  LORD LACEDIAN – ‘Old school’ Lord of Shandar. Best friend of Lord Tremarle.

  LORD DANAR – A handsome young playboy of the Imperial Court. Only son of Lord Tremarle, a powerful ‘old school’ Lord. Killed by Shalidar during Femke’s mission in Mantor.

  LORD FERDAND – Master Spy. Mentor of Femke. Missing, presumed dead for two years. Now the Guildmaster of the Guild of Assassins.

  OTHER ASSASSINS – Brothers: Scorpion, Firedrake, Falcon (deceased), Viper, Cougar, Fox Bear, Dragon, Wolf Spider.

  SURABAR – Ex-military General of the Shandese Legions, now Emperor of Shandar.

  SHALIDAR – Member of the Guild of Assassins (Brother Dragon) and long-time adversary of Femke.

  LADY ALYSSA – A phantom. That is, an alias of Femke. A spoilt young woman known to be the daughter of a rich merchant Lord from a coastal city.

  VERSANDE MATTHIASON – Proprietor of The Silver Chalice, a high class inn located in the centre of Shandrim.

  RIKALA – Dressmaker and friend of Versande Matthiason.

  LORD KEMPTEN – ‘Old school’ Lord of Shandar. Regent of the Shandese Empire in Emperor Surabar’s absence.

  LADY KEMPTEN – Gracious lady wife of Lord Kempten. Known affectionately as Izzie by her husband.

  COMMANDER SATERIS – Commander of the Shandese First Legion.

  COMMANDER VASCILLY – Legion Commander who gives daily reports to the Emperor.

  ANEKI – A servant to Serrius, retired gladiator of Shandrim.

  SERRIUS – A deadly gladiator. Reputed to be the best swordsman ever to fight in the Shandese arena. Retired. Tutor to Reynik.

  DERRYN – An ageing street entertainer and expert knife thrower. Tutor to Reynik.

  DEVARUSSO – The debonair leader of Shandrim’s foremost band of actors. Tutor to Reynik.

  DIKARIS – File Second to Sidis in the elite First Legion. Stickler for discipline and personal hygiene.

  TOOMAS – An unscrupulous tattle tout.

  SHANTELLA – True name of Brother Fox – the only female member of the Guild of Assassins.

  JARRON – A guard at the house of Lord Lacedian.

  DAKREAS – A guard at the house of Lord Lacedian.

  SASSO – A servant of Lord Tremarle.

  MERRIK – A lord of Shandar.

  SHEDRICK – An informant – agent of Femke.

  LUTALO – Legion Commander. Assigned to the elite First Legion after the assassination of Commander Sateris. Father of Reynik.

  TAM – A legionnaire.

  JURRE – A servant in the Guild complex.

  GAETAN – A wagoneer.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘Well, lads! What do we have here? If it isn’t the Emperor’s golden boy returned from his holidays. Did you have a nice time in Thrandor, Reynik? Did you bring us all presents?’

  All eyes in the barrack tent turned to focus on the young man in the doorway. He met their combined gaze with a confidence at odds with his years. Reynik had yet to celebrate his eighteenth birthday, but already he was no stranger to military action. During his first ceremonial guard duty there had been a skirmish with traitorous rebels. Reynik’s skill at arms during the fighting had brought him to the attention of the Emperor, who had then chosen him for a special escort mission. The acid welcome at Reynik’s return was no more than he had expected.

  ‘Thrandor was hell! Fine wines, beautiful girls and a luxurious room with my own bathtub – a complete nightmare. You’d have hated it, boys,’ he responded, his grin making him look more a boy than a man. ‘I spent all my money on memories, so you’ll just have to make do with my stories as gifts.’

  ‘Bah, you wouldn’t know what to do with a beautiful girl if she came with written instructions!’ one of the older men spat.

  ‘At least they didn’t worry about over-exciting me for fear of my heart packing up, Trennon,’ Reynik retorted swiftly.

  There was a round of general laughter at that. Reynik was relieved. Outwardly he strove to give the impression of confidence. Inside, he trembled. He knew from his recent training that anything perceived by the group as special treatment made for bad feeling. His father had taught him group dynamics well. He knew that brazening it out was the best way to tackle the situation.

  If he could tell them the real story of what had happened in Thrandor, then his re-acceptance by his fellow soldiers might be easier to achieve. Sadly he was sworn to secrecy. The Emperor had made it clear to both himself and Sidis that they were not to discuss the events of their trip with anyone. Sidis had been a miserable companion for the entire duration. Given that he was a File Leader and Reynik was a junior Legionnaire, Reynik had hoped that Sidis would take time to teach him something new of soldiering during their journey. He had not. He had been sullen and unfriendly throughout. After he witnessed Reynik tackle an assassin in front of the entire Thrandorian Royal Court, the File Leader’s disinterest in progressing Reynik’s soldiering skills turned to active obstruction. During the return journey Sidis had
been all but unbearable.

  ‘If only Sidis was more friendly,’ he thought. Having someone, anyone who he could talk to about the time in Thrandor would have helped. The only person with whom he could talk about the trip was Femke, the Imperial Spy who had posed as the Shandese Ambassador, and that was awkward on several levels. Thoughts of Femke were not helpful. They were distracting and he knew he had to keep his focus. He had to show his fellow soldiers that he had not lost his identity as a member of the group.

  Reynik heaved his heavy pack in through the opening of the tent and put it in the nearest corner, to the left of the entrance flaps. The spot closest to the door flap was the worst in the tent. It was the draughtiest, the most difficult to keep clean, and the place liable for the most disturbances during the sleeping hours.

  ‘So, what’s Thrandor really like, Reynik?’ asked one of the other more junior soldiers.

  ‘Much like Shandar, Tymm,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘The trip was pretty boring for the most part. File Leader Sidis and I got to play nursemaid for an Ambassador during the journey. When we got there, we were largely left to our own devices until it was time to come home again. I got to see a fair bit of Mantor, which was good fun. The Royal Guards in the Thrandorian Palace were up for a bit of weapon play, so I learned one or two new tricks. Aside from that, it was as dull as a duty watch in the early hours.’

  ‘In other words, a holiday then,’ grunted Nelek from the back of the tent. ‘You’d better not have gained any bad habits or sloppy ways, youngster. If the File Leader picks us up for anything on your account, there’ll be hell to pay.’

  ‘Welcome back, Reynik,’ Tymm muttered quietly with raised eyebrows, making sure that the comment was quiet enough for Nelek not to catch it. The rest remained silent and appeared to lose interest in his return.

  ‘I’ll do my best not to let anyone down,’ Reynik said, emptying his travel pack and constructing his narrow canvas bed. It would take some time to be fully accepted again. In the meantime, he knew he had to concentrate on the basics of soldiering and blend back into the background.

  All Legionnaires were trained to look after themselves in every sphere of life. There were standard ways of making up a bed, of storing one’s clothes, of cutting one’s hair and of cleaning one’s personal kit. There was even a ‘Legion Standard’ way of making one’s cup of klah in the morning. To become a Legionnaire was to become more than just a soldier; it involved taking on a whole way of life. For Reynik, the Legion standards were something he felt born to. He had learned many of them at his father’s knee since he had first begun to walk and talk.

  Reynik’s was a distinguished military family that boasted generations of fine soldiers. Most recently, both his father and uncle had been Legion Commanders, the highest military rank barring General that a soldier could aspire to. His father was still a serving Commander, but an assassin had killed his uncle some years ago.

  Reynik had witnessed his uncle’s murder and had seen the man who killed him. He had never expected to see the killer again, but recent events had caused their paths to cross. He now knew the man’s name was Shalidar. Having recognised the assassin, he had hoped to avenge his uncle, but the chance had not materialised. His consolation was that he and Ambassador Femke had foiled Shalidar’s attempt to dissolve the peace talks.

  The assassin was still on the run. No one was sure how, but he had eluded all pursuit and escaped the Royal Palace in Mantor. Reynik was quietly pleased at this, for whilst foiling Shalidar’s plans had held a certain satisfaction, it had not sated Reynik’s desire for revenge. He wanted to face the assassin blade to blade. He wanted Shalidar to understand why his hatred for the man burned so deep. Then, and only then, he would kill him – if he could.

  It was unlikely that Shalidar would be foolish enough to return to the Shandese capital. The Emperor had put a bounty on the assassin’s head large enough to keep any sane man away. Shalidar was not mad. On the contrary, he was one of the most calculating men that Reynik had ever met. As Reynik was not at liberty to pursue him, thoughts of vengeance appeared futile.

  ‘Atten . . . shun!’

  The File Leader’s voice boomed into the tent, causing an instant response. Everyone sprang to attention at the end of his bed space, upright and taut.

  ‘Form up outside. One minute. Move! Move!’

  The men spun again and began gathering relevant kit. Fortunately for Reynik, he was already dressed in all his gear. All he needed to do was to strap on his sword and he was ready. He used the few extra spare seconds to re-secure the straps on his pack. Then he stowed it neatly next to his bed space.

  Once outside, the Legionnaires formed three ranks swiftly and silently. The File Seconds checked the spacing before taking up position ready for the File Leader’s briefing. Reynik assumed his old position in the back rank, and the others rearranged themselves accordingly.

  Tent city for the Legions was located outside the South West Quarter of Shandrim. It was beginning to feel like a permanent extension of the city. Rows upon rows of canvas constructs were set out with exacting precision. The plan had been to camp briefly, draft in conscripts and then to mount an invasion of Thrandor. Instead, the men were being used to supplement the city militia and maintain public order in the aftermath of a dramatic change of Emperor. The capital was still reeling from the strange sequence of events that had led to a General taking the Imperial Mantle.

  The new Emperor was General Surabar, founder of the elite Legion to which Reynik belonged. The soldiers revered him as a leader, so they had good reason to aid him in securing his rule. There had been no coup. However, now that a distinguished soldier with a reputation for being honourable and fair had taken over leadership of the Empire, they were keen to see him keep it.

  Those members of the Legion participating in today’s exercise marched out in ten groups of sixty to the huge training grounds at the edge of the tented area. The rest of the men were all on duty around the city. A File Leader led each group of sixty, and there was a drummer at the front of every second group beating out the cadence of the marching pace.

  It felt strange for Reynik to be marching to the training grounds again. After the extended period away from the Legion it felt good to be back. When they reached the training grounds, the File Leaders each briefed their group on the schedule of training for the morning. Reynik’s group was ordered to start with individual weapons practice, then move to the drill area for manoeuvre training.

  Reynik gritted his teeth when he was paired with Nelek. The veteran was an excellent swordsman, but he had never been friendly towards Reynik. The man appeared to enjoy inflicting pain on the younger members of the Legion.

  Reynik knew the next half hour would be hard work. He was under no illusions as to who was the superior swordsman. Nelek moved with incredible speed and grace. He also had the instincts of a killer. The veteran had survived several battles during his career, despite having been in the thick of the fighting for hours. When Reynik had first joined the Legion, one of the more friendly veterans had recounted a tale of Nelek in the grip of battle fury. The man had claimed to have witnessed Nelek carve his way through a mass of fighters as if they were so many dead trees to be chopped down. Whether the story was true, or exaggerated, made little difference. The fact remained that he was a truly talented fighter. What Reynik needed to know right now was his weaknesses, not his strengths.

  ‘You and me then, Nelek,’ Reynik said brightly, hoping to spark some sort of response.

  Nelek grunted, grabbing two training swords from the pile and tossing one to Reynik. They moved into a suitable space and faced one another.

  ‘How would you like to warm up?’ Reynik asked, rolling his shoulders to limber them in preparation for the punishment he anticipated ahead.

  Nelek gave no answer. Instead he attacked. He gave no warning. He just launched straight into a barrage of hard, fast strikes with his wooden blade. Instinct and lightning fast reactions were all that saved R
eynik from a mass of bruises in the first few seconds. The veteran was hitting with full force.

  Leaping away from Nelek in an effort to regain some poise and balance, Reynik found he was instantly pursued. Nelek was not giving him space to think. The barrage of strokes continued and started to get past Reynik’s guard. He took a sharp rap to the ribs and a second on the arm, but there was no let up. Nelek showed no external signs of spite or anger. If he had, then Reynik would have yelled the yield call that would have forced the man to stop his attack. But Reynik was not ready to yield.

  It occurred to Reynik that Nelek was trying to prove something. But what? It did not matter. If this had been a real fight with proper blades, Reynik would already have been severely wounded, perhaps mortally. But it was a training bout. There were rules. Nelek had already broken one by neglecting to salute. Would he break more? Reynik decided to find out.

  Leaping backwards again in apparent retreat, Reynik anticipated that Nelek would continue his relentless pursuit. This time, though, rather than looking for breathing space, Reynik used the momentary disengagement to change his stance and deliberately leave his head vulnerable to attack. Nelek took the bait and swung at the side of Reynik’s head. Reynik blocked the stroke and then executed his premeditated plan. He had deliberately landed such that his weight was forward. As the wooden swords met, he spun under and inside Nelek’s guard to drive the elbow of his left arm up into the man’s solar plexus.

  It was a trick that one of the Thrandorian Guards had played on him during a practice bout at the Royal Palace in Mantor. It proved as successful for Reynik as it had for the Thrandorian. Nelek doubled over, only to have his face meet the back of Reynik’s fist, which rapped the bridge of his nose firmly enough to bring more pain. Nelek staggered back. Before he had a chance to recover, Reynik had disarmed him and placed his practice blade against the veteran’s throat.

  ‘That’s quite enough of that,’ a stern voice interjected.

  Reynik backed away from Nelek and saluted before turning to face the File Leader. Sidis was looking on with a face like thunder. ‘Nothing new there,’ Reynik thought grimly.