Imperial Assassin

by Mark Robson

  ‘You don’t know that for certain,’ Femke said, her voice sounding more lucid. ‘Any one of a hundred things might have happened. He was not a young man.’

  ‘He was strong as a horse, Femke, and you know it. I’d lay my last copper sennut on Shalidar having killed him, but why? Why now? If he wanted to kill Surabar, I’m sure he could have engineered the Emperor’s death before now.’

  ‘Shalidar has always had his own agenda, Reynik. Surely you’ve noticed that about him. He’s a maverick. What amazes me is that the Guildmaster has let him live this long. The two of them have always disliked one another.’

  ‘And just how did you figure that out?’ Reynik asked, his tone sceptical. ‘Did you drop in on the Guildmaster and ask him?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking – yes. I know the Guildmaster all too well, Reynik, or at least I thought I did. He’s my old master, Lord Ferdand.’

  Reynik’s jaw dropped. ‘Really? I’ve heard about him. My father said he was a most interesting character: very intelligent, loyal to the Empire and particularly to the Emperor. He was quite outspoken on some issues, I believe.’

  ‘Loyal! I’ll give him his due, he convinced me and I’m not deceived easily. Damn him! He had me hanging on his every word. It’s hard to admit, but he was a traitor all along: a traitor to the Empire, a traitor to his high-falutin ideals and a traitor to me. I’ll never forgive him for this. When I think of all his lessons on ethics . . . and all along he was killing for money. Shand, but I’d like to know what made him do it! Why would he compromise his position in such a way? I can’t believe it was for money; he had wealth of his own. What would make him join the Guild?’

  ‘Um, Femke, I don’t mean to sound rude, but do you think these questions could wait until we’ve reached some sort of safety? We’re out in the dark here, and I’m not talking about this street. Without Surabar we have nowhere to go.’

  ‘Don’t be foolish, Reynik. You know that isn’t true. We still have our fallback plan.’

  ‘No, Femke. We’ve lost control. I’m beginning to think that we should just go and find the deepest hole, or the darkest cellar we can, and hide in it for the next five years!’

  Femke froze. All her muscles tensed.

  ‘Say that again,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Say what again?’

  ‘The part about the hole and the cellar.’

  ‘I said we should go and find the deepest hole, or the darkest cellar we can, and hide in it,’ he repeated uncertainly. ‘What is it, Femke? What’s the matter?’

  ‘That’s it!’ she said excitedly. ‘Reynik you’re a genius!’

  Femke threw her other arm around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. If he had been surprised before, then he was astonished now. Femke laughed at the lost expression on his face.

  ‘Well, I’d like to say “Of course!” and bask in the glory, but as I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about, I’ll settle for an explanation.’

  ‘Very well, but not here. You were right. We must keep moving. We would be a lot less obvious if we went with the flow. But Ferdand would expect me to try to disappear by melting into the crowd. It was he who taught me how. Therefore, we shall do the opposite. Come on. Let’s get as far away from this place and the Palace as we possibly can. A large crowd is normally a good place to hide, but not today. Ferdand will have all his people sweeping the crowd in front of the Imperial Palace looking for us.’

  They started moving again. Femke had regained her focus. He was impressed. It had taken him much longer to recover from his second transfer using the spider icon. He could see she was hurting from the discovery of Ferdand’s treachery, but she was not letting it dominate her. He could not think of anyone else who had the ability to hold such a strong sense of purpose under such trying circumstances.

  What he could not see was that Femke was hurting on many levels. A flood of questions was assailing her mind. Why had Ferdand joined the Guild? Why had he trained her to be a spy for the Emperor if he was working for the Guild the entire time? How had he concealed his hypocrisy from her for so long? She had thought she had known him well, but she was just beginning to realise that she had never known him at all.

  Aside from the treachery of Ferdand, every toll of the bell sent a wave of guilt ringing through her. It was she who had convinced the General to take the Mantle. Now he was dead. As a spy, Femke was not unused to losing people to death, but this was different.

  She had felt a particular sense of responsibility for Emperor Surabar. She was sworn to his service: to protect and obey. It was an oath she took very seriously. His death filled her with both a sense of great loss, and a sense of failure. He had been a good man: true to his purpose, generous of himself and filled with an uncommon sense of justice. Thinking of his qualities made her all the more angry at the betrayal of Ferdand.

  Reynik too, mourned the death of the Emperor, but for very different reasons. He did not know Surabar well. To him, the Emperor had been like any other senior officer – someone to be obeyed without question. The respect with which he was held by the Legions meant more than his personal feelings for the man. Reynik’s real sense of loss was a selfish one. He had lost his top cover. Without the Emperor, he only had Femke to vilify him in the event he was ever questioned over the death of Lord Lacedian. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, he was a murderer. With Surabar wearing the Mantle, he had felt secure in his mission, but questioned how much weight Femke’s word would have if it came down to a trial.

  Femke led the way, keeping always to the back streets. This avoided the need to battle against the larger flows of people going into the city centre along the major roads. Reynik felt a little disappointed that she no longer needed his support. She had kissed him twice tonight. He smiled at the thought. Once was an occasion, but twice was almost a habit. He hoped it would become a habit that would grow.

  A quarter of an hour later she led him into another alley and they sat down on a stone step to rest.

  ‘I would judge we’re clear of imminent danger,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘You wanted an explanation. I have one. Did you notice the stonework around the doorways in the Guild complex?’

  Reynik thought for a moment and then shook his head. ‘I can’t say that I did. There was nothing strange about it that I can remember.’

  ‘You’re right. There was nothing strange, but there was something distinctive. The stonework was of a very high quality, and the door archways were made in a style I’ve only seen once before. I was combing my memories for where I had seen such masonry work, but it eluded me . . . until you spoke of a deep cellar. Your words sent my mind back to the deepest cellar I’ve known. Would it surprise you to know that the stonework in that cellar is an exact duplicate of the stonework in the Guild complex?’

  ‘Really? You’re sure? Where is this cellar?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure. What’s more, having realised that the same stonemason did the work in both cases answered the most puzzling mystery of all for me. I did not wonder so much how the Guild headquarters was cut from the rock. Such things have been possible for many centuries. The question that troubled me was how those who did the work concealed such an undertaking. After all, the people who mined out those chambers would have needed to dispose of thousands of wagonloads of rock. It would have taken many workers years to complete. The scale of such a project would be huge.’

  ‘Yes, but surely if the site were remote enough, then this would not pose too many problems.’

  ‘If it were, then yes, I would agree with you, Reynik. But this site was not remote. It had to be close to the centre of Shandrim because of the limitations on the magical power provided by the icons and the stones. If I told you that the place I’d seen stonework like that in the Guild was in the lower cellars of the Imperial Palace, would you see my thoughts?’

  Reynik’s eyes widened with wonder as he absorbed her words.

  ‘The Guild complex is under the Palace?’
/>
  ‘That’s what I believe. Yes.’

  ‘Could you prove it?’

  ‘I believe so. I suspect that the ventilation system of the Guild complex opens alongside that of the cellars in the Palace. My bet would be that if you were to count the ventilation shafts leading out of the cellars and then count the grated openings around the Palace grounds, you would find a considerable discrepancy.’

  ‘But why has no one noticed this before? Surely someone must know,’ Reynik protested.

  ‘Why? Who would think to check such a thing? I suspect there have been few members of the Guild of Assassins wandering through the deepest levels of the Palace cellars. You would not find many prominent targets down there. I only went there because I posed as a Palace servant for several months as part of a training project set by . . . my tutor. You saw nothing unusual in the masonry. Why should a trained assassin be any different? I noticed because I was taught to notice details everywhere I went. It was drilled into me.’

  ‘Fine! We know the location of the Guild headquarters. We also know the man behind the organisation. But what use is the knowledge? If Surabar’s dead, then we’ve lost. I refer you back to my earlier comment. We might as well go hide in a hole. I can’t go back to the Legion – the Guild knows about my history now. They’d find me in no time. You can’t go back to the Palace. So what do you plan to do?’

  Femke sighed. ‘You’re being very negative, Reynik. I agree, the situation is not ideal, but Surabar did prepare for this eventuality. He always knew there was a possibility that the Guild of Assassins would finally get annoyed enough to ignore the creed and dispose of him. I, for one, am not willing to give up on his goal. Now that I know Ferdand’s behind the Guild, I want to see them destroyed more than ever. Surabar was right. There is no place in our society for a Guild of killers, no matter how they dress up their morals with their blasted creed.’

  ‘I’m not going to argue with your intentions, but how in Shand’s name do you think you’re going to succeed without the Emperor to back you up?’

  ‘I may not have Surabar, but I’m not totally without resources. There is also Lord Kempten. We mustn’t forget him. He believed in what Surabar was doing. The Emperor put him out of harm’s way for good reason. You’ve realised you have nowhere to go. Will you help me finish what we started?’

  Reynik looked into Femke’s grey-blue eyes. They sparked with determination and purpose. ‘Of course I’ll help,’ he replied, his voice calm and steady. ‘Shalidar has taken my uncle and my father from me,’ he added silently. ‘I’ll be damned if I’ll let him take you as well.’

  If you enjoyed Imperial Assassin, look out for the third book in the sequence, Imperial Traitor, coming soon! Here’s a taster of what’s in store . . .

  Shalidar drew a deep breath and held it for a moment before slowly releasing it. He drew another. His turbulent thoughts began to calm and his dark eyes glittered with cold, calculating malice. He had come this far, he did not have to make the decision tonight. It would not hurt to scout the security surrounding the Emperor. Knowledge of how seriously Surabar was taking his personal protection now would be useful.

  He slid out from the doorway and moved noiselessly forwards into the depths of the Palace. It was late. The passageways were quiet. Getting close to the Emperor’s study without being seen would not be difficult.

  He had come to the palace to look for Wolf Spider. His reason for being here was legitimate. The Guildmaster had tasked him with killing the young man who had infiltrated the Guild, and Wolf Spider’s links to the Emperor were beyond doubt. His commission gave Shalidar further reason to consider making a hit on the Emperor tonight. But how could he make it look accidental? If his target had been anyone other than Surabar, he would not have hesitated to use Wolf Spider as a smokescreen. But the Guildmaster was no fool. It would not take him long to work out what Shalidar was about.

  The assassin moved like a phantom through the Palace, gliding smoothly from one dark recess to the next. There were some sounds of movement from rooms on either side of the passages, but no one disturbed him as he threaded his way into the heart of the Emperor’s domain.

  The smell of cleaning wax hung heavy in the air, as it always did in the palace passageways. Despite the high ceilings and the inevitable smoking odour from the burning torches that lit the inner walkways, every door, every wooden panel, every surface was scented with polish and gleamed with the effort of generations of Palace staff.

  As he expected, two guards held post outside the Emperor’s study. They were dressed in full ceremonial armour for their vigil and were armed with swords, knives, and what looked like miniature crossbows. Crossbows! That was a development he had not considered. It was most unusual to arm indoor guards with mid-range weapons.

  Shalidar held his position. He was hidden in the deep shadow some distance along the corridor from where the two men were standing silent and alert. Torches were lit in the Emperor’s study. He could see the light shining through the narrow windows that opened high up in the wall of the corridor. Surabar was there, but the assassin had no way of getting any closer to the Emperor’s study without revealing himself to the guards. The passwords for the outer Palace gates were easily obtainable from his many sources, but the more secret inner passwords he knew were long out of date. It was unlikely he could bluff his way any further. He needed a diversion: something to draw the guards away from the door, or distract their attention sufficiently for him to approach without being noticed.

  Fire was always a good diversion, but if he were to kill the Emperor, it was unlikely to help his cause with the Guildmaster if he burnt down the Imperial Palace in the process. No. He needed something spectacular, but not life threatening – an occurrence that would catch everyone’s attention. If it drew the Emperor from his study too, then all the better. Once Surabar was out of his lair, he would be far more vulnerable to attack. The gold plating on the pommel would be if Wolf Spider were drawn into the open at the same time.

  ‘Ah, now that would be neat!’ Shalidar breathed as the thought crossed his mind. ‘Or Femke – I’d be more than happy to settle my score with the Emperor’s pet spy!’

  The question remained. How? The longer he lingered, the more determinedly blank Shalidar’s mind became. Nothing. He could think of nothing that would have the effect he desired. It was no good. He would have to go away and think on it. Improvising a hit was one thing, but to do so under these conditions would serve little purpose, other than to end his career in a hurry. Frustrated, but resigned, he turned and slipped silently away from the vicinity of the guarded study. There would be another time, he vowed silently. He would return with a viable plan. The Emperor would not live long.

  It was as he reached the ground floor that the seed of an idea germinated within his mind. To his surprise it flourished and grew into a fully-fledged plan within seconds. It was genius, he decided. Everything he needed was here in the Palace.

  IMPERIAL SPY BY MARK ROBSON

  In a world of magic and murder, Femke is entrusted with a vital foreign mission by the Emperor. The task appears straightforward, but the young spy quickly finds herself ensnared in an elaborate trap.

  Isolated in a hostile country, hunted by the authorities and with her arch-enemy closing in for his revenge, Femke needs all her wit and skills to survive. Only Reynik, a soldier barely out of training, appears willing to help. But with no knowledge of her true mission, Reynik soon discovers loyalty is a dangerous business.

  ISBN: 1-416-90185-X

 

 

 
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