Imperial Assassin (28 page)

Femke was not so certain. She followed the Emperor’s logic. His reasoning was sound and he clearly had a head for logistics, however, Femke was more of a lateral thinker. What if there was
no access big enough for a person to enter through? What if ventilation shafts circulated fresh air and the stores were supplied through a system that utilised more magic? Would the ventilation
shafts alone give enough of a clue as to where the caverns were located? It seemed unlikely.

‘So what do you suggest, your Majesty? Reynik has agreed to get me into the Guild headquarters using his icon. Is there anything in particular you would have me look for whilst I’m
there?’

‘Look for anything that might indicate how they are supplied, or who supplies them. Note the colour and texture of the rock. Get a small sample if you can. We might get lucky. There are
those in the city who claim to be experts in the identification of rock types. Maybe one of them will be able to tell us where to look for more rock of the same type. Also, try to find out whom it
is we’re up against. If you can discover the true identity of the Guildmaster, then we may be able to better anticipate him. Don’t do anything foolish, Femke. I’m sure I
don’t need to tell you to be careful. The danger is self-evident, but I don’t want you taking unnecessary risks. I need you alive.’

Femke nodded. ‘Of course, your Majesty. I’ll do my best.’

‘Just because Brother Wolf Spider spoke with an imperial spy does not make him a traitor. His conversation with Femke may have been totally innocent, or instigated by
her. You admit you did not see who approached whom, so how can you be sure he’s plotting treachery?’

Shalidar gritted his teeth as he fought the urge to shout. Why could the Guildmaster not see it? Normally he was so quick to stamp on any hint of traitorous activity. He took a deep breath and
spoke again with passion.

‘When I first saw Wolf Spider, I thought he looked familiar. He was in Thrandor recently –
with Femke.
The last time I saw him, he was dressed as a Legionnaire. Femke is a
known spy and she’s close to the Emperor. Wolf Spider
has
to be an infiltrator. He’s a spy like Femke. I’m sure of it.’

‘Brother Dragon, we are short of members. We’re also at a time of crisis. Brother Wolf Spider has proven himself to possess raw talent as an assassin. Let’s see if he’s
willing to employ his talents in support of the Guild before we judge him. I’ll set him a hit later. Follow him. Make sure that he carries out his duty to the Guild. If he doesn’t, then
you have my permission to kill him.’

‘The Guildmaster wishes to talk with you. Please attend him in the meeting chamber in one hour.’

‘Thank you,’ Reynik replied, nodding politely. ‘I’ll be sure to be there on time.’

The servant bowed deeply and backed out through the door, closing it behind him. Reynik looked back at the book he had been looking through. He shut it. It was no use. He could not concentrate
enough to read anyway.

His quarters gave him the creeps. Reynik did not have a great love of spiders, but just as Viper’s living rooms were full of images of snakes, so were his full of arachnids. The crests
above the doorways bore the wolf spider insignia. Ornaments, hangings, even book spines were cast, woven, printed, or otherwise adorned with images of his predator namesake. Was there something in
the magic of the icons that imbued the wearer with an obsession for the symbol he bore? If so, the silver pendant had not yet begun to work its wiles on Reynik.

The servants were another enigma of the Guild headquarters. He was at a loss as to how to address them. None of them would reveal their names; they simply ignored the question if asked. They
dressed in plain, brown robes, complete with deep hoods to keep their faces hidden. Reynik had distinguished defining characteristics for a handful of them, but he could not begin to guess how many
there were in total. At least seven or eight had attended him in his rooms at some point during the past few days.

Where did they live? If each of the assassins had separate quarters which were not accessible to one another except through the central meeting chamber, then did the servants’ quarters
form another spoke or two leading out from that central hub, or were they on a different level? Could it be that they lived above, or below, the level of the assassins? Reynik had seen no stairs,
but then he had not dared to venture far. Should he explore? Or should he leave the sneaking around to Femke?

Everything about his situation posed dilemmas. Even the simplest of tasks involved choices he did not want to make. Life in the Legion had been tough, but at least there he had understood the
challenges.

He got up and crossed the room to where an hourglass was standing on top of one of the three bookcases along the wall. He turned the glass on its central pivot until the legs of the ugly
spider-shaped top housing secured the sand-filled half of the glass in place. He watched for a moment as the sand began to trickle through. The hourglass would take half an hour to empty. If he
turned it again when about three quarters of the sand had passed through the venturi, then it would give him a good idea of when to leave for his meeting with the Guildmaster. He did not want to be
late.

The next three quarters of an hour passed slowly. When the last of the sand had finally trickled from the hourglass, Reynik was out through the door like a rat out of a trap.

No doubt the Guildmaster would want to know where he had been today, he thought nervously. There was no reason for him to lie. He would just omit the part about his meeting with Femke – or
gloss over it. Why should he not meet with spies? He had to get information from somewhere. Why not get it from the best sources? No, there would be no reason to lie.

Reynik reached his cubicle and sat down to wait. It had taken no more than half a minute for him to walk from his room to the cubicle, so he was more than a little early. The central chamber was
still and silent except for the occasional fluttering noise of a torch. Reynik leaned forward over the gate into the chamber. Was he alone? There was no way of telling. The other cubicles were all
shrouded in shadow. He could see the dragon symbol off to his right. It was very tempting to hop over the gate and take a closer look, but he thought better of it. Instead he settled back on his
bench and waited.

Sitting in the dark shadow within his cubicle proved extremely soporific. Before he realised he was in danger of dropping off to sleep, his chin impacted his chest as his head flopped forwards,
startling him awake. He was lucky. The Guildmaster was crossing the floor of the chamber towards him. Reynik did not think his nod would have been visible, as he was sitting in such deep
darkness.

When the Guildmaster spoke, his voice was as warm as it had been at their last meeting. Reynik braced himself for the questions, but they did not come.

‘I hope you have settled into your quarters and find them to your satisfaction, Brother Wolf Spider. Brother Cougar tells me you’ve adapted fully to the transfer system now, and that
you feel little discomfort when you use your icon. Is that true?’

‘Yes, Guildmaster. I would not say it’s a comfortable experience, but I can stand it without feeling any ill effects afterwards.’

‘Good. Very good. Tonight you will plan your first service for the Guild. As this contract was actively sought by the Guild, the fee is not great. Don’t worry. The nominal fee of ten
gold sen is a fraction of the price you can expect to receive for normal hits. The Guild will not expect you to do many such tasks without proper recompense.’

‘I understand, Guildmaster. I’ll do my best.’

‘Good, Brother Wolf Spider. I’m sure you will. This is your target. Good luck.’

The Guildmaster handed Reynik a slip of parchment, turned and walked across the chamber to another alcove where he began talking softly with someone else. Reynik squinted at the parchment, but
could not make out the writing in the dim light, so he got up and walked back out into the passageway that led to his quarters. There was a torch not far from the alcove door. Reynik stepped
forward and held out the slip of parchment again.

‘No!’ he breathed, a choking feeling of horror constricting his throat and squeezing his heart until he could feel it pounding with panic. ‘This can’t be
happening!’

He read the name over and over again, willing it to change. It did not. Written in clear letters across the sheet were the words ‘Lutalo, Commander of the First Legion’. With all the
recent assassinations of military Commanders there must have been a lot of postings. As far as Reynik knew there was only one Commander Lutalo. His first task for the Guild was to kill his own
father.

‘Oh, Shand! What do I do now?’

Reynik fought the urge to give in to panic. His instinct was to run, but he knew he could not do it. Where would he go? He was tied to the Guild for ever by the spider icon.

A sick feeling began in his stomach and spread throughout his body. It was like a droplet of dye falling into a glass of water, permeating through the liquid until the entire volume had changed
colour. His mind raced. How could he have considered carrying out a hit for the Guild in order to maintain his cover? If a twist of fate was ever destined to bring someone to his senses, this must
be it.

He knew he must warn his father. The question was – how? He could hardly walk into the middle of the Legion campsite and say ‘Hi, Pa. Thought I should let you know I’ve sold my
soul to the Guild of Assassins. Oh, and by the way, they’ve now commissioned me to kill you.’ Or could he?

He looked again at the sheet of parchment. The First Legion – he still technically belonged to the First Legion. After nearly a month of training to be an assassin, it was difficult to
imagine going back to his old unit again. Despite his derision of that first thought, the idea of just walking in was actually not a bad one. If he were to be successful, however, he must first
make sure that he threw off any followers that the Guildmaster might send after him. The best way to do this would be to take them by surprise.

The constriction in his chest receded as the sense of panic ebbed away. He had a plan. With a plan, life was suddenly less complicated again. Striding along the corridor to his quarters, he did
not pause, but went straight to the transfer stone. The right hand side would take him closer to where the Legion were camped, but the left would take him closer to where he had his uniform stored.
Being in uniform would make getting into the campsite easy.

He touched the spider talisman to the stone. The now familiar tingling sensation as the transfer began, followed by the unnerving sense of exploding and coalescing, was almost welcome. The
uncomfortable wrench, followed by his emergence in the back alley, left him feeling cleansed of the taint of his quarters. He was out of the confines of the Guild complex, and engaged in an act to
save, rather than to kill. It felt good.

Evening was already giving way to night. The shadows were deep, and the stiff breeze blowing through the alley could take the blame for any small noises he made. Flitting through the alleyway to
the far end, he removed his cloak. With a series of quick, precise folds, Reynik transformed it into a neat bundle, and stuffed it behind an old broken window shutter. He ran his fingers through
his hair several times to get rid of the residual feeling of the hood, then stepped out of the alley and onto the back street.

Reynik was determined not to stay still. By moving swiftly, he would make it difficult for the Guild’s watchers to follow him undetected. Without his cloak, the breeze sliced through his
clothing, but if all went well, he would not be in the open for long. He set off along the street, striding briskly across to the far side and around a corner to the left. Two hundred paces down
this street on the left hand side there was a tavern.

It was too early for any except the hardened drinkers to be in the bar, but Reynik had no intention of staying. The warmth of the log fire was inviting, but he did not pause. He nodded to the
innkeeper as he made a beeline for the back door. The innkeeper nodded back, clearly disappointed that Reynik was not going to stop to spend his coin at the bar.

‘Later,’ Reynik mouthed.

One of the lessons Femke had taught him was how to throw off pursuit by unwanted watchers. During his period of acclimatising to the transfer experience, Reynik had utilised some of his break
time between transfers to explore the area around his two emergence sites and set up specific routes away from the area. These routes built in traps and changes of appearance designed to throw off
shadows. Unknown to Cougar, he had not been going into the local inns and shops out of curiosity, but to make arrangements with the proprietors. One such arrangement he had established was with the
innkeeper here.

As promised, on the cloak stand adjacent to the back door of the inn, there was a blue cloak on the back peg. Reynik took it, threw it around his shoulders, pulled the hood over his head and
stepped out through the back door into another street. He continued to move at pace – not running, but walking at speed, weaving through alleys and back streets with a confidence in his step
that gave fair warning he was no easy prey for thieves or cutthroats.