4 City of Strife by William King

when he finds a new one. I am sure your friend Balthazar resents you for that.”
    “You don’t have a very high regard for Karsten, do you?”
    “Quite the contrary, he is clever, ruthless, spoiled and very dangerous. He wants his own way and he wants it now and he will use his money and power to roll over anything that gets in his way. He is an amusing opponent.”
    “This is a game to you.”
    “No but I take my entertainment where I can find it.” He paused for a moment, glanced sidelong at Kormak, perhaps realising he had been too flippant. The Guardian saw something at once shifty, fearful and vulnerable in his eyes. “Do not ever doubt that this is war unto the death, Sir Kormak. I am fighting for my life here and for my children’s. I did not start this conflict but I will do whatever it takes to make sure it ends in my favour.”
    “I believe you.”
    “That’s very good of you,” said Jurgen, raising an eyebrow. In that moment, he reminded Kormak of Karsten. The iron hand was just more deeply hidden by its velvet glove, cloaked by ironic humour and a slight diffidence. Like Karsten, Jurgen had grown up wielding power and he was not used to being challenged.
    “What will you do next?” Jurgen asked.
    “What do you want me to do?”
    “You could not be convinced to put a blade through Karsten’s ribs, could you?”
    “It would be suicidal. In the extremely unlikely event that his guards did not get me, then the City Watch would. I would just be the criminal who murdered a prominent citizen. A bounty would be placed on my head that would follow me wherever I went. I would prefer aiding you in some more subtle manner.”
    “I expected as much,” said Jurgen. “I’ll give some thought to the matter and be in touch. And by the way, Dren is grateful to you. He did not expect to get out of the warehouse alive. I am grateful too. Swords are easy to find. Useful, clever men are harder to replace.” There was a moment’s silence. Jurgen appeared to have said everything he wanted to say. He eyed the pathway out of the garden.
    Kormak said, “If you don’t mind, we will walk out together. I would not want any of your followers to get trigger-happy if they see me standing alone.”
    “An admirable suggestion. Let us walk together into the cloisters and you can make an offering to Saint Verma. I’m assuming you have enough money now.”
    “If I don’t now I soon will have.”
    “You must have a lot of sins to atone for.”
    “More than you can know,” said Kormak.

    Karsten did not look pleased at Kormak’s report. He put down his pen on the large oak desk, steepled his fingers, looked at the painted ceiling and let out a long sigh. The rings on his fingers glittered. “I would have expected Jurgen to be more disturbed at his pet being bested.”
    “He is a very self-possessed man,” Kormak said.
    “If I had known you were going to meet with him, I would have had a man with a crossbow on the scaffolding myself,” said Karsten.
    “And how would I have claimed my fee from a corpse” Kormak asked.
    “I would have seen you were suitably reimbursed.”
    “If Jurgen had suspected anything he would not have shown up. Be assured those crossbowmen were not the only watchers. Plus killing a man on sacred ground is sacrilege. I doubt that Saint Verma would grant me absolution for that no matter how large an offering I made.”
    “Sir Kormak would not kill a man on sacred ground,” said Balthazar. There was an ironic note in his scratchy voice. “How very pious of him.”
    Kormak stared at him and Balthazar was the first to look away. Karsten watched the exchange with considerable interest, and not a little surprise. He had not expected the magician to be the first one to give up. So much was obvious.
    “I will match what Jurgen has paid you,” said Karsten, opening a drawer in the desk and counting out a stack of gold coins. “I can see you are going to do very well out of this struggle. No