Imperial Assassin by Mark Robson Page B

expected to kill someone in cold blood. It was
not a thought that filled him with joy.
    ‘How is your search going? Have you found me an assassin willing to kill the Emperor?’
    Lacedian shook his head. ‘No one has responded. Are you sure this is a good idea, Tremarle? Others have tried and been hanged for treason recently. It would only take one word in the wrong
ear and it’ll be us swinging from the gallows next.’
    ‘I’m not about to back down. Find me someone who won’t fail. I want revenge for the loss of my son and the loss of my House. Surabar must die.’
    A shiver ran down Lord Lacedian’s spine. There was a look of madness in his old friend’s eyes. It was possible that the death of Danar had unhinged Tremarle’s mind. Should he
continue to act on the request? He wanted to see the Emperor replaced by one with true Noble blood as much as anyone did, but was an assassination truly the way ahead?
    ‘I’ll try, my friend,’ he said finally, feeling forced to speak in order to break the pregnant silence. ‘There are few who are likely to accept the hit, but I will
enquire.’
    ‘You can offer them four thousand gold pieces to see if that will help them to decide.’
    ‘Four thousand! Have you got that much gold? There may even be some in the Guild who would overlook their creed for that sort of money.’
    ‘Lacedian, I would beggar myself to see Surabar dead now. He has destroyed my family’s future. I will not rest until he dies.’
    By chance, a passing cloud eased in front of the sun. The light in Lord Tremarle’s drawing room dropped dramatically. Lacedian shivered again. He was not normally superstitious, but the
timing of the sudden darkness gave the feeling of an omen. No matter how Lacedian tried to shrug it off, he could not shake the feeling that he should back out now before it was too late.
    He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He bowed his head and his heart sank. It was no good. He could not deny his friend. Doomed or not, Lacedian would find someone willing to take
on the hit. Four thousand in gold would buy a lot of interest. The problem would be keeping the contract a secret from the Emperor’s spies. If he failed, it would mean death – a
powerful incentive to keep from making mistakes.

C HAPTER F IVE
    ‘This way, Reynik,’ Femke ordered, striding off through the corridors of the Imperial Palace as if she owned the place.
    ‘Where are we going?’ he asked, jogging for a moment to catch up.
    ‘Firstly to find some civilian clothes for you to wear; then to find a man who can teach you to use a sword.’
    ‘But I can already fight with a sword,’ Reynik protested. ‘I admit I’m not the best swordsman around, but I can hold my own.’
    Femke stopped abruptly. Reynik tottered slightly as he fought to stop and maintain his balance. She gave him a hard stare and when she spoke it was in a low voice that would not be
overheard.
    ‘You walk like a soldier. You talk like a soldier. As far as I know, you probably fart and swear like a soldier! We have three weeks to beat that out of you, Reynik, or the Guild will see
right through you. I don’t want to think about what they would do to you then. I’m starting with the obvious. You will need to handle a sword differently. You will also need to acquire
other less usual weapons skills. We’ll not be able to hide your military training entirely in such a short time, but we should be able to build you an identity as a military drop-out. I see
you as a disaffected soldier who has turned to killing for a fee. The trick to making this persona convincing will be to eliminate some of your military habits and style, but leave evidence of your
past.’
    ‘That makes sense.’
    ‘Of course it does, so please don’t question my judgement. Do as you’re told like a good little soldier and things will be fine. I’ll conduct some of your training
myself, but for those things that I can’t teach you, I’ll