The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) by Michael Foster

interrupted them and Chatrise hurried over to look into the dim courtyard, as did Leopold. The other ladies also rushed to the several windows along the wall, fussing as they struggled to make out what occurred below.
    ‘What is it? What has happened?’ one of them called below.
    Guards rushed to the scene, gathering with torches and lanterns in hand.
    ‘A body. Stabbed in the back,’ one of them called aloud, a dark shape splayed at his feet. ‘Truthseekers!’ he added with dismay, and it sent a gasp of horror through the room. More guards were running into the courtyard, as others were coming into the room, ushering them away from the windows and closing the giant wooden shutters to keep out the night.
    ‘Calm yourselves, Ladies,’ one of them said, an aging fellow. Leopold noted that his armour and equipment looked as old as he, meticulously cared for. The leather straps that held his plating in place were dark and soft with age, showing no sign of mistreatment. The steel was crossed with grooves and furrows from the numerous blows it had taken over the years, the sharp edges polished smooth.
    Chatrise drew Leopold aside while the ladies pulled their children back to the rugs and the fireplace. ‘You should return to your room,’ she told him in a hushed voice. ‘If Truthseekers are here, your life is in danger.’
    ‘Who are they?’ Leopold asked. ‘What do they want?’
    ‘They are killers. No one knows who they are or what they look like. None have ever been caught. Now you are here, they will be after you most of all. Yes, yes, you should not tell anyone who you are, and I will keep your secret safe. Quickly! Go! The guards will shortly guide us into the cellars below this building and we will stay there until they are sure it is safe.’
    Leopold hurried away at her command and retraced his way down the halls, until he was beside the window he had used to enter the building. He waited until the passageway was empty of rushing soldiers and servants, and then quickly took his chance, climbing outside and up, agile as a monkey.
    Guards were running about madly, shining their lamps into all the dark corners to find their quarry. Leopold shuffled along the wall in the darkness, returning to the point where he could vault across the space between the buildings. He was about to reach his leg across the gap, when he felt someone watching him; he was not alone. Sitting on the rooftop above, swathed in dark cloth and shadow, was a figure; the moonlight revealed a pale, moustached face.
    ‘What brings you here, young man?’ the fellow asked with amusement.
    Leopold froze. He had no excuse. He had been caught. A terrible thought occurred to him at that moment. Have I stumbled upon the Truthseeker?
    ‘I could ask you the same,’ Leopold replied, summoning up a menacing tone.
    The man chuckled in response. ‘Come up here. I am no accursed Truthseeker. I would talk with you a moment, young Leopold. If the Truthseekers are here, you are best locked safely inside your room before they learn of your existence. You make an easy target for their blades.’
    Leopold climbed and sat on the rooftop, facing the stranger. Balanced precariously, straddling the angled ridge, it was as if he sat upon the saddle of a gigantic horse. ‘How do you know my name?’
    ‘I keep my ear to the ground, Leopold; but so do the Truthseekers; they may know of you already. They have killed someone in the open, possibly a distraction for just that purpose—which is why I came to check on you.’
    ‘Why would they want to kill me?’ Leopold asked defensively. ‘I have done nothing to them.’
    Again the man laughed, not with ill humour, but genuinely amused by Leopold’s comments. ‘You are so naive, boy; not at all like your father. Nobody needs any reason to kill anyone else—especially in these dark days. The Truthseekers are instruments of evil and they murder anyone with an inkling of magic in their blood.’
    ‘Then why would