Imperial Traitor (13 page)

Reynik did not know the other man, but it was likely he would be another Guild member. His heart raced. He had to get out of the library – and fast! The only weapons he had about his
person were his knives. Cougar was wearing a sword. At first glance the other man appeared to be unarmed, though this was unlikely to be the case. Reynik’s options were limited. All the
windows in the library were far too high to reach. There were some side doors, but for all he knew, they could lead to dead ends. His only sure way out was through the main door at the front. To
get there he would have to get past the two men.

Closing the book, Reynik got to his feet. Thinking fast, his mind spun with possible options, but as fast as ideas came he dismissed them.

Cougar brushed past the librarian. He touched the other man’s arm and silently indicated Reynik’s position. They split without exchanging a word and walked forward with deadly
purpose. Cougar closed in from Reynik’s left, while the other man approached from his right. Reynik held his position. If he moved, the two assassins would alter track and corner him. At
present they were between him and the one known exit. They had all the angles covered. His thought was to draw them in close and then somehow create an opening through which to make his escape.
Unfortunately it was the ‘somehow’ that was causing him the problems.

‘Hey! What do you think you’re doing? If you two gentlemen are thinking of making trouble, then you can leave right now.’ The librarian bristled with anger, her coughing fit
miraculously forgotten.

Reynik grabbed the largest of the books from the table. ‘Get out of here. They won’t leave witnesses,’ he advised her urgently, his head moving from side to side as he tried to
watch both men approach. ‘Run! Don’t get involved.’

As if to confirm Reynik’s summation of the situation, Cougar drew his sword. The librarian’s eyes went wide as realisation dawned. She gave a squeak of terror, turned and fled across
the library, stumbling over her feet as she went. She disappeared out through one of the side doors. Reynik noted which one she had gone through, as it was likely to lead to an exit. Cougar noted
it too.

‘There’s nowhere to go, Wolf Spider. You’re mine this time. Your spy friend was captured last night, but your fate is not to be so kind. The Guildmaster wants nothing from you
other than your head.’

Reynik’s heart sank. They had Femke! He had to get away. If she had been taken to the Guild headquarters, there would be no way out for her unless he could stay alive.

The assassins were getting close. Their cold eyes held no mercy. Reynik met their stares with what he hoped was a cool front. Inside he was on the verge of panic. It was his final flitting scan
around the library for anything he might have missed that sparked inspiration. Hope flared.

In a single spinning motion Reynik flung his large book at Cougar, turned, picked up his chair and hurled it at the other man. The solid-looking assassin brushed it aside with an arm as if
flicking away an imaginary fly, but the projectiles had given Reynik the vital second or two he needed.

Without pause, Reynik vaulted up onto the table. To the two assassins’ amazement, however, he did not cross it and run for the door as they anticipated. Instead he turned and exploded into
a froglike leap back towards the huge bookcase behind the table. He grabbed the top, finding a good handhold as the bookcase tipped with the impact of his weight. For a moment, he thought the
bookcase was going to fall, but it faltered and then rocked back towards the upright. Clinging to the top, Reynik waited until the critical moment and then threw all his weight backwards to
accelerate the movement of the bookcase back towards his attackers.

For a moment it appeared his weight was not enough, the bookcase teetered once again at the point of no return. This time, however, Reynik’s weight on the down-going side made the vital
difference. The two assassins, Cougar with sword raised and ready to strike, suddenly found themselves bombarded by a deluge of falling books, followed by the crushing weight of the huge wooden
bookcase.

Reynik tried to throw himself clear, but realised too late that this was impossible. The only thing that saved all three men from being crushed by the massive weight of the bookcase was the
strength and solidity of the table at which Reynik had been working. The bookcase impacted the table and stopped with an almighty crash. Reynik landed awkwardly, colliding first with the far side
of the table before falling to the floor. The remaining books from the top three bookshelves fell on top of him. The two assassins were trapped in the narrow wedge between the bookcase and the
table, having been first buried under the majority of the falling books.

Reynik groaned as he rolled over, gaining first his hands and knees, then staggering to his feet. He felt bruised and battered, both front and back. There was a noise of movement under the
table. At least one of the two assassins was trying to get out. The warm rush of adrenalin burned in his belly once more. Forcing his pain-filled body into a lurching run, he crossed the library
towards the front door. As he ran, he saw the shocked face of the librarian peering round the side door through which he had seen her run a few moments earlier.

‘Come with me,’ he called to her. ‘If you want to live, come with me now.’ He held out his hand towards her. ‘Quickly!’ he added, urgency making his tone
harsh.

The young woman tentatively emerged from her hiding place and took his outstretched hand. A glance back revealed Cougar’s companion emerging from under the table. His face was twisted with
anger. Reynik began running towards the door. The librarian needed no further encouragement. She ran alongside him with light-footed steps. Together they burst out through the door of the library
and into the midday sunshine.

The small square outside was bustling with people going about their daily business. After a long morning spent in the quiet of the library, Reynik suffered a momentary shock as he emerged into
such a hive of activity. He paused for a split second as he took in the noise and motion around the busy junction, then he raced down the steps between the grand circular columns. At street level
he turned to his right and ran along the pavement, turning immediately right again along the first street he reached. The librarian ran with him, silent and unquestioning; most likely still in
shock, Reynik realised.

‘Listen,’ he said, keeping his voice low and urgent. ‘I’m sorry you got involved in this, but if I’d left you in the library those men would most likely have killed
you. I’m afraid you won’t be able to return there for some time.’

‘Why not? Who were those men? What did they want?’

Reynik steered them left along a back alley and stopped for a moment, pulling her close in to the wall out of sight. He peered around the corner, looking back down the street. There was no
immediate sign of pursuit, but he knew the two assassins would not give up easily. He turned towards her only to find her face uncomfortably close. Her proximity and the fact that she was still
clutching his hand tightly suddenly filtered through his thoughts of the assassins and the dangers they posed.

She was not quite as tall as he was. Her head tilted back just a fraction as she regarded him with her intelligent, brown eyes. For a moment he considered how much he should say. The more she
knew, the more reason the Guild would have to seek her out. There was a faint scent about her; sweet, like rose petals mixed with a hint of lavender. It wafted and curled around him with invisible
fingers that tickled his nose and ignited his blood.

‘Shand blast all women!’ he thought. ‘Why did the creator make them so damned intoxicating?’ With alarm, he noted what looked like hero worship in her expression. There
was something about her vulnerability that made him feel most uncomfortable.

‘Assassins,’ he said, trying desperately to snap out of his daze. ‘Cold-blooded killers who don’t hesitate to dispose of any who cross them. I don’t know how they
found me at the library, but you saw too much. They would not leave any alive who could identify them.’

The woman blushed and looked down at her feet. ‘I think I’m to blame for them finding you at the library,’ she said sheepishly.

Reynik put a finger under her chin and gently lifted it until she was forced to meet his gaze. To his surprise there were the beginnings of tears welling in her eyes.

‘What did you do?’ he asked.

‘It was the tags in the books you were looking at. There were strange instructions relating to them. Any librarian noting people reading books tagged with that colour are instructed to
send word to the bakery on the Western Avenue. The message was simply to say “library” to the senior baker. It did seem strange. I had not noted this instruction before, but then
I’d never noted any books with that colour tag before. I cannot imagine there are many.’

‘I think if you were to look carefully through the entire library, you would find the only books with that colour tag were the ones I was looking at,’ Reynik replied thoughtfully. He
removed his finger from under her chin. ‘Which means I was on the right track, even if I didn’t find what I was looking for. It wasn’t your fault. You were only following your
instructions. Don’t worry about it.’

‘That’s easy for you to say. What am I supposed to do now? You say I can’t go back to the library. Should I go home? If they wanted to find me it would not be hard for them to
find out where I live. I have made no secret of my address. Will they seek me out there?’

‘To be honest, I don’t know,’ Reynik admitted. ‘It would be safer for you to avoid going home for a while. I would take you with me, but that would place you in more
danger. I’ll see you to safety, but then you’ll have to take your chances alone. My advice is to get out of Shandrim. Go away somewhere – anywhere. If you stay quiet and out of
sight the Guild will forget you in time.’

Reynik snuck another look around the corner and pulled back immediately. Cougar’s associate was coming along the road towards their turning. The man was still some distance away but it was
clear they had dallied too long. Reynik raised a finger to his lips and noted the fear return to her eyes. Silently he gestured his intentions and they set off along the back alley at a fast, but
noiseless, walk. To run now would draw attention. He needed a weapon if he was to face the man on equal terms. If given the choice, however, he would rather not face the man at all.

They rounded a corner, taking them out of sight of the main road. Reynik thought about pausing again to see if the man entered the alley. He decided better of it, electing instead to continue to
the end and onto another major street.

When they emerged from the alley, a street market lined both sides of the road. The cries of competing stallholders imparted a sense of energy to the atmosphere. The air was thick with a rich
mixture of smells. The scent of exotic foreign spices mixed with aromas of fresh vegetables and cooking meat. One only had to take a few paces to experience the fragrance of freshly-cured leather
competing with those of burning incense oils and the smell of freshly-baked bread.

The librarian gripped Reynik’s hand even more tightly as he led her into the thick of the thrumming market. Together they threaded through the milling shoppers and between the stalls until
the crowds began to thin out. They were almost at the end of the market area when he spotted the stall.

‘Over here,’ he said softly, drawing her across the road. The stall sold weapons, both new and old. On the table were knives, daggers, crossbows, hatchets and short swords. Shields
of all shapes and sizes were hanging from the awning frame, both on the horizontal bar across the front of the stall and on all four of the uprights. In stands behind the table were long swords,
bows, pikes and pole arms of several varieties, double-handed battleaxes and a bundle of staves. It was the last item that had caught Reynik’s eye.

‘Can I have a look at one of your staves?’ he asked.

The stallholder drew one at random from the bundle and passed it across the table. When placed upright on the ground it proved to be slightly longer than Reynik was tall. He ran his hands along
the surface of the wood. It was smooth and polished to a deep, glossy shine. The weight was good too – heavy enough to be solid, but not so heavy that it would be awkward to manoeuvre.

‘How much?’ Reynik inquired indifferently.

‘Five senna.’

‘Five!’ he exclaimed, his voice outraged. ‘You have to be joking! It’s a piece of wood, for Shand’s sake! You can cut a branch from a tree and make one of these in
five minutes. I’ll give you two.’

‘How many trees do you see around here?’ The stallholder replied with a shrug. ‘A lot of work went into polishing that stave. Four senna.’

‘Three and I’ll take it, but not a sennut more.’

Reynik held out the stave for the stallholder to take back. The man looked him in the eye to see if he could squeeze a final offer. Reynik looked back, his expression unwavering. The stallholder
sighed.

‘Three senna then,’ he said in a dejected voice.

Reynik counted out the silver coins from his purse and handed them to the stallholder, who pocketed them swiftly.

With a stave in his hand, Reynik felt a lot more comfortable. It was tempting to tell the librarian that she would be safe now and send her on her way. The problem was that he knew it would be a
lie. Despite it having been her actions that had led the Guild to him, he felt an annoying, irrational sense of responsibility towards her.

Angry with himself for being so weak, he grabbed her hand again, leading her away from the stall and along the street until they left the market behind altogether. He looked back a few times,
but there was no sign of the assassins. Although he did not relax completely, it was with growing confidence that he moved through the streets towards the inn where he had spent the previous night.
His horse and bags were still there. He was keen to retrieve them. The big question mark in his mind was over what he should do next.