Imperial Traitor (6 page)

‘What are you suggesting, Femke?’ Lord Kempten asked, watching her response intently.

‘I would have thought that clear, my Lord. Someone must pay Toomas a visit.’ She turned to Danni again. ‘Are there any more like you here, Danni? Should we be looking for
others in the employ of tattle touts?’

Danni looked genuinely surprised. ‘I don’t think so, Miss Femke. I’m not aware of any – honest, I’m not.’

Femke believed her. She was not a good liar and her vehemence seemed genuine. ‘Very well. Do you have anywhere you can effectively confine her for the time being, my Lord? I don’t
think she’s dangerous, but she cannot be allowed to communicate with the world outside this house for a while.’

‘I’ll see to it,’ Lady Kempten offered. ‘If Reynik would escort us, I’ll lead the way.’

‘Of course, my Lady.’

Femke waited until the three of them were out of earshot and then turned back to Lord Kempten. He still looked angry, but there was also an air of thoughtfulness about him.

‘How much do you think she heard, Femke?’

‘I’m not entirely sure, my Lord. I suggest you keep her isolated until any information she could have gleaned is no longer relevant. It will be onerous, but I believe it’s for
the best.’

Lord Kempten wore a dark frown as he considered and dismissed possible alternatives. ‘I agree,’ he said after a moment. ‘I’ll see to it.’

‘My Lord, there are other issues we need to discuss,’ Femke added. ‘You might want to consider moving your family. If I don’t get to Toomas in time, there is no telling
what the Guild might do.’

Lord Kempten’s face paled. ‘Where would I move them to?’ he asked. ‘I can’t send them back to the city and I don’t have anywhere else.’

‘It’s just something to consider, my Lord. Think on it. If you feel it necessary, then you’ll think of somewhere. Information is going to be key to this whole situation. He who
controls the information flow will control the situation. I’ll get to Toomas as soon as I can. Experience tells me he’s highly unlikely to have sold news of you yet. He will know the
potential value of that information and will seek to gain the maximum yield possible from it.’

‘Very well, I’ll give it some thought,’ he said. ‘Is there anything else?’

‘Yes, my Lord. We need confirmation that the Guild Headquarters is under the Imperial Palace. Even if you decided not to pursue their destruction, this knowledge would give you an edge in
dealing with them in future. I would also suggest we research a way of disrupting their transportation system. That will require specialist knowledge. We need the help of a magician –
preferably a powerful one who knows what he’s about. Do you know of any we might approach?’

Lord Kempten nodded. ‘I do know such a man. He is a member of the Council of Magicians. I could send for him, but Terilla is a long ride. Assuming he left as soon as he received my
message, it would be nigh on a week before he could get here.’

Femke sighed and shrugged. ‘A lot can happen in a week, my Lord, but we’ll need his input if we’re to learn how we can interrupt the Guild’s use of magic. Also, he might
know if it’s possible to break the bond between Reynik and the spider icon safely. I’m worried that the icons might have more powers than we’ve seen to date. I’d hate to
think of the Guild having some sort of control over him that we don’t understand. We need more information, but we’re unlikely to find answers from within Shandrim. Please send for this
magician and stress the urgency of the situation without giving away too many specifics.’

Lord Kempten nodded thoughtfully. ‘Time flows quickly during times of turbulence,’ he observed. ‘Decisive action will rule the day, I feel. Damn it! Surabar was far better at
this sort of thing than I. It feels as if I’m walking on the top of a high wall; one bad step and I could fall.’

‘In that case, my Lord, I have one final piece of advice.’

‘Yes?’

‘Keep moving forwards and, whatever you do, don’t look down!’

Shalidar fell, but he did not let go of the curtain material. The top half of his body tipped outwards from the wall until it reached about sixty degrees. The material pulled
tight with a jolt. His arms took the initial strain, but he could not prevent his body spinning sideways until his right shoulder impacted the wall. Before he knew it, he was hanging from the wall
with the cloth slipping through his fingers.

He swung, his body scraping against the stone. The pain from the arrow in his leg fogged his senses with a mist of red. He clung on desperately, trying with all his might to restore a stable
grip on the material, but in vain. He accelerated towards the ground, the cloth burning his palms until he was forced to let go entirely. The last few feet he fell unchecked, but he had done enough
to ensure his fall would not be fatal.

He hit the ground hard, his legs folding underneath him until his knees hit his chest. The feathered tail of the crossbow bolt jammed hard against his ribcage, driving the point of the arrow
even further into the taut thigh muscle. He cried out. He could not help it. The pain was excruciating. He rolled on the ground for a moment, clutching at the area around the arrow wound and
groaning in agony.

Despite the pain, Shalidar had too much to lose by getting caught. He knew that if he could just get back to his transfer stone, he would have the chance to inherit Tremarle’s House. It
was a powerful incentive.

With gritted teeth, he forced his body upright and hobbled away from the wall. There were a few families in the street, following the road around the Palace wall towards the gathering area at
the main gates. He snarled in their direction. It was enough. They hurried on their way, adults pointedly looking away and desperately urging their fascinated children to do likewise.

Fear would keep them from bothering him while he was close by, but he knew the city patrols would soon hear of his presence. He had to get out of sight as quickly as he could. There was a dark
alleyway on the far side of the street. Shalidar limped across to the entrance and embraced the darkness as he moved away from the Palace with all speed.

He could put little weight on his right leg, which made stealthy movement difficult. However, even with his injury, Shalidar moved more quietly than most. A limping ghost, he navigated his way
through the maze of back streets. Despite the blinding pain, he did not stop until he reached his transfer stone nearly a half hour later.

The familiar sensation of transfer was bliss. For an instant the pain in his leg dissolved into a million tiny fragments. The coalescence in his private chamber was not so pleasant, but it did
bring with it the knowledge that he was safe for the time being: providing the Guildmaster would accept his innocence in the matter of the death of Emperor Surabar, of course.

‘Don’t invite more trouble,’ he muttered as he staggered over to a chair. ‘One thing at a time.’

The bell to attract the attention of one of the serving staff was on the dahl table nearby. With a groan, Shalidar stretched across, grabbed it, and rang it several times before placing it where
he could reach it more easily. He sat back and waited. The servants were efficient. He knew he would not have to wait long.

One of the brown-robed men appeared within a minute. Shalidar did not need to see the servant’s expression under his deep hood to sense his surprise.

‘Sir?’ he asked, giving his customary bow.

‘Fetch alcohol, hot boiled water and plenty of cloths,’ Shalidar ordered.

‘Of course, sir,’ the servant replied. ‘Anything else?’

‘Well, I’d appreciate the help of someone who has drawn arrows before, if we have anyone. I’d do this myself, but I might not retain consciousness long enough to clean up
afterwards.’

‘Very good, sir. I’ll see to it at once.’

The servant turned and left at a run. When he returned a few minutes later, Shalidar was surprised to see the figure accompanying him. It was the Guildmaster. Shalidar struggled to sit
upright.

‘I would stand, Guildmaster,’ he said with a grimace, ‘but I’m somewhat hampered right now.’

‘So I see.’ The Guildmaster’s soft voice gave away nothing. He moved forward to inspect the wound. ‘Might I ask who bestowed this little gift on you? It doesn’t
seem like Brother Wolf Spider’s style somehow.’

‘One of the Imperial guards, I imagine,’ Shalidar replied with a shrug. ‘I didn’t actually see it coming.’

‘So you’ve been at the Palace. And did you apprehend our young infiltrator?’

‘No, Guildmaster.’

‘Hardly a great surprise given that he came back here,’ Ferdand observed, remaining still as he watched for Shalidar’s reaction.

Shalidar’s eyes narrowed as he tried to see past the rim of the Guildmaster’s dark hood. It was no use. He could just about make out the tip of the old man’s nose. He would
have given a lot to see Ferdand’s expression. He had never learned to read the inflections in the old Lord’s voice. Was he being serious, or was he conducting some subtle test?

‘It seems that when he left in a hurry earlier today,’ the Guildmaster continued, ‘he left something behind . . . well, when I say “something”, it would actually be
more accurate to say “someone”.’

‘Femke?’

‘Precisely. Hmm, this is going to hurt. Would you like something to bite on?’

‘Thanks, but no. Did you catch her?’ Shalidar asked, unable to totally conceal a note of hope in his tone.

The Guildmaster did not say anything for a moment. He dipped a small towel in the hot water and wrung it out. He placed it around the entry point of the bolt and braced Shalidar’s leg with
his left hand as he grasped the protruding feathered shaft with his right.

‘No,’ he said slowly, ‘she got away. As did young Wolf Spider.’

With a sharp pull, he wrenched the arrow from Shalidar’s leg. The assassin gasped at the pain, but did not cry out. ‘You were lucky,’ the Guildmaster noted as he clamped the
cloth over the hole and held the bloodied bolt up to inspect it. ‘There’s been a recent trend of cutting barbs on the shafts of these. They tear the flesh when they are removed. This is
a straight shaft with a normal point. The wound is deep, but it didn’t hit the bone and it doesn’t look as if it severed any major blood vessels. You will have to avoid running or any
strenuous exercise for a while, but a normal padded dressing and bandage should see it heal well. I’m sure I don’t need to lecture you on changing the dressings regularly.’

Shalidar shook his head. With iron control, he calmed his breathing until he felt he could speak normally. When he did so, his voice was strained, but he spoke with a normal tempo.

‘Who have you sent after them?’ he asked.

‘Cougar, Viper and Bear are all out in the city with orders to find and kill Wolf Spider. Brothers Firedrake and Griffin are watching his transfer stones. As Wolf Spider managed to get in
and out again via the stone that Firedrake was supposed to be watching, I assume that Wolf Spider has neutralised him. The alarm has not rung, so he cannot be dead, but I’ve sent Brother Fox
to see if she can find out where he is.’

‘And Femke? Have you sent anyone after her?’

Shalidar could feel the intensity of the gaze emanating from under the Guildmaster’s deep hood. He had pushed the old man before about disposing of Femke. His previous attempts to secure
permission to kill her had failed. After the incident at Mantor, Shalidar had felt sure the Guildmaster would authorise her termination, but instead it had felt as if he had been shielding her. The
feeling had to be nonsense, of course. The Guildmaster was renowned amongst the Brothers for his neutrality.

To Shalidar’s amazement, the old man began to laugh.

‘There’s no need to go after Femke,’ he chuckled. ‘She will find a way to come back and visit us soon enough.’

‘She will?’ Shalidar could not imagine why.

‘Yes,’ the Guildmaster said confidently. ‘She discovered something here that will draw her back like a moth to the light. When she comes, we’ll be waiting for her. In the
meantime we’ll have our scouts in the city watch for both Femke and Wolf Spider. They’ll not run far and there are some people in the city with whom I know Femke deals regularly.
I’ll have them watched. The infiltrators will surface, just you wait and see.’ The Guildmaster turned to the servant who had been standing in silence at the far side of the room.
‘Help Brother Dragon bind his wound, would you? I have to get back to the central chamber. I’m expecting reports at any time.’

‘Guildmaster, there is something I need to report before you go,’ Shalidar said quickly.

The cloaked figure halted in his tracks and turned slowly to face Shalidar once more. ‘Yes? What’s that, Brother Dragon?’

‘It’s the Emperor, Guildmaster. He’s dead.’

The Guildmaster froze for a second as he assimilated Shalidar’s statement.

‘And how, exactly, did he die, Brother Dragon?’

For the first time in a very long time, Shalidar could sense something of the emotions riding under the surface of the Guildmaster’s calm voice. Anger, disbelief and incredulity were
discernible in his tone, though his speech did not rise one decibel above his normal mellow volume.