Imperial Traitor (9 page)

‘I quite agree,’ Borchman replied, looking up to meet the eyes of his opponent. ‘As long as that damned bell keeps ringing there is little chance of anyone not realising that
an imminent session of Court is likely.’ It will likely be the most interesting Court session we’ve seen in many a year, he added silently. He ran a finger down the side of the stack of
parchments on the desk. You were so darned well organised, Surabar, I would not be surprised to see you reach from beyond the grave and put everyone in line with your blasted Legion logic.

The Guildmaster looked around at the booths from his podium. Fourteen were occupied. Fourteen out of twenty – a third of the Guild dead, unaccounted for, or
incapacitated. It was not a pretty state of affairs.

As they recited the creed, he fingered his own silver icon under his robe, feeling the sleek lines of the panther. In his youth he had felt he resembled his emblem: powerful, silent and deadly.
Now he felt none of those things. More than anything he felt his age pressing down on him, an ever-present weight of years that was slowly curving his spine and sapping his strength. It was
interesting how some of the Brothers served to increase that weight, whilst the presence of others served to help him feel young again. His eyes came to rest on the dragon emblem. Shalidar fell
squarely in the former of the two categories.

Ferdand had never liked Shalidar. Since he had risen to the post of Guildmaster, Ferdand had come to know all the assassins. There was a streak of arrogance in most of them, but every meeting
with Shalidar had left a bitter taste in his mouth. If the Guild were not in a state of weakness, he would be all too glad to find Shalidar guilty today. In his heart he still secretly wished for
that outcome. There was very little that would give him more pleasure than to plunge his dagger into Shalidar’s heart and watch the light fade from his eyes. Somehow, he doubted that would
happen.

The bearer of the dragon icon had volunteered for this truth test. He would never have done so if he had not been confident he would pass. With his ability to wriggle his way out of the most
impossible situations, if there had been an eel icon, then Shalidar would have been ideally suited to it. The Guildmaster could only assume on this occasion that Shalidar really was free from
guilt, as the line of questions he had agreed to answer under the influence of truth serum would be damning if answered with responses other than those expected of him.

The final echoes of the creed faded. The dim hall fell silent. The Guildmaster raised his right hand towards the dragon emblem.

‘Brother Dragon, come forward,’ he intoned with solemn formality.

None of the other assassins knew what was about to happen. The silence thickened with an air of mystery and expectation. Hooded and cloaked as always in the presence of the other assassins,
Shalidar limped forwards until he was standing in front of the podium.

‘Brothers, you’re all aware of the death of the Emperor last night. What most of you do not know is that Brother Dragon was at the scene when the Emperor was killed. He claims
innocence in the matter. I am going to test that claim. It’s good that you’re all here to witness this, as it concerns the very core of the creed that we have just recited.’

Two servants emerged from the stairwell that led down into the Guildmaster’s private quarters. They walked forwards and positioned themselves either side of Shalidar, one taking each arm.
The Guildmaster descended from his podium and walked around to stand in front of Shalidar. From under his cloak, the Guildmaster drew a small glass vial containing a dark purple fluid. He held it
up high above his head.

‘For those of you who have never seen this before, it is truth serum. Any person under the influence of this substance cannot tell a lie. It is very powerful. No one has ever been known to
withhold a truthful response to questions posed whilst in its power. Truth serum is also dangerous. Some suffer violent reactions to ingesting it, the most extreme of which can result in death. I
should state for the record that Brother Dragon volunteered to take this truth test as he felt it necessary to prove his innocence in the death of the Emperor. There will no doubt be speculation
amongst the population of Shandrim as to our involvement. It is therefore important for all of us to know what really happened.’

The Guildmaster’s mellow tones had an unusually hard edge to them.

‘Brother Dragon, are you still willing to undergo this test?’ he asked.

‘I am.’

Shalidar made the simple statement with a firm voice. Ferdand could see his dark eyes glinting beneath his hood. They held a challenge that set the Guildmaster’s teeth on edge.

‘Then drink.’

To make sure the slippery assassin did not palm the vial and replace it with one of his own, Ferdand removed the stopper and poured the thick, sticky liquid into Shalidar’s mouth. He
watched as Shalidar made a swallowing motion.

‘May I see the inside of your mouth, please?’

Shalidar opened his mouth. His tongue was stained purple, right to the back. He had definitely drunk it down.

‘He has drunk the serum,’ Ferdand announced. ‘It will be fully effective inside a minute and last for about half an hour. I should make it clear that in order to protect
Brother Dragon from revealing unrelated secrets, I shall adhere to Guild protocol and only ask questions relating to the death of the Emperor. Providing he is innocent of breaching the creed in the
matter of the Emperor’s death, then he will be taken straight to his quarters. He shall then be left alone until the effects of the serum have worn off.’

The Guildmaster fell silent and focused on what he could see of Shalidar’s face. The assassin’s eyes began to lose focus. His pupils enlarged until they were totally dilated.
Suddenly Shalidar staggered. The two servants were quick to take his weight and hold him steady. The Guildmaster waited, prolonging the silence. He wanted to be absolutely sure that there was no
chance of Shalidar shamming. The dim light of the chamber tingled with a thickening air of breathless anticipation. All eyes stared unblinking at the four figures by the Guildmaster’s
podium.

With slow, deliberate movements, the Guildmaster drew a dagger from beneath his cloak. The steel blade glinted in the flickering torchlight as he brought it up in front of his face in a salute
before stepping forwards to place the point lightly against Shalidar’s chest. Standing this close he could see the slackness in Shalidar’s features. It was clear the truth serum had him
in its grip.

‘Brother Dragon,’ he began, ‘where were you at the time the Emperor received his fatal wound?’

Shalidar stared vacantly at the Guildmaster.

‘In the Imperial Palace, not five paces from where the Emperor was standing,’ he answered, his voice sounding flat and hollow.

‘What were you doing in the Palace?’

‘I was looking for Brother Wolf Spider . . .’

The Guildmaster was about to ask his next question, but he paused as he noted something unfinished in the way Shalidar had intoned his sentence. A strange look of mingled shock and horror crept
over Shalidar’s face as he fought an internal battle to conceal information.

‘. . . and . . .’

The connective had come out unbidden. Beads of sweat formed on Shalidar’s brow as he fought with all his strength against the effect of the drug. It was a battle he could never hope to
win.

‘And?’ the Guildmaster prompted.

‘. . . and for Femke, the Imperial spy,’ Shalidar said, his voice managing to convey his anger at this revelation despite being as flat and hollow as before.

Ferdand’s hand clenched the dagger and inadvertently pressed it a little harder against Shalidar’s chest. The revelation did not constitute a breech of the creed, though it did show
intent to do so. Ferdand could not kill him for intent. He would need more than that to justify plunging his blade into Shalidar’s heart.

‘Did you kill Emperor Surabar?’ he asked.

‘No!’ Shalidar replied immediately.

Was that relief in his tone? Ferdand wondered. It was hard to tell, though the anger in his previous statement had been clear.

‘Did you arrange for anyone else to kill the Emperor?’ he asked.

‘No.’ Again, Shalidar answered without hesitation.

‘How did the Emperor die?’

‘He was accidentally shot by one of his own guards.’

Clear, precise answers, with no sign of internal struggle: Shalidar was telling the truth. The Guildmaster slowly, almost reluctantly, raised his dagger in front of his face again and replaced
it inside his cloak.

‘Do any question the validity of Brother Dragon’s answers?’ he asked. Nothing would please him more than to have a reason to continue questioning Shalidar.

None of the Brothers responded.

Reluctantly he nodded to the servants for them to take Shalidar to his quarters. As they moved to comply, Ferdand caught a last glimpse of Shalidar’s face. There was a curious smugness
about his features that made Ferdand’s blood boil. Somehow Shalidar had done it again. He had concealed something. Ferdand did not know how he had done it, but his instincts told him that
Shalidar had somehow engineered the death of the Emperor. However, they had agreed the scope of the questions beforehand. Ferdand was a man of his word. Shalidar had answered the critical questions
in a way that could not be denied. He had clearly not killed the Emperor by his own hand. Nor had he paid another to make the hit. So what had he done?

The Guildmaster was very thoughtful as he climbed back up into his pulpit-like podium. The Shalidar mystery was one for another time. Brother Dragon would not be involved in any of the upcoming
hits, due to his injury. The next few weeks looked to offer an opportunity for the Guild to recover some of its recent losses due to the
anaethus drax
declaration. The trick would be
managing this time of opportunity in a way that would secure the Guild’s future.

‘Brothers, we have seen Brother Dragon prove his innocence in the matter of the Emperor’s death.’ The words tasted sour as he pronounced them, but he kept his tone positive.
‘Now that we have ascertained this, we can return to business in the knowledge that the creed has not been compromised. The inevitable race for the Mantle has already begun. There are five
Lords currently looking to claim power. I have already received word from three of those five stating that they wish to make use of our services in the near future. Each of them has also promised
the reinstatement of our Guild status and the repeal of the
anaethus drax
order.’

‘But can we trust any of these Lords, Guildmaster?’ The voice came from the alcove bearing the insignia of a viper. ‘We don’t want to find ourselves faced with another
Surabar. Are there any of them who stand above the rest?’

‘Good questions, Brother Viper. This is what we must determine before we take on any contracts over the coming weeks. Although there are five Lords who have currently declared their
intention to claim the Mantle, they will not necessarily be the only ones to do so. There may well be late entrants into this contest. We will need to be cautious and alert to changes if we are to
ensure our position in society is fully restored.’

‘So if we are offered contracts?’ The sultry tones of the Fox were unmistakeable in any meeting.

‘You’re to bring them to me before accepting them, Brother Fox. I will control which are accepted. It looks likely there will be plenty of work to go around. If we get this right,
the Guild will be secure for many years, so I don’t want to see anyone getting greedy. Once we have the right person in power, you’ll all be free to go back to working as normal. In the
meantime, please bear with the restrictions. They should not be in place for long.’

The Guildmaster paused for a moment. He had thought long and hard about his next point of order, but was still not totally convinced he had chosen the right people.

‘Brothers Cougar and Bear, I want you to continue the search for Brother Wolf Spider. This is to take priority over any other work. You will be recompensed for your time. Brothers Viper
and Fox, you are to look for the spy, Femke, and will also be paid for this task. It’s possible that you will find them together, but I want to cover the option that they may choose to work
independently. Wolf Spider, you may kill on sight, but I would like you to take Femke alive if at all possible. I have unfinished business with that young lady. Any questions?’

‘Just one, Guildmaster,’ the Fox said quickly. ‘Do you have any idea where we should start looking?’

‘As it happens, I do, Brother Fox. I’ll brief the four of you on possibilities at the end of this meeting. Now if there is nothing else on that subject, I shall move on to more
mundane matters . . .’

‘Yes?’ Toomas asked, cautiously cracking the door open. ‘What can I do for you?’

He eased the door open a little further as he took in the wealthy-looking young woman in her riding dress and cape. The horse tied to the rail looked tired. Logic dictated it was unlikely she
had been sent by any of his rivals here in the city to make trouble for him.

‘I’d like to come in for a chat, if I may,’ Femke answered, giving him a weary smile to accentuate her appearance of harmlessness.

‘Are you buying or selling?’

‘That depends,’ she temporised. ‘To start with, I just want to come in for a chat. I’ve come a long way to talk to you, Toomas. I promise you’ll learn something to
your benefit, but no money need change hands.’

Suspicion played on his face.

‘If you’re not here to buy or sell, then I’m not interested,’ he said, convinced that she was wasting his time. ‘Good day to you, lady.’

Toomas made to close the door, but had moved it no more than a couple of finger widths before Femke stopped it with her foot. He hardly saw her move, but as if by magic a knife had appeared in
her right hand and she had it at his throat before he could so much as flinch.

‘In that case, I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,’ she replied.

The expression on his face turned from suspicion to fear. He let go of the door and allowed her to open it.