Assassins' Dawn by Stephen Leigh Read Free Book Online

poor and despised. Nothing had changed.
    It took much time to breach the layers of officialdom that shielded Vingi from the common public. The Thane was handed from attendant to attendant; from the gate ward to a garden-steward to a bland receptionist who ushered him into a waiting room and left him to stare at undecorated walls for several minutes. Finally, a secretary opened the door and beckoned to the Thane to follow—by the badge on the woman’s uniform, she’d been accepted into Vingi’s ruling guild and was now due the full respect of a person with kin. He bowed to her politely and entered the Li-Gallant’s office. The secretary bowed herself out.
    The Li-Gallant was standing at a window, his back to the Thane. He said nothing in the way of salutation, but began speaking as if in the middle of a conversation.
    “I failed to see a body at the gates this morning, Thane.” Vingi continued looking at the garden. His ornate robes of office moved with his breathing.
    The Thane, knowing it would irritate the Li-Gallant, seated himself in a floater near the desk that dominated the room. The Li-Gallant, hearing no answer to his statement, opaqued the window and turned to see the Thane already seated. He grimaced. Rings flared from his gold-banded and pudgy fingers. “I asked a question, Hoorka. I have kin, and I’ll brook no insult from anyone. Speak, man.”
    The Thane didn’t move, nor did his eyes flinch. He spoke with distillate calm. “There was no body to give you, Li-Gallant. Gunnar survived. He lived until our dawn. I can’t put it any more simply for you, nor do I think I owe you any further explanation.” A moment. “With all respect due kin, Li-Gallant.”
    Vingi backed away from the assassin, his face screaming undisguised anger, though his body sought to put the comforting bulwark of his desk between himself and the Hoorka. The Thane’s lassitude increased Vingi’s nervousness, made his bladder ache to be emptied.
    “You followed my orders?” The Li-Gallant seated himself.
    “We followed the code. You’ve read the contract, Li-Gallant. The victim is given his chance. We’re not murderers, not acting for our own kin in bloodfeud. We tilt the scales of life and death, but we don’t presume to be gods, able to take life at whim. That is Her prerogative.” The Thane bowed his head at the mention of She of the Five and watched Vingi expel an irritated breath. Good, he thought, Vingi’s upset, and our failure is justified ethically. Let him try to bring us before the Assembly. For the first time, he had hopes of leaving the keep with Hoorka safe.
    “I’ve no interest in the gods of your kin,” the Li-Gallant said, “simply in results.”
    “Results are often in a god’s control.”
    Vingi scowled. “What weapons did your people use?”
    “Daggers from Khaelia. The Alliance brought them to us as payment for a contract a few months ago. Very effective.”
    “Obviously.” Vingi waited for a reaction to his sarcasm and received none. He hurried to fill the silence. “Why didn’t you use firearms? Lasers?”
    “Li-Gallant, Gunnar had no bodyshield. The odds would have been over-balanced, and Dame Fate would have been angered. It isn’t our intention to tamper with destinies. If a person dies by the Hoorka, then he wasn’t meant for survival. If he lives, he was meant to live. The weak: they fall. The strong—perhaps they live. If that’s cruel, it’s no crueler than Dame Fate Herself.” The Thane folded his hands on the gray-black cloth of his lap as his eyes glittered darkly, daring objection. He sounded bored, as if reciting a lesson to a child.
    “I should have sent my own people.” Vingi’s right hand made a bejeweled fist that hovered indecisively over the marbled desk top. The fist was an impotent weapon, speaking of too much disuse to be a symbol of anything but wealth. The Thane’s lips curled in a vestige of a smile that flickered for an instant and was gone.
    “You sent