Assassins' Dawn by Stephen Leigh Read Free Book Online Page B

intended for Hoorka. I merely wish to have an account of that night.”
    “Do you intend to reveal that you signed the contract?”
    The Li-Gallant laughed. “I’m not so foolish, Thane. And should it happen that Gunnar learns that I was the signer, it would simply add to the suspicions.”
    “It still wouldn’t be wise or prudent to neglect our payment, Li-Gallant.” The Thane stood abruptly, his nightcloak swirling. Vingi started, his eyes wide, and his hands disappeared below the surface of the desk. The Thane could see him fumbling for something unseen there.
    “Should I think you were summoning your guards, Li-Gallant, I might take it as a personal affront. I could easily appease my wounded dignity before they could enter.” The Thane hoped he’d taken the right path, had gauged Vingi’s fear correctly. If not—he thrust the apprehensions from him.
    “I don’t care for your threats, Hoorka,” Vingi replied, but his hands were now still. “If we were in public . . .”
    The Thane said nothing, waiting. In the silence, the sound of a muffled voice could be heard in Vingi’s outer office, followed by a high, clear laugh. It held no threat.
    The Li-Gallant brought his hands up and slid a pastel check across his desk. The Hoorka-thane smiled, his eyes openly laughing, and he leaned forward to take the payment.
    “Our thanks, Li-Gallant.”
    •   •   •
    The Thane walked easily through the streets: easily because the throngs parted before him with an apprehensive glance at the black and gray nightcloak of the Assassin’s Guild. Gray and black: no colors, no loyalty except to Hoorka-kin. The aura of the deathgods hung about him, subtle and menacing, and none cared to taint themselves by approaching too closely to this impassive man. They were used to hardship and death—the people of Neweden, a ghetto world by any standard—but the Hoorka were hardened and deadly beyond the norm. Better they be avoided. That was the consensus.
    The check from the Li-Gallant didn’t give the Thane as much pleasure as he’d expected. He had anticipated Vingi’s covert avoidance of payment, the hedging of an angered ruler. But Vingi’s anger had been something beyond the measured and calculating displeasure of a kin’s defense of offended pride, and it wasn’t in the Li-Gallant’s nature to let his ire fester long within himself. He’d exorcize the demon. How, and how would it affect Hoorka? The question nagged at him. Surely Vingi wouldn’t be so foolish as to declare this a matter of bloodfeud between their guilds? Vingi’s kin would die, and that would allow Gunnar’s ruling guild access to vacant seats on the Assembly. No, something more devious.
    The populace noised about him as the Thane passed through a market square. Carts loaded with produce were surrounded by shouting buyers while farmers bellowed vaguely-heard prices and boasted of the quality of their particular products. Someone brushed against the Thane’s side and muttered a quick, overly-sincere apology as he darted back into the crowd. Here and there a few flashily – clothed Diplos—members of the Alliance Diplomatic Resources Team—made their way through the milling people, but even they, the aristocracy protected by the offworld power of the Alliance, gave the Thane wide berth. It was, after all, a Neweden jest that even the Dead would part to let a Hoorka pass.
    The Thane walked slowly, letting the noise and bustle fade to the edges of his consciousness, thinking—
    —the Li-Gallant wants Gunnar dead, and he wants to know whether the Hoorka have sided with his opposition. He’ll find a way to determine if his paranoia is founded in truth or not. But how will he go about it, what can he do?
    —and what bothers me? Once I would have reveled in a confrontation like this, would have enjoyed the knife-edge of tension. Now I’m simply tired and unsure—I’d avoid this if I could. Cranmer’s thought: is it time to step aside?