Imperial Assassin by Mark Robson Read Free Book Online Page B

tents at ninety degrees from the direction of his destination. Once he was far enough offset
from Shalidar’s route to avoid detection, he turned and paralleled the assassin’s track. It didn’t take long to overtake him. By the time Shalidar reached the guard post at the
edge of tent city, Reynik was in position, concealed nearby to watch what happened.
    The assassin stopped and began talking in a low, urgent voice to the guards. His body language conveyed his message beautifully. Reynik was not close enough to hear what he was saying, but he
did not need to be. He got the message loud and clear. Something bad had happened in the centre of the camp and the guards were to increase their alertness.
    ‘Very clever,’ Reynik conceded silently. ‘As the bearer of the news, you put yourself above suspicion. Decision time. If I let him go into the city I will most likely lose him,
or be discovered. If I call out, others might die.’
    It was a difficult choice, but Reynik could not in conscience let the assassin go. He drew a deep breath and then launched into a sprint from his hiding place.
    ‘Stop that man!’ he yelled. ‘He’s an assassin. Stop him!’
    The guards looked around in surprise, but if the assassin was surprised, he showed none of it. The momentary confusion of the guards was enough to give him the advantage he needed. Before Reynik
had covered half the distance to the guard post, two guards were down and the other two had backed away in shock, giving the assassin the space to make his break.
    He ran. Reynik ran after him, yelling for the remaining guards to follow as he went past. They didn’t move. Seconds later a glance over his shoulder revealed them to be dithering;
paralysed with indecision. He would receive no help from them, he realised. It was one on one. In his dreams, Reynik had imagined this meeting, though this was not quite as he had envisioned it. In
his mind, he had thought to meet Shalidar face to face with a sword in his hand to duel with him to the death. Not surprisingly, he had never pictured himself dog-tired, chasing the assassin with a
shovel as his only weapon!
    Shalidar was fleet of foot, and it was taking every ounce of Reynik’s flagging strength for him to keep his quarry in sight. The shovel was hardly an easy implement to run with. Its length
alone made it awkward to carry, but the imbalance of weight due to the metal head made it worse. Reynik tried swapping positions as he ran, but he could not find a way of holding it that allowed
him to run freely. Within a couple of minutes, he realised that the assassin was getting away from him.
    The streets were largely empty. The road they were running along was one of the major routes into the heart of the city, but it was late and the merchants had stopped trading more than an hour
before. Most people were at home preparing their evening meal. There were a few folk abroad, mainly men in small groups on their way to the local taverns for a drink. Those that were abroad
observed the chase with interest, some pointing and laughing at the sight of a filthy soldier carrying a spade chasing another who sported a sword and dagger at his side. Not one of them moved to
interfere in any way. If he could, Reynik would have solicited help from them, but he did not have the breath left to shout. It was all he could do to keep running.
    The aroma in the streets was pungent. An evil brew of rotting waste in the gutters mixed with the open sewerage channels. It was little wonder that the peasants in the poor quarters had a short
life expectancy, Reynik thought as he pounded through the filth. Even panting hard as he was through his mouth, it was impossible to ignore the stench totally. It clung to the back of his throat
like treacle. However, despite the choking odour he retained his focus, never allowing his attention to shift from the chase.
    Shalidar turned left off the main avenue into a side street. He had a good sixty pace