Imperial Assassin by Mark Robson

Author:Mark Robson [Robson, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781471116551
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK

CHAPTER NINE

‘Tremarle! Tremarle! He’s coming for me. It’s all over town. He’s coming for me.’

Lord Lacedian burst into Lord Tremarle’s drawing room with none of his normal decorum. Tremarle looked up at his friend, taking in his pallor and trembling hands without allowing his own cool, unruffled demeanour to crack. Inside, however, his heart leaped. What was his friend talking about? Who had frightened Lacedian enough to get him into this state?

‘Calm down, old friend. Calm down,’ Tremarle replied, keeping his voice low and soothing. He rose smoothly from his chair and crossed the room to a drinks cabinet. Taking out two glasses, he poured generous measures of brandy from a crystal decanter into each and handed the fuller of the two to Lacedian. The old Lord accepted it with both hands, gripping the glass tightly in an effort to prevent his shaking from spilling the spirit on the expensive carpet. ‘Take a seat, Lacedian. Calm down and tell me what has you in such a fluster.’

Lacedian took a large pull at the brandy and closed his eyes for a second as he attempted to regain his composure. He made a move as if to sit down, but changed his mind at the last second. Instead he began pacing up and down the drawing room, his mind clearly racing as he organised his thoughts to speak.

‘The man who killed Kempten is coming for me next. A tattle tout came to me this morning and sold me the information. I was tempted to ignore it as scaremongering, but another came this afternoon. The second was annoyed that he was not the first to reach me with the news. Someone has deliberately fed the news to the touts. The only thing I can think is the killer wants me to know he’s coming. What sort of sick sadist is he? Did he torment Kempten like this?’

‘Don’t be too hasty, Lacedian. I doubt that Kempten knew he was the planned target of an assassin, or he would have increased his personal security. From what I hear, the man walked into the Civil Court and threw a knife at him. There were no guards on Kempten’s door. He was not wearing any sort of protective armour. Nothing. Also, this may just be a hoax. Have you annoyed anyone enough recently to warrant them putting out a contract on you?’

Lacedian stopped pacing and looked pointedly at Tremarle.

‘No one apart from the obvious,’ he answered.

‘Surabar! Ridiculous! He’s in the middle of purging the city of assassins. Can you imagine what it would do to his image if he were found to have contracted a killer during such a campaign? Such hypocrisy would see him handing over the Mantle before he could blink twice. The man is too strait-laced for such an action. No, I would forget any idea of it being Surabar. If the killer you hired to kill the Emperor had talked, you would be hanging from the gallows now – with me alongside you, most likely.

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