Dragon Assassin

by Arthur Slade

  I arced through the air but I’d miss the balcony, which meant I’d be breaking bones on the ground in a moment. I stretched my arms as far as I could.

  And caught the very edge of the balcony.

  My chest slammed into the stone, knocking the breath out of my lungs. But I was able to clutch one hand over the edge and hold myself there, despite the rediscovered pain in my shoulders. Then slowly, knowing I was in full view of anyone walking below, I pulled up. My ribs ached as I drew myself over and crumpled down onto the balcony. I sat there for a moment trying not to huff and puff.

  It would have been so much easier just to fly on Brax’s back. But the ballistae and the wards would have been too much of a risk.

  There had been no outcry, so I hadn’t been spotted. I felt my ribs, and they didn’t seem broken. Though my body certainly ached from the fight last night. I was tempted to lie down here and sleep.

  But that wouldn’t help Megan. Or accomplish our goal.

  I stood and leaned against the palace and made my quiet way along the long balcony.

  It was a perfect execution, gaining the palace without being spotted. If we’d been in class Maestru Alesius would have complimented me. Everything was working out.

  Until a glass door swung open in front of me.

  Chapter 19

  A Gifted Nose

  I hid behind a stone pot shaped like a bear, hoping the fronds from the palm plant blocked all of me from sight. A man and a woman, both in blue togas, stepped out. The man was portly but steady on his feet, while the woman was tall, her spine straight.

  “Ah, fresh air,” she said.

  “We need it,” the man replied. “So much hot air in that room. Such a bountiful selection of obsequiousness.”

  I was pretty certain his use of large words meant he was an ambassador from Avenus. The Avenians loved language like no other peoples.

  “Everyone must bend their knee toward the young emperor.” The woman had taken another step, revealing she had a bronze crown of laurel leaves in her hair — she was Thena, the archon of Avenus. I pressed my back even harder against the wall. Her protective guard would be near, perhaps just inside that door. “He’s taken the assassins off the board and we have lost our only way to reach right into the throne.”

  “I expect the drums of war to thud soon enough.” The consul’s breath rattled, and I wondered if he had a cold or some sickness in his lungs. “This land is too dry for me.”

  “The humour too,” Archon Thena said. “Scratch that — there is no humour at all. A whole empire where everyone is too frightened to laugh unless the joke is made by Sargon himself.”

  A small bell rang from inside.

  The man turned back toward the door. “Ah, we are summoned,” he said. “Let us put an oafish smile on our faces.”

  “It’s our best defence,” the archon said.

  They both laughed and went back into the palace. I crept along until I reached the door and decided to close it, thereby preventing a servant from coming along and spotting me. But as I pushed, a hand stopped the door. I tucked myself back against the stone wall but I was far too much in the open for my liking.

  The portly ambassador from Avenus was standing there, his arm holding the fold of his blue toga as though he were posing for a painting.

  “Please don’t move,” he said. “I won’t cry out ‘there’s an assassin on the balcony,’ which would bring a cavalcade of grouchy Immortals here.”

  “Uh, thanks,” I whispered.

  “We have only a short time for you to answer my questions. My guess is you are not one of the emperor’s pet assassins.”

  “No. I’m not,” I said. I set my foot against the wall. Despite his apparent friendliness, he could betray me in a moment. I’d launch myself over the balcony, catch the wall, and flip down to the ground.

  “Would you be willing to tell me what your aim is on during this vaunted Feast of Friends?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Well, that’s understandable.” He took a deep breath. “I’m just playing my part by breathing in so loud. We wouldn’t want anyone thinking I was chatting with an assassin.”

  “How did you see me?” I asked. “I was well hidden.”

  He tapped his pudgy nose. “You may say I have a nose for things.”

  He’d smelled me? I should have known. My nostrils had gotten used to the smell of manure and urine. It had dried, but the smell hadn’t left me.

  “I’m pleased there are still a few of you gloriously sombre assassins alive to strike back.” He rubbed his hands together. “We have protected those we could. But the best are all dead.”

  “Will you expose me?” I was wondering if I could get around the door and bring him down before he yelled.

  “No. I like the idea of the emperor getting a nosebleed tonight. If you succeed in whatever your task is, then that helps my wonderful city.”

  “I see,” I said. “Then I ask that you let me move along.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” he asked politely.

  “You may.”

  “There is a window just beyond the end of this balcony. It leads to a pantry.”

  “I’m aware of that room,” I said, which was true. But I didn’t know what was in it.

  “Of course, you are. But I want to inform you that it has a decorative interior window at the top that will give a clear view of the proceedings.”

  “Oh, good,” I said. The window wasn’t in the plans and must have been added later. It sounded like the perfect place to hide and observe the goings-on. Though I knew it could also be a way to trap me in a single room. “Thank you,” I said, finally.

  “I know your type are suspicious. Rightfully so. But it is not a trap. I want you to succeed. This is such a boorish waste of an empire if you ask me.” He took a deeper breath. “Ah, that is refreshing sea air,” he said a little loudly, and then he whispered, “Good luck, assassin. May Belaz guide your blade.”

  When he invoked the name of my goddess, a thrill went down my spine as if I’d received a blessing.

  “She will,” I said.

  Then he pulled the door shut, and I snuck past. The window was where he’d said it would be and it was easily accessible.

  I’d be able to jump back out if things turned sour.

  I climbed in.

  Chapter 20

  A Peek at Power

  The small storage room was exactly as the ambassador described it. I landed on the floor and scraped whatever dung I could off my shoes, then threw the refuse back out the window. I then climbed to the ceiling, ignoring my aching shoulders, and peered through the circular window at the top of the room.

  The ambassador had also been correct about the fact the interior window gave me an excellent view of the hall. If I’d had a crossbow, I could have put a bolt through any of the rich and pompous people gathered below.

  A moment later the ambassador himself walked by and glanced up at me with a little grin, then turned, flourished his toga, and went down a set of several steps into the main floor of the hall. The archon was ahead of him. Her blue robe was stunning, and the lamps caught the bronze leaves on her head as she nodded and spoke to the people she passed. Beyond her, already seated at table after marble table, were the other heads of state or their ambassadors or princes. I could guess which countries were here by their colours — representatives from every realm.

  All the servers were women in white dresses and white bonnets. I scanned each face and thought I saw one with the same features Megan had created. But I couldn’t be certain from this distance, even with my dragon eye. I wished I’d stared at her mask longer.

  I memorized the location of each doorway, noting the number of guards in the room and where they stood. Then a gong gonged and the great hall, stuffed full of such powerful people, fell silent.

  Two rows of Immortals marched down either side of the hall and stood facing the guests, grim faced and powerful. If anyone had wanted to leave they would
have to walk past these men. It crossed my mind that this might be another of those meals where an emperor got rid of his enemies.

  Several of the princes and women were thinking along the same lines, for I could see them clutching their knives and forks more tightly. One even pulled back a butter knife and hid it in his sleeve. It was laughable. If these Immortals could easily dispatch the assassins, then court diplomats and princes with soft words for training would be a moment’s work for them.

  Killing everyone wouldn’t make sense. Many of these people were the emperor’s closest allies.

  Then the next movement at the front of the room sent chills down my spine.

  My brother strode down the centre of the great hall, displaying a sly, wide smile.

  Chapter 21

  The White Bear

  Corwin was clad in dark armour of a kind I’d never seen before. It wasn’t heavy because he strode easily through the room, smirking as he looked from one table to the other. He halted in front of a prince from Eshya — I recognized the bronze crown. My brother said something to him and the man paled visibly. Then Corwin carried on, staring at each powerful person in turn. He halted again before the archon from Avenus and pointed at her. She stared back at him without a sign of emotion on her face.

  He turned and spread his arms toward the crowd in a gesture that might be interpreted as welcoming. He was facing toward me. I could have put a bolt through his eye from here, if I’d had my weapons. That would stop his gloating! He made one more gesture and a gong sounded, and then Corwin backed out of the room.

  The doors to the interior of the palace swung wide and a large elephant covered in silver armour rumbled down the aisle, its weight threatening to break the marble floor. A white bear followed it, and like Corwin it looked from table to table with absolute confidence. I knew these bears lived far in the north, but this one was trained well. How it held back from lunging at all the meals on dishes and the meals in robes, I didn’t know.

  Oh, why couldn’t the Akkadians worship a sheep?

  Then Emperor Sargon entered the room.

  The emperor, too, was dressed in a long, flowing robe as white as the cleanest, purest snow. It trailed a good twenty feet behind him. His famous bear amulet sat easily on his chest. I’d read descriptions of Sargon before he became emperor. He was thirty summers old and was described as having symmetrical features — that was our way of saying both his eyes matched and his nose wasn’t too big. Some might interpret that as an indication he was handsome.

  If that was their intention, they had failed in their description. Because he was eye-catchingly beautiful, his dark hair oiled and curly, and his face clean-shaven and almost boyish. His shoulders were wide and clad in white bear fur. But what he had most of all was charisma — I’d seen the same in my brother, and briefly in Banderius.

  Sargon had only been emperor for fifty days, but he carried himself as if he had worn the crown since birth. And even though I knew I should be looking around to be sure my brother wasn’t patrolling the room, I couldn’t turn my head.

  A spell?

  And when I asked that question my dragon eye answered by showing me a grey-and-black vision of the room. There were red lines, like a nimbus, coming out of the emperor’s form and touching the forehead of every onlooker.

  It was a spell. Even though he had his own charisma, it forced us all to look.

  I followed the lines and noticed that one had been deflected and was going to the roof. The archon Thena had a ruby around her throat, and it looked to have created a glowing sphere that deflected the red lines. It was brave of her to bring her own magical items into the presence of the emperor.

  Then Sargon waved his hand and the room filled with applause. At first I thought that too was some sort of spell, but I saw that the archon and several princes were not applauding. His allies were making up for them by clapping madly.

  “Unlike previous emperors, I have no long speeches to give,” Emperor Sargon said. His voice was deep and resonant and I heard it clearly, although he wasn’t talking directly to me. Another spell? “For we’ll all talk one-on-one soon enough. Instead —” he snapped his fingers “— your bounty awaits.”

  With that sound, the servers came out of either side of the hall bearing plates stuffed with roast fowl, fruits, vegetables, rice, breads — every sort of food imaginable. It was a perfectly timed entrance, for when the servers reached the floor, each of them spun, silver trays in hand. They spun again as one, crossing between each other. Then the individual servers each stopped before a table, bowed, and lowered their trays.

  “Dine, my friends,” the emperor said. “This is the Feast of Friends. Dine to your heart’s content.”

  The crowd did so.

  I could turn away from him now, meaning that his spell was finished. There was no sign of Corwin. I watched each of the servers, picking the ones the same size and shape as Megan, trying to discover her. But there were hundreds, and she would disguise her normal gait. The volume of conversation was low, as if they didn’t dare to speak too loud in front of the emperor.

  The door beneath me opened. I tensed my muscles, prepared to jump, and when I saw who had entered I did so, closing the door with the back of my heel.

  Chapter 22

  Pickles

  I put my hand over the woman’s mouth.

  “Megan,” I said. “It’s me.”

  She looked surprised and a little confused, and I wondered if she really was Megan. What if someone just looked like her mask? Plus, they all had the same silly bonnet on! I’d have to knock her out before she screamed.

  And then a smile split that not-quite-familiar face.

  “Carmen,” she said. “You stink.”

  “What? Still!” I said. “Listen, what happened to you?”

  “They made us stay in the servants’ quarters overnight — two to a bed. We had to scrub ourselves raw in the bathhouse, dress in impeccably white dresses, and then we practised our entrance a thousand thousand times. And now I’m supposed to get the pickles.”

  Pickles? Why was she telling me about pickles? “Did you learn anything we can use?”

  “The Immortals are within a few feet of the emperor at all times, and they also flock around Corwin. I saw both of them twice; in fact, the emperor himself instructed us on how to do our entrance. And … and there were whispers about him and about the White Tower.”

  “What sort of whispers?” I asked.

  “That once Sargon was given control of the Immortals, he would visit the tower every week and come out stronger.”

  “Stronger?” I asked. “What does that mean?”

  “That’s the same question I asked when the serving girl told me. But she’d been here for years and just kept repeating, ‘He’s stronger. Stronger than flesh.’ And she made the demon ward sign whenever Sargon passed.”

  “Magic,” I said. That explained his ability to cast a charm spell on the whole crowd. Perhaps a captured wizard had taught him.

  “Thord and I have added to our original plan,” I said. “Oh, and Brax.”

  “I’m glad he’s being helpful.” I didn’t ask whether she meant Thord or Brax. “What is it?”

  “It’s too long to explain. But there will be a diversion. When it happens, I want you to use this window to climb out to the roof. I’ll be waiting there for you.”

  “But how will I know exactly—”

  The door opened.

  I slipped behind it. “What are you doing in here, servant girl?” Corwin asked.

  “Just— just looking for the pickles.” Megan lowered her head and stayed in the shadow.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “My name is Elissa,” she muttered. He pushed the door so it was right against me.

  “Let me see you in the light.”

  She stepped into the light but didn’t look right at him.

  A second or two passed. If I’d had a sword, I could have run him through from here. I pictured what wo
uld be necessary to do if he attacked her. There was a broom in the corner that could become a weapon. Laughable compared to his sword, but perhaps it would be enough to startle him.

  My heart beat hard. Again. And again.

  “Get your pickles, Elissa,” Corwin said. “And return to serving our guests. This is an important evening.”

  “Yes, your lordship, I will.” And she reached for the pickles. Megan stepped out of the room without looking at me and closed the door behind her. I waited for several moments, expecting Corwin to burst in with his sword drawn. But at least thirty heartbeats passed with no sound.

  So I climbed up to my lookout point, where I saw that the meal was continuing. Corwin was already standing a few feet behind Sargon. He glared at the crowd as if daring them to strike a blow against his emperor.

  I climbed across to the outside window and looked out. No one was visible on the grounds below. So, very carefully, I climbed out the window, scaled the wall, and kept going until I reached the roof of the palace.

  Chapter 23

  A Good Catch

  I eventually came to one of the flat sections along the centre of the palace’s roof. There were no guards there, but the four guard towers looked directly down at me. Which was why I stood as still as possible and stared up at the heavens. The sky had cleared, though there were still wisps of clouds here and there. Even with my dragon eye, the stars didn’t look any closer. Nor could I spot movement up there. Did something happen to Thord?

  Then came a slight flash a great distance above me. I put out my hands as though I was catching rainfall.

  Almost too late I saw the brown bag plummeting from the sky. I caught it, even though it felt as though the weight of it would break my arms. I didn’t want it to clatter along the roof. I lowered it down.