C.P.D. Harris's Blog, page 63

The Shadow Wolf Sagas: Blade Breaker 1.17

Once again it is time for my weekly serial, starring Ragnar Grimfang.

New? start here.

Missed the last one? try this.

Lily Gemarkand, Sapphire’s estranged sister, lived in the enormous family estate located in Old Myrrhn, the tallest of the little islets that made of the city. Formidable by reputation, Lily had secured her position through a series of ruthless, often brutal actions that left her in control of the family businesses. Her exploits allegedly included having hired mercenaries kidnapping the children of several relatives, holding them hostage until power was given over to her. In recent years she had survived at least to assassination attempts that I had heard of. The Seven Families employed an army of bodyguards, enough to provided stability, even in a city-state where assassination is practically allowed by law.

Most people aren’t even allowed into Old Myrrhn. The Seven Families, or those who had recently made their fortunes, had to vouch for anyone who visited. It was somewhat similar to the Pink Pearl in that respect, only a different kind of prostitution took place there.

Fortunately I happened to know of someone who could get me past the watch.

<>

“I don’t owe you anything, Ragnar,” snarled Renoit, razor-thin mustache curling in emphasis. “In fact I distinctly remember telling you that I never wanted to be seen in public with you again.

Tall, whip thin, and well-groomed, I could almost mistake Renoit for a respectable gentleman. His silk coat alone was worth more than the entirely of the Creamy Gullet, the unfortunately named tavern that I found him in. His rapier, one of the swift, thin swords preferred by civilized gentlemen, was the only part of his attire that I recognized.

“I seem to recall that you needed my help escaping the wrath of Jarl Bregan,” I said. “Something about a duel to the death over a lost chalice.”

“Bah, I could have beaten him,” said Renoit. “I’m twice the swordsman you are. I simply wanted you to negotiate with your countryman so as to avoid bloodshed, you were the one who escalated the situation into a fight.”

“Renoit, the duel was with axes,” I said. “We both know you would have died.”

Renoit, leapt to his feet, quivering with outrage, hand on the hilt of his blade. I had to admit he was still fast, even after all these years.

“You dare insult my prowess?” he said loudly. Heads turned, though I thought it might be more due to Renoit’s vocabulary than his tone. “Sir, if I did not owe you my life, I would call you out. Now, you have vexed me and must take my leave of you before I forget myself.”

Renoit left without paying. I laid down a silver coin and followed him out into the night, grinning.

“Come now, Renoit,” I said. “Surely this is now way to treat an old friend who helped you out in your early life.”

“I made myself Ragnar,” said Renoit, walking away quickly. “I don’t owe anyone anything!”

“Fine, then,” I said, slowing down.

Renoit quickly distanced himself from me, walking purposefully. As a native of the city he knew the areas to avoid at night, mostly. I started to turn back to the Gullet, when I caught a flicker of movement from beyond Renoit. A dozen men, black-clad and armed with truncheons, knives, and other crude weapons emerged from the shadows of doorways and alleys, blocking my friend’s path.

Renoit’s Rapier flashed into his hand, but he was outnumbered. The thuggish group moved toward him slowly.

“Your money in my hand, or your blood on the street,” said a particularly large man with a mask like a grinning Daemon.

Renoit loved money and so he hesitated.

“NOW!” shout Daemon mask.

I chose that moment to arrive.

“Need some help, old friend?” I said, casually strolling toward the group.

“Ragnar! thank fortune you are here.” said Renoit. “These Ruffians want my coin!”

“No trouble, old friend,” I said. “We’ll soon show these fools that we are the better men.”

“There’s only two of you,” said Daemon mask. “And your friend here is is a walking payday.”

I shrugged. “Renoit here earned his money as a duelist on the west docks. And I –” My weapons dropped into my hands and I raised the, letting the lamplight glimmer off the metal. “– am Ragnar Grimfang, Twiceborn, exile from the North. I doubt these men will give us more pause than that band of Skrae off the Spear Queen’s island, eh Renoit?”

By now Renoit had recovered all of his swagger.

“Indeed,” said Renoit, flouring his blade, making it dance in the dark. “Shall paint an alley with their blood, old friend?”

I took a step toward the men. Renoit grinned and followed suit. Several of the would-be thieves turned and ran.

Daemon Mask looked around. His remaining men shifted. We advanced another step. Renoit was nearly in striking distance. Daemon Mask took a step back.

“Ok boys, let them pass,” he said, sounding scared.

“Not good enough,” I said. “You wasted good Renoit’s time. I think your coin will be required in recompense.”

“Just so,” said Renoit.

Daemon Mask made to protest, but I cuffed him with the haft of my axe.

“–Take it, take it,” he said, as I raised my weapon for another strike, holding out a modest coin pouch.

I accepted the pouch and handed it to Renoit. Despite the fact that it amounted to a pittance to him, Renoit’s eyes glimmered as if had received a diamond.

We let the thugs run. I walked with Renoit, back to the guarded bridge that led to Old Myrrhn. We talked of old times, adventures and women, mostly. When we arrived at the guarded gate, we clasped forearms, Nordan style, and parted ways.

Two days later I received the invitation I needed.

I made sure the “masked thieves” were well paid.

Teaser Tuesday

Since it is Tuesday, here is a teaser from my upcoming book, Warbound: The Shield Maiden

“Bastard!” snarled Sadira, desperately parrying Gavin’s war-spear as she backed away.

Gavin chuckled, pressing his advantage.

Gripping Karmal, Sadira felt a rush of anger as Gavin’s spear sank into her shoulder. The crowd roared at First blood. Spurred by her sword, Sadira loosed a piercing war-scream. The blazing blade arced down. Gavin turned, bringing his shield up. Karmal smashed into his shield, denting the nearly unbreakable metal and driving him to his knees. The crowd roared.

Grinning, Sadira followed up with a series of rapid, powerful blows, trying to pummel Gavin into the ground. Her elation was short lived, however, as Gavin recovered and knocked her blade to the side. Karmal plunged into the sand and Sadira felt Gavin’s Spear graze her throat.

“Are you ok?” asked Gavin as she backed off.

“I’m fine, just feeling a little reckless,” said Sadira, brushing off his concern. She reined in her fury and attacked again. This time, after a brutal exchange, Sadira faked an attack, forcing Gavin to over-commit and Karmal left a line of blood and blisters across his side.

The fought until the trumpets called. The crowd awarded Sadira the victory, leaving her wondering if she deserved it. Gavin just smiled. 

I just added this scene today, in response to an early reader who wanted a little more action and less exposition in the early chapters of the book. In this case I heartily agreed.

Another Teaser, how shocking.

After another evening of re-writes, I am too beat to write a coherent blog post. Instead, here is a teaser for my newest book, Warbound: The Shield Maiden.

“Death greets you, dog,” said Sadira, raising her sword.

She did not understand the sword-bearer’s answer, nor did she care. Sadira flowed into the Scorpion dance, seeking to over-whelm her enemy with off-angle strikes. She began with a diagonal uppercut, sword sweeping in low aiming to cut him from waist to shoulder. The Sword-Bearer knocked her blade away with his shield and thrust, aiming to puncture her throat. Sidestepping, Sadira brought Karmal down. The Vvathi, trusting to his size and strength raised his shield to catch the blow. It would have been a winning gambit in another fight, but the Sword-Bearer underestimated the Chosen’s supernatural power. Sadira screamed, putting all her power into the hit. Her foe crumpled under the unexpected force of the attack. She did not give him time to recover, kicking his shield aside and ramming Karmal through his breastplate. He gurgled and died.

Sadira kicked the body aside, deciding she did not have time to deal with the sword. She pushed into the excruciators line, cutting down two more Dwarves through their shields. Cassius let loose another spell while Razorthorn and Azure Dream drive into the lines. The Sword Bearers cut into the Phalanx, but Sadira began to fight her way toward them. The Vvathi lines began to buckle.  

In this new installment, we not only move beyond the Domains, we get to see how the Chosen and the Legions of Krass make war. Enjoy!

The Shadow Wolf Sagas: Blade Breaker 1.16

After a brutal week, it is time to delve into the world of Ragnar Grimfang once again. Written Raw and unedited. I hope you enjoy the escape as much as I do.

New? here is the very first blade breaker.

Missed last week’s? Here it is!

“So, Sildus, who wants you out of the way?” I asked the assassin, meeting his eyes.

“I’m not certain,” said ‘Sildus’, frowning. “The most likely answer is another assassin, who else could could manage to slip in after I left and then kill poor Harald and Sapphire? But I am not high enough in the Guild to attract that kind of hatred from my peers.”

“An assassin could be working as a proxy for someone else,” I said. “That’s not unusual…”

“But I did not see any contracts out for Harald or Sapphire,” said Sildus.

“Suppose the real killer’s plan was for you to take the blame?” I said, taking a swig from my glass. “Why would they take out a contract if the Guild’s wrath was meant for you.”

“So it must be an assassin,” said Sildus, face darkening. “Taking direct contracts is forbidden.”

“What are you, some kind of dark knight?” I said, smirking. “Killing people is also technically illegal, but that does not stop The Guild. For many of your brethren it is only a little step from betraying the laws of civil society to betraying the laws of the Guild. If they thought they were getting paid enough and would get away with it, then I’m sure someone would be able to hire them.”

“Isn’t that a little complicated?” said Sildus. “The simplest answer is usually the best, one in my experience.”

“And yet, here I am, allowing myself to be persuaded that the most likely suspect is not the killer,” I said.

Sildus winced, realizing his mistake.

“This is a human affair,” I continued. “And some minds prefer to hide behind a veil of complexity so that they are invisible to the lazy and the simple.”

“That makes a kind of sense,” said Sildus.

“So, now that we have widened the list, who wants you, or your lovers, dead?” I asked. “It would have to be someone wealthy I suspect. Skilled assassins are rather expensive.”

“When I found out who did it…” said Sildus, voice cold. Anger poured from him ,the first real emotion I could sense.

“Vengeance can wait,” I said. “After all, if someone is clever enough to manipulate the situation this much, then it would not be much more of an effort to point you in the wrong direction, just in case. It is best to be certain of our target before we make them pay the blood price. Now, who are your enemies? and who disliked Sapphire? is there any chance of another jealous suitor?”

“Suitors? not likely,” Said Sildus. “Sapphire disengaged with any men who she did not favour, but she did it gently. She understood the obsessions of our sex, and arranged for another girl to entangle anyone who she did not want to keep. She could afford to be choosy.”

“You must be honoured,” I said, unable to keep my teeth together.

Sildus glared at me, but nodded after a moment. “In a way, I was. She was an amazing woman. You think of her as just a whore, no doubt, but she was witty, funny, so full of life–”

“I apologize,” I said, holding up my hand. “I have often paid the price for being too glib. Who else might wish you or Sapphire harm?”

“Are you sure it wasn’t someone after Harry–Harald?” asked Sildus.

“The boy doesn’t know Myrrhn well enough to have that kind of enemies,” I said. “His kin blame you, because they can’t think of anyone else. If Harald had an enemy among my people they would know about it. We tend to be more direct in dealing with our problems in the North.”

“That doesn’t seem to hold true for yourself, Ragnar,” said Sildus. “The city must be rubbing off on you.”

I chuckled at that. A fine jest.

“Well, Sapphire’s sister has always had it in for her,” said Sildus. “Sapphire is actually from one of the Seven Families. Her Father kicked her out after he found out that she had taken up with a gardener’s boy. Her sister inherited, and hated Sapphire on principle.”

The Seven Families were the oldest and richest families among the Merchant classes of Myrrhn. Whiles their power waxed and waned, often eclipsed by more ambitious merchants, the Families were well served by their ties. In truth they were more like clans, extended kinship groups that formed a close-knit power structure. They definitely had motive and means, but I could not see why they just wouldn’t take out a regular contract.

“I will delve into that connection,” I said. “What about you, would anyone want to seek vengeance against you.”

“I’m sure they would if they knew about me,” said Sildus. “But I make sure to cover my tracks.”

I nodded. Braggarts were rare among the guild.

“Does your master have any enemies?” I asked. “Competitors within the guild who might want to taint his name by making you seem like a failure?”

Sildus paused, brow knitting. “You know, that makes sense. My master now holds a high position within the guild. I will have to find some way of asking him.”

“Meanwhile I will sniff around Sapphire’s sister,” I said.

We drank a little more, then I let Sildus out the back door. I spent the rest of the evening trying to figure out how to protect the house against a repeat of such an intrusion.

 

Teaser Tuesday

It is Tuesday again, time for another teaser from Warbound: The Shield Maiden, which will be out as an e-book on July 17th.

Riritaka’s thoughts often turned to the Gladiator known as Lionfang. The mercy he had shown her ensured that she lived, seeking her freedom in the arena. She was too weak to win often, especially without access to powerful spirits to bind, but she cared little for her record as a Gladiatrix. It was enough for her simply to live, for now.

Life among her people was a distant memory as were the endless interrogations by the Grey-Robes. No longer considered a Heretic, she was as free to travel as any Gladiatrix. She had visited the great cities of the Empire; seen her first snowfall; walked in the bamboo gardens of the Far Isles; fought a Wirn to the death in the Grand Arena in front of more people than she’d imagined could fit in one place. They had cheered her on that day. It was a precious memory, even if it felt like a betrayal of old hates.

The Spirit-Binder often wondered if she was a coward for choosing life over honour, but it was now a philosophical question, no longer a gaping wound that brought sleepless nights and bitter regret. She had chosen life, and that was what she did. She lived.

Determining which characters to bring back in the the Domains of the Chosen book is not always easy for me. Gavin, Sadira, and Vintia were a given, but filling on other positions required some thought. Riritaka is a character from Bloodlust: Will to Power, a heretic from the People called The Pale, who Gavin fights for one of his ranking matches, refusing to kill her on principle.

I decided to include her because Warbound: The Shield Maiden is about moving beyond the borders of the Domains, and so she seemed like a natural fit. Her perspective on the Domains is that of an outsider, and so she can act as kind of a control perspective.

Sunday Teaser: *kith and [Click]kith, Hooah and Avey

Fresh from a busy Sunday of re-writes, here is a teaser from Warbound: The Shield-Maiden.

“We could march back to the Domains,” said Auria.

“How is that possible?” said Teven sharply. “Is the ocean not in our way?”

“There is an Old Dwarven stronghold called Khazak-Krim,” said Auria. “The under-roads that run from it lead across the sea to Sudra, once on Sudra we could march back to the fortress at Sudra’s horn or even cross the archipelago and march up to the Trials.”

“A ancient dwarf fortress?” said Teven indignantly. “Old passages through the under-roads. We all know how that sort of journey turns out in books.”

“Enough Teven,” said the Legate evenly. “We should examine every possibility. It is possible that we will have to make our way home. The march is not our first choice; but we should study every eventuality and plan for every contingency that we can. Auria, draw up those maps so I can study them. I want to know everything relevant about the surrounding terrain and peoples as well. It seems likely that we will have to move and dig in on more favourable terrain. Warbound Legarda stay, everyone else you have your orders. Dismissed.”

“Avey, Legate,” came the chorus of voices.

A few decisions have been made in the wake of comments from early readers and editors.

I was originally using Ave as a form of emphasis, like the modern marine’s use of Hooah. This form of salutation carries connotations that I don’t want to invoke, so I changed it to Avey, which I can own.

Secondly the use of * to indicate a clicking sound, and ! for popping sounds was too confusing so I am now trying [Click] and pop instead. Honestly [Click]kith does look better than *kith.

The Shadow Wolf Sagas: Blade Breaker 1.15

Once again, it is time for my weekly serial, featuring Ragnar Grimfang, Nordan Twiceborn.

Start at the beginning.

Last Week’s Post.

The wise thing to do would be to keep my secrets and let the man think I was helpless. Alas, I gave in to pride and acted, reasoning that if he was mad or a trickster then I could save myself some hunting.

A low growl, rumbled in the shadows behind us. The assassin stiffened and I made my move.

The assassin was fast. It is a vital trait in his chosen profession. Still, even with the element of surprise on my side he managed to cut my throat as I moved. Turning my head prevented the cut from being truly bothersome, but only by a hair’s breadth.

My original plan was to reach over my shoulder, grab him, and throw him to the ground. When my grasp closed on nothing, I rolled forward, grabbing my axe coming up facing the room. A knife flew through the dark, grazing my ear. I snarled and threw myself forward, holding up the axe to ward off any blows. The assassin did not shy away from me, despite the disparity in out bulk. A swift kick to my knee, hard and painful, was followed by a stab to the heard as I staggered back. A swatted it away with my axe, aiming my fist at his head as I hooked the blade with the back spike, pulling him toward me. Rather than resist, the assassin cannily shifted his momentum, using my strength to launch himself out of reach. He whirled, throwing another small blade at me. It took me in shoulder, close to my neck.

The shadows growled again. Using the moment of distraction that his afforded, I swung at him. Swift and sure, he parried with his dagger. This is what I wanted, however, and I twisted the axe, ripping the dagger from his grasp. A strong kick knocked me away before I could close to grapple, bloodying my nose. Anger spurred me, and I had to take hold of it, lest I attack blindly.

I did not make a move to attack him immediately, this time. He hesitated, keeping on the defensive while he tried, in vain, to locate the sound of the growling. Graceful and cautious, I realized that I would not be able to put him down without causing permanent injury. So I lowered my guard.

“Care for a drink?” I asked. “I suspect the twins will be down in thirty seconds. It will be easier to explain your presence if we are armed with glass instead of steel.”

While I talked, I made a move to the side table, taking a bottle of twenty year Lathulin fire mead, and gently placing it on the table. The assassin made no move to attack, but kept his defensive pose. I sat down.

“You won’t find what you are looking for,” I said, pouring some of the amber liquid into two glasses. “It was just an auditory illusion, not a real wolf in the shadows. You wanted my help, now let’s talk.”

“Why did you attack me” he asked. “Wouldn’t it have been better to disguise your strength, in case I turned against you later?

“Appear weak when you are strong?” I said. “Well, if we are to be allies, I wanted you to have an idea of my power.”

He accepted my explanation gracefully.

“The poison?” he asked.

“I bought a countervial antidote,” I said. “Just in case.”

“Ah, my fault for not switching types,” he said, relaxing. “I doubted the efficacy of other poisons on you, Twiceborn.”

“Wise enough,” I said.

“Ragnar?” came a voice from the other room.

At this point the twins arrived. They were alert, with Vethra carrying an ornate crossbow and Leera wielding an elegant rapier. The looked ferocious and beautiful in the shadows, and I smiled. The assassin, who had somehow removed his hood, grabbed the glass, and situated himself on a chair, looked perfectly at ease.

“Sorry, girls,” I said. “Our conversation must have become a little heated. You know old battle stories. This is–”

“Sildus Merlando,” injected the assassin, smoothly assuming what must be one of his false identities. I made a mental note to check the name at the Pearl, just in case.

The twins smiled and greeted the assassin. His entire posture seemed relaxed now, conveying a sense of tipsy foolishness. The one flaw with his act was that he did not display any attraction to the twins. Most men would have trouble putting away their leers.

“By the Queen of Shadows, Ragnar,” said Vethra, relaxing. “We have clients coming tomorrow. Be quieter.”

“Yes, love,” added Leera. “We thought you were fighting down here.”

I did my best to look sheepish and guilty; it wasn’t terribly difficult. In truth, I disliked having brought this business to our home. Tis a bad leader that endangers his pack.

After excusing themselves and glaring at me, the twins returned to their lair. I would be sleeping by myself this evening.

“Charming girls,” said Sildus.

“You have no idea,” I said, grinning. “Now, where were we?”

“I am not Sapphire’s killer,” said Sildus. Sandy golden hair framed a lean, angular face with bright green eyes. Sapphire and emerald. No one expects a blonde assassin. “I want to help you find the killer, or at least get you to leave me alone while I do so.”

“Why should I believe you?” I asked.

“Because I didn’t kill you,” said Sildus. “Also, I loved Sapphire, I would never have hurt her.”

“Perhaps that love drove you to murder her when she took up with Harald,” I said. “Love can turn any man into a fool, even an Assassin.”

“It is true that Sapphire loved Harald,” said Sildus. “But I was far from jealous. You see the three of us all loved each other. I can show you something that will convince you of this later, something that Harald gave us. On the night they were killed, I left our dalliance early to finish a job.”

His tale rang true. I still needed further proof, but if he was lying he had no reason to let me live, at least none that I could fathom. Either way, I was curious.

“So, Sildus, who wants you out of the way?” I asked.

Teaser Tuesday

 

It is now Tuesday, and time for another teaser from my upcoming book, Warbound: The Shield Maiden.

Vintia came across a dead Legionnaire, the sight filling her with dread and pity. The Orcish man’s feet and hands were trapped in the coral floor, as if it had become mud or quicksand and then hardened again. Ragged wounds on his wrists indicated how hard the man had struggled to free himself. His throat was open, head lolling to the side. It was a clean cut, made from behind, execution style. The blood should have pooled on the floor, but the only sign of it was a darker spot on the reddish stone that seemed to grow smaller as she stared.  Vintia realized with disgust that the Spire was drinking it.

Anger and fear boiled out of The Warbound. Fire scorched the coral, as Vintia blasted it with spells until she was left exhausted and dripping with sweat. The coral showed depressingly little signs of harm. It was worse than trying to burn stone. She could melt it with stupendous effort, but that was a pointless task. She needed to keep moving, not waste her strength on useless gestures.

The dead legionnaire’s Gladius, a good legion sidearm, had been kicked into the corner. Vintia was glad to see blood on it. She took this, happy to have a weapon, and also grabbed the man’s file tags. He was a veteran; one of the Legate’s bodyguards. She hoped that Nerus and the rest of his men had met a better fate, even that slut, Teven.

Before she left she burned the dead veteran to ash with a spell, silently commending him to the ancestors.

The people of the Domains worship the ancestors, who have taken on a stature and function similar to Saints.

The Gladius is not the main weapon of a Krassian Legionnaire, it is actually a short spear, hence why I refer to it as a sidearm.

In this passage we read about Vintia discovering some of the more unusual aspects of the Kirifan Spires, enormous buildings grown from a kind of warped coral. I wanted Kirif, and the rest of Ithal’Duin,  to seem very different from the Domains. I hope the readers like it.

 

A Teaser for Mother’s Day

For Mother’s Day, here is a teaser from my new work in progress, Warbound: The Shield Maiden.

“I agree with that,” said Gavin. “I saw it with Valaran. His idea of love could not encapsulate Sadira desiring me over him. When she rebuffed him, he did not re-examine his view of romance. Instead he kept pressing her. When that failed he tried to destroy me, blaming me for somehow standing in the way. He said I corrupted. Eventually that led to his downfall.”

“Indeed,” said Chosen Mazurin. “It is a form of mental laziness, I think. This is especially true of rulers, who are often insulated from the consequences of their decisions. A king who shuts down a hospice to fund his war is rarely the first to suffer when disease breaks out. If one never has to confront the failure of the idea directly it is easier for ideology to remain unchallenged. It is the same with the Gift. As Chosen we are so powerful that we are rarely forced to fix the flaws in our spell-craft.”

“So by teaching me to always seek a more refined solution in all things magical,” said Gavin. “You hope that I apply the same to learning governance?”

“Yes,” said the Chosen. “Methodology exceeds ideology.”

After joining the Chosen, Gavin is placed under the mentorship of Chosen Mazurin. Astute readers will recognize this character from quotes in Bloodlust: A Gladiator’s Tale and Bloodlust: Will to Power. The idea is that being a Chosen entails a great deal of responsibility and that Gladiators, who lead an insular life in the modern Domains require a period of adjustment, both to their increased magical power, and to the outside world.

The Shadow Wolf Sagas: Blade Breaker 1.14

Follow the adventures of Ragnar Grimfang, Twiceborn and Nordan Exile, as he tracks down a murderer in the shadowy city of Myrrhn.

New to Blade Breaker? Start here.

Missed last week’s installment? Here it is.

The assassin was in the room with me. It took every ounce of control for me not to leap up and cast about.

The hour was late, and the house was quiet, there was no sound save the gentle breathing of two women upstairs, and yet I knew that I was not alone. There was an unfamiliar smell, or rather the absence of a smell, in the house. Those who become adept at sneaking quickly learn to mask their scent in a variety of ways, mostly to avoid guard animals. This one had chosen Prosopian oil, which actually masked all scents. The problem was that my sense of smell was acute enough to detect the void, that lack of scent, so to speak. I looked, using the mirrors, and listened, but heard nothing. I was certain that it was not just my imagination playing trickster.

The assassin was good, too good to be the journey-woman and her partner that had attacked me outside Git’s shop. This had to be the man who had killed Sapphire.

I reached for my axe. Old habits dictate that it is almost always at hand. My fingers touched the haft. There was the faintest sound from behind me, followed by a prick on the neck, too swift for me to avoid. Poison coursed through my veins. The very same kind that had been used on Sapphire. I stiffened.

I sat unmoving, locked in place, for a hundred heartbeats before I heard a shuffle from behind me. Unfolding like a spider, the assassin dropped from the ceiling, his feet barely making a sound on the wood despite the drop. I snarled wordlessly.

The assassin was in no hurry as he crossed the floor, footfalls barely audible, even to me. He laid his blade at my throat, cold steel biting. Oh how I wished I could move, but breathing rapidly and rolling my eyes was all that a poison of this type would allow. I could not help but wondering how helpless  Harald and Sapphire must have felt as they died.

“Know, Northman,” he whispered in my ear. “That I have you at my mercy.”

I almost laughed at that.

“You and I have something to discuss,” his words were carefully spoken, precisely enunciated despite the lowering of his voice. His tone was lightly conversational. “You have been hunting me. You think I murdered my beloved Sapphire because of that pig Harald. Ask yourself, if I had trouble with her sharing her favours with others, would I have fallen for a whore?”

I did not answer; I couldn’t. He did have a point, however: I had simply assumed that Sapphire had spurned the assassin in favour of Harald, triggering his vengeance. It was a common enough story…

“No,” he said. “I did not kill her, at least not directly.”

He paused. The blade tapped against my neck, no longer held so tightly.

“Someone wants me dead,” he whispered. “The Guild does not abide this kind of mess. If I take the blame they will hunt me down.”

Another assassin. Now that was an interesting possibility. The internal machinations of The Nightblades are quite opaque. There were rumours, of course: fights to the death, dangerous trials, that sort of thing. We knew assassins killed each other over position within the guild, but not the circumstances, rules, or even frequency. They were very good at keeping their secrets. I wondered if he was playing me. If so, what was the game, why not just cut my throat?

“You must be wondering what I want with you by now,” he said. “The answer is simple. I want you to find her killer. I want to preserve my status in The Guild, keep my life, and end the person who killed Sapphire. I’m sure you understand. I want you to do what you were hired to do.”

I had more than a few questions. I also wanted proof that he was telling the truth. Did he have someone who could vouch for him, even an alibi? By Skygge!, I was eager to hear the truth from him.

First, I had to show him where he stood.

There is a reason that they call us The Shadow Wolves.