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garb no longer standing at the edge of the crowd. It is better if there’s a lot of running and screaming.

      ‘No, killing a man is fairly easy. It is killing him and not getting caught that makes it difficult.’

      ‘So, assuming the prince appears tonight, how would you kill him?’

      ‘Magnificence, I would never undertake such a contract. Killing rich merchants and even the minor nobility is one thing – there is a chance of retribution, but not a large one. Sooner or later the sons inherit their father’s estates and whatever is being paid to the local constabulary to hunt down the murderer is seen as an unnecessary expense; after all, it will not bring back their departed, no matter how beloved and missed.’

      ‘You are a cynical bastard, Amafi. Did anyone ever tell you that?’

      ‘More than once, Magnificence, but then, consider my trade.’ He smiled and shrugged. ‘No, to kill royals you’d have to employ fanatics. Those willing to give up their lives to see a son of the imperial house dead. A professional would never undertake such a contract.’

      ‘What about the Nighthawks?’

      Amafi took Tal by the elbow and steered him to the farthest corner of the garden. ‘Among my calling, they are legendary. Being legends, there are equal measures of truth and myth to their story.’

      ‘Go on.’

      ‘It is believed that they were once a family, a large family of men and women who took the occupation of killing to a higher level, making it an art form. For generations they plied their trade quietly and without notice, save by those in need of such skills. Then, a hundred years ago something happened to them, they became a cult and their numbers multiplied. Then they were nearly obliterated by the soldiers of the Kingdom.

      ‘Since then, there have been rumours of their return.’

      ‘More than rumours,’ said Tal. He glanced around. ‘Find us a fast way out of here.’

      Amafi nodded and Tal returned to the game. He played indifferently for another hour, waiting for some sign that royalty had arrived. He estimated it was roughly three hours past sunset and that by now anyone setting out for a night in the city would be arriving at their destination. Tal picked up his winnings and went looking for his servant.

      Amafi stood quietly by a column on the left side of the room, just in front of the broad steps which led down into the garden. When Tal reached him, Amafi said, ‘It is done. I have discovered two possible exits that do not require using the front door.

      ‘The first is a rope ladder used by the gardeners to assist in the trimming of the border-hedges surrounding the garden. It is long enough to reach the rooftop of the villa directly below; on the other side of the garden lies a rocky path – it is steép, but it can be used to descend the hillside to a place where one may jump to a road below without fear of injury. Either would suffice as a quick departure.’

      ‘You did well.’

      ‘I serve at your whim, Magnificence.’

      Tal resisted the temptation to point out that Amafi had also tried to kill him on at least two previous occasions when it had suited him, and said, ‘Now, tell me, again. If you were to ambush a prince of the royal house of Kesh, how would you do it from here?’

      ‘I would not,’ said Amafi. ‘I would pick my spot and ensure someone brought him to me.’

      ‘That would require an agent inside the royal party.’

      Amafi shrugged. ‘And that is not possible?’

      Tal considered. ‘Very possible.’ He stood lost in thought for a while. Then he said, ‘But if a royal prince doesn’t appear tonight, it’s our information that’s at fault, and this has been a pointless exercise.

      ‘We wait for another hour, and if no one has arrived, we shall return to our quarters.’

      ‘Yes, Magnificence,’ Amafi replied with an inclination of his head. ‘You will return to the cards?’

      ‘No,’ said Tal. ‘I’m not in the mood. I think I’ll stroll the floor for a while and see who’s come in since I left the table.’

      Amafi took up an unobtrusive position near the closest escape route, and Tal walked the floor.

      As gambling halls went, this was the largest and most opulent he had encountered, but it was also odd by his standards. Every gambling house in the Kingdom of the Isles, Roldem, Olasko and elsewhere in the north was choked with gaming tables to maximize the earnings of the entrepreneur, but here large stretches of the hall had been given over to piles of cushions strewn around low tables where the wealthy and noble relaxed, held conversations, or indulged in other vices. In one darker corner several young Trueblood men lounged, passing around a long pipe, and from the sickly-sweet aroma, Tal knew it wasn’t an exotic cut of tabac they were smoking.

      Some extraordinarily attractive young women had appeared, and several smiled invitingly at Tal as they strolled by. Gambling, drugs, whores and drink, Tal thought. One would never have to leave this place, it could satisfy any appetite.

      An hour passed, while Tal played a few more hands. Then he rose, pocketed his modest winnings and found Amafi. ‘No one is coming,’ he said to the former assassin.

      Amafi said, ‘That is strange, Magnificence. But it is not unusual for nobility – especially royalty – to change their mind.’

      ‘I don’t think so. I think we had bad information,’ said Tal.

      ‘To what end?’

      ‘I don’t know, but tell me – what has changed in the room since we last spoke?’

      Amafi may have been advancing in years, but his skill was not dulled. ‘A man sits alone near the foot of the stairs as if he is lost in thought while he drinks, but he has not refilled his cup in the past hour.

      ‘Two courtesans meander through the hall, yet twice I’ve seen them rebuff men of means who have sought their companionship. ’ He looked at the second exit on the other side of the room. ‘And someone also bars the way should anyone choose to leave by the narrow path at the back.’

      ‘And if anyone suspected you had deployed the gardeners’ rope ladder, there would be someone guarding that, I think.’

      ‘It’s a trap?’

      ‘I think so,’ said Tal.

      ‘For us?’

      ‘It would be foolish not to assume so.’

      ‘So the rumour of the prince’s attendance and the possible attempt on his life was just bait?’

      Tal nodded. ‘So, if I’m the target, and not the prince, what would you do?’

      Amafi looked around, assessing the room with new eyes. ‘A direct attack in public is out of the question, Magnificence. Also, no one would be foolish enough to challenge a Champion of the Masters’ Court in Roldem with a blade. Should I send three swordsmen, you would likely prevail, unless they were very, very good.

      ‘But I would not want three others knowing who I intended to kill … unless those three others were family.’

      ‘Nighthawks.’

      Amafi nodded. He watched the two young women and said, ‘I suspect those two are not Nighthawks. I would simply employ them to lure you upstairs to a quiet room where a dagger waited for you behind a curtain. Or I would persuade them to keep you here until someone else arrived.’ He shrugged. ‘As to the manner of your demise, my preferred approach would be to wait outside the front door, concealed in shadow, and take my chance at striking from behind before you can draw your fabled sword.’

      Tal smiled. ‘If memory serves, that’s how we met.’

      ‘I was not attempting to kill you, Magnificence, only to join your service. Had I wanted you dead, I think I might have been able to be

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