Suddenly, Karna saw more shadows take shape around him. The woman’s scream had alerted his hunters to his position and Karna had been too distracted by his wounds to move. The killers converged. A refined voice reached him from the balcony of one of the abandoned houses. ‘Settle down, Highmaster. It’s over.’

Karna surveyed the assassins. Ten. Their gait reflected their training. In his poisoned, exhausted state, he could probably take down more than half of them before he went down himself. That was assuming there weren’t more lurking in the darkness. His thoughts drifted to his nephew, Sudama No. He could not go down. He had vowed to look after the boy. It was a vow he was not going to break. But poisons cared not for the promises of men. Buy time. Karna sank against the wall behind him, close to where the voice, perhaps belonging to the leader of the assassins, had come from.

‘You fight rather well for a boy,’ the voice said again. It was soft, cultured. ‘You cost me five stringers and a lover. Pity. We could’ve used you. We have an affinity towards skilled social rejects.’

‘I left three alive,’ Karna panted.

‘Rest assured we won’t make the same mistake.’

Karna looked up. The underside of the wooden balcony from where the voice emerged was now directly overhead, the height of two men above the ground. A good jump would have allowed him to reach a strut, but even if he managed to grab hold of it, it would leave him wide open to the approaching assassins. Impractical. ‘Who sent you?’ he asked, taking deep breaths.

‘Some men who were angered by the rapid strides you have been making in royal circles. Haven’t you heard? Best to keep a low profile in life lest the Gods take note of you.’

Karna’s eyes scanned the shadows. There were three by the cart on the left, two on the right, four coming straight at him, one above him, all of them closing in. His right leg was sticky with blood from his thigh wound. His armpit hurt. His crossbow was empty. He was running out of options.

‘You sent the woman to kill Mardin. And now you want to make it look like I was murdered by a mob for killing the Highmaster?’

There was a laugh. ‘You give us more credit than we deserve, Resht,’ the voice said. ‘While that would have been a brilliant move, we were waiting for you at Diamond Harbour till we heard news you had taken a detour. Fortunately, horses run faster than they swim. We set up a grand welcome for you here instead. But we had nothing to do with the murder of Prakar Mardin. We never take life for free. It is the one rule we have. And rules are important don’t you think? Now that I have answered your question, answer mine. Head or throat?’