“But the Sa’kagé will survive,” Kylar said. Not that he gave a damn about them. He was thinking about the Drakes and Logan. The Khalidorans would kill them.

“The Sa’kagé will survive, Kylar, but if all the businesses are burned down, there’s no money to extort. If all the merchants are broke, they can’t gamble or go whoring. Some wars we could profit from. This one will ruin us.”

“So why tell me?”

“Durzo’s in the middle of it.”

“Of course he is,” Kylar said. “Probably half the nobles in the army’s chain of command are trying to off their superiors so they can take their places. But Master Blint wouldn’t take a job that would seriously endanger the city. Not if things are as bad as you say.”

Jarl shook his head. “I think he’s working for the king.”

“Master Blint would never work for the king,” Kylar said.

“He would if they had his daughter.”

“His what?”

Chapter 32

32

L ord General Agon stood in the middle of the brushed white gravel of the castle’s statue garden and tried not to look as uneasy as he felt. Damn fine place to meet an assassin.

Ordinarily, he would think it was fine place to meet an assassin. Though Blint had ordered him not to bring soldiers, if he had been of a mind to do so, there were any number of places for them to hide. Of course, that this meeting was happening within the castle grounds should also have made Agon feel better. It might have, if Blint hadn’t been the one who suggested it.

The night wind blew a cloud across the moon and Agon strained to hear the slight crunch of gravel that would herald Blint’s arrival. He had no doubt that Blint could make it into the castle. His memory was as sharp as the daggers that they’d once found under the royal pillows. Still, he had his orders.

He looked at the statues around him. They were heroes, every one of them, and he wondered what he was doing in their company. Usually this garden was a haven. He would walk on the serene white and black rock and stare at these marble heroes, wondering how they might act if they were in his shoes. Tonight, their shadows loomed and lingered. Of course it was his imagination, but he still remembered that Blint had been in his bedroom ten years ago, ready to do murder. Nothing was safe with a man like that.

There was the slightest crunch of gravel under one of the statues. Agon turned and without thinking gripped his sword.

“Don’t bother,” Durzo Blint said.

Agon whipped back around. Durzo was standing not two feet away. Agon stepped back.

“The noisy one was one of yours. Not me.” Blint smiled wolfishly. “But wait, didn’t I tell you not to bring men?”

“I didn’t,” Agon said.

“Mm-hmm.”