In truth, Kylar had barely thought about it. “I’m going to kill him,” he said. And it was the truth. Hu Gibbet was the kind of twist who started killing beggars when he had to go too long between jobs. He needed murder like a drunkard needs wine. If Kylar came and stole the silver ka’kari first, Hu Gibbet would come after him. Hu was a full wetboy, and reputed to be as strong of a fighter as Durzo. Kylar’s only chance to kill him would be to catch him off-guard. Tonight.

Elene still didn’t look at him. “If you’re a wetboy, you’ve got other ways to get in. You must know forgers. Kylar Stern must have contacts. Maybe an invitation from me would be the easiest way in, but that’s not why you came. You came here to case the place, didn’t you?”

His silence was answer enough.

“All these years,” Elene said, turning her back, “I thought Azoth was dead. And maybe he is. Maybe I helped kill him. I’m sorry, Kylar. I’d give my life to help you. But I can’t give you what’s not mine to give. My loyalty, my honor, belongs to the God. I can’t betray my lady’s trust.I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

It was a gentler banishment than he deserved, but banishment all the same. Kylar hunched and curled his fingers into arthritic claws and left. He turned once he reached the gate, but Elene wasn’t even watching him go.

Chapter 37

37

L ike all good ambushes, this one came at a time and place where they least expected it. Solon and Regnus and his men had made it down the mountains, over the central plains, and had come within two miles of Cenaria’s sprawling northern edge.

Duke Gyre and his men were between two wide rice paddies on the raised road when they came upon a man leading a cart horse. Several peasants were working in the paddies, but they were dressed simply, trouser legs rolled up to their knees, obviously devoid of armor or weapons. The carter pulled his old horse to the side, looking at the men in armor intently.

Solon should have noticed it earlier, of course. Peasants didn’t wear long sleeves in the paddies. But it wasn’t until he was within twenty paces of the carter that he saw it. The Vürdmeister dropped the horse’s reins and brought his wrists together, green fire roaring down his vir and filling each hand. He clapped his wrists together and wytchfire spurted forward.