Weapon of Blood by Chris A. Jackson

play along.  He’s paid
half up front, the other half to be transferred in one month if the two of them
are still alive.”  He handed the letter and the draft to Kiesha.
    Her lovely eyes flicked over the note. 
“Baron Patino?”
    “Nobody I’m familiar with, but there must be some connection to the Assassins Guild.  Make it a priority to find out exactly
who this person is.  And write up a response indicating that we accept the
contract.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Anything else?” Hensen snatched another
scone and began the meticulous buttering process.  Life was too fleeting to be
wasted worrying about one’s waistline, and this game had stimulated his
appetite.  He loved a challenge.  It was what made him such a successful thief.
    “Nothing pressing, sir.”
    “Good.  Keep this contract on a
need-to-know basis, my dear.  Use our best people.  Master Hunter Mya is
no fool, and neither is her bodyguard, from what Sereth says.  If either of
them detects our interference, there could be repercussions.”
    “Of course, sir.”
    “Go on then, Kiesha, and do be careful
out there.”
    “I always am, sir.”  She gave him a
stunning smile and turned to go.
    Hensen admired her beauty once more
before the door closed behind her.  After dabbing marmalade on his scone and
pouring more tea, he sat back, intent on savoring the rest of his breakfast.
    Yes, life is far too fleeting …

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter
VII
     
     
     
    C aptain
Norwood’s stomach growled as Tamir and Woefler entered his office.  He’d worked through lunchtime, and the two men brought
scents of roast lamb, garlic and sautéed onions in with them.  He rose from his
desk to stretch the kinks out of his backside.  He had not been able to escape
his chair all morning, and looked forward to hearing about what they had
discovered at Vonlith’s.
    The men were a mismatched duo if ever he
saw one.  Tamir stood tall and beefy, as were most of the Royal Guards,
taciturn of face and smartly uniformed.  The sergeant towered over the wizard,
who darted about like a little dog exploring every new scent.  For an important
member of the Duke’s court, Woefler was decidedly unassuming.  His robes were well-made, but unadorned, his rings and
amulets simple.  His clean-shaven face didn’t strike Norwood as particularly
venerable or wise, but he’d been with the duke for even longer than the
captain, and his proficiency was renowned.  Unfortunately, Woefler also fancied
himself a sleuth.  His near-frantic enthusiasm grated against Tamir’s stoic,
methodical approach.  But as much as Tamir might dislike the notion, the death
of a wizard warranted Woefler’s aid.
    “Master Woefler, good to see you.  I wish
it was under different circumstances.”  He waved them to chairs, though he
continued to stand, shifting from one foot to the other in a slow rocking
motion to ease the pain in his back.
    “Captain Norwood.”  The court wizard
nodded and grinned, his angular face flushed with pleasure, unusual for the
circumstance of a murder investigation, but not for the odd little man.  “Good
to see you as well, though we do only seem to reacquaint ourselves over dead
bodies.”
    “We do at that.”  Norwood noted a sour
expression on Tamir’s face at the wizard’s greeting.  He had probably been
listening to Woefler yammer on about the magical whatnots in Vonlith’s home all
morning.  Stifling a grin, he waited until his visitors were seated, then got
right to business.  “What news of Master Vonlith?  Tam, you first.”
    “It’s probably a safe bet that the victim
knew his killer.  Though all the windows and the front door were locked, the—”
    “The locks on the doors and windows were
reinforced with magic, Captain,” Woefler cut in.  “If one were to pick one of
the locks or try to force it open, an alarm would sound and the entire house
would be sealed by a spell.  All of these spells were intact when I