 Previous |
 Main |
Next  |
Ornoth and the Assassin continue to pore over the many scrolls and documents, it appears that there is a small network involved in this conspiracy, but it covers every city on Gor. Many highly respected persons are named as well as those with more shadowed reputations. They ignite oil-filled tapers to cast a yellowed light from the table lamps, it is full dark outside, the night breeze has picked up and there is a hint of damp in the air. perle serves bread and fruit, together with chilled ka-la-na and larma juice. She trembles still at the sight of the killer, but is pleased to see her Master so animated and alive. She bows her head and backs out from the room. Into the servery, she hums a tune softly to herself as she prepares her Master's medicine.. she stops and listens, thinking she felt a slight breeze, heard a soft scraping sound. She hears nothing more and returns to her task. Again, she pauses, leaning her head to one side as she concentrates, perhaps the urts in the wall spaces....nothing unusual. She reaches for the stick of powders to add to the water, swirls the potion, before stirring with a small sugar-stick to lessen the bitterness of the drink. She lifts the cup to her heart and leaves the servery returning to the solar. Turning into the passage from the kitchen area to the living spaces, she does not hear the slither of soft-soled boots. The recognition of the gloved-hand across her mouth is preceded only by the sharp punch against her back, below the left shoulder, the reflex to cry out fails as the stiletto dagger finds and penetrates her heart. The cup falls from her lifeless hands, it shatters on the cold stone floor, spilling the still effervescent liquid over the blooded flagstones. As she falls the torq is ripped from her arm, skin caught in the silver filigree and torn as her body crumples to the wall, eyes open, staring in stunned surprise. The solar door is flung open, the Assassin closely followed by Ornoth, rushes down the passage, he stops and looks down upon the slave. He bends his head in some sorrow but notes the expert placement of the killing stroke.. he thinks to himself...."Not by my hand as I promised, but merciful and swift at least". He hears Ornoth's strangled sob and watches as the poet falls to his knees, lifting the girl's head to cradle it in his arms, his head bowed over her face. The man rocks from side to side like a mother with a fractious baby, making soft sounds...... which change suddenly into a howl of total desolation. The Assassin walks behind Ornoth, he pats him on the shoulder with his left hand. The poet turns slightly to the left and knows only instant oblivion as the slim metal spike in the Assassin's right penetrates the base of his skull, slamming deep into his brain. The poet's head falls forward, his cheek resting against perle's...... the Assassin smiles to himself at the tableau, taking the serpent eye ring from the poet's hand. If it was not for the coppery smell of blood, the growing smell of loosened bladders and bowels, you could almost believe they slept........ He spins on his heel and makes his way back to the solar, selecting all of the more compelling evidence and placing it in his pack. The remainder he returns to the steel chest from which it came. He turns the key and replaces the casket in the wall niche, sliding back the painted panel and rearranging the covering tapestry. He returns to the passage, and retraces the route perle would have taken from the servery. He scours the floor looking for any sign and sees nothing ..except.... He kneels and examines the stones, a single long strand of pure white hair. The Albino....... He re-enters the servery and takes a jug of tharlarion oil from a shelf, he returns to the two bodies and empties the contents over their bodies. Taking one of the lamps from the solar, he pours burning oil onto the carpeted floor, he returns to the passage, makes for the door and turns, tossing the blazing lamp against the wall above the peaceful forms of Ornoth and perle. The flames lick at their clothes, soon there will no evidence at all. He leaves the House of Scribes, heading back towards his lodgings. On his way he attempts to puzzle out why the Albino should take such direct involvement, particularly as he was party to the original commission, obviously his first instincts had been right and the red one's role in this pageant was much greater than it seemed. His thoughts are broken by a growing clatter and clamour, punctuated by cries of "Fire!". He looks back down the street, noticing the dull flare of flame and smoke rising above the rooftops. A slow smile crosses his mouth.... with a little luck, it might be thought that Ornoth's evidence has been destroyed along with his body and perle's. If that is the case, perhaps the documents, which he reaches inside his cloak to touch , will offer greater opportunity.
|
Chapter Seven-
"Death in the House of Scribes"