The White Gryphon

Tests? Tests? These weren’t tests! What is he talking about? The overfed, obnoxious base-born bastard! What does he think he’s doing? Who does he think he’s dealing with?

“We’ve selected your next target, Hadanelith,” Kanshin said—nervously though. Very nervously. Hadanelith quieted his rage and set it aside. This was odd; he’d never seen the scrawny little thief nervous about any assignment ever before. What could be so difficult about this one?

“Your next victim will be Shalaman,” Noyoki said with such careless casualness that it had to be an act.

“Shalaman? The Emperor?” Hadanelith was incredulous, and even angrier than before. He jumped to his feet and faced them both with his fists clenched at his side.

“What have you been drinking? You know I won’t handle a man, I have no interest in them!”

He felt his face flush with fury and outrage. Just who did these two think they were? He’d told them he wouldn’t target males—not for that, anyway! There was only one man he’d ever be willing to kill, and only after he’d made Amberdrake suffer a great deal more than he had so far! It would take years, decades, to inflict all the misery he’d planned on Amberdrake’s soul!

“Now, Hadanelith, we know it’s going to be dangerous,” Kanshin said in a wheedling voice, as if he were a recalcitrant child. “We’re prepared to take care of that. Haven’t we always?”

Hadanelith shook his head violently in disgust, his vision turning red around the edges, he was so angry with them. What was the matter with them? Danger didn’t worry him, and they knew it—danger was only a spice!

“I am not targeting a male!” he spat. “I told you that before, and I’m not changing my mind just because you think you have a way to kill the Emperor and get away with it!”

“Well, if you’re afraid—” Noyoki began.

Hadanelith spat on the floor at his feet in a deliberate insult. “Hardly! Why should I fear one fat old man? I won’t take him as a target, that’s all! That was our bargain—I get targets I like!” He narrowed his eyes, and the red of thwarted rage suffused his entire field of vision. “You’re trying to cheat me!”

“Not cheat you—offering you a challenge to your talents!” Noyoki replied, in a coaxing tone of voice. “We know you’re brilliant, we planned to give you something with more spice to it than that last target.” He gave Hadanelith a sly, sideways look. “How can you resist a chance to assassinate Shalaman at the height of the Eclipse Ceremony?”

Anger vanished, collapsing into itself like a deflated bladder. He gaped at the two of them, certain now that they had gone mad—or else that they had been drinking or otherwise ingesting something that had turned their brains to mush in the past few hours.

Assassinate the King? In public?

“You’re both mad,” he repeated flatly, a chill creeping up his spine. “Completely mad. You only think I’m mad; you two ought to be locked away for your own good.”

Neither of them changed their expressions, or even said anything. They just watched him.

“What could you possibly tell me that would make me think you weren’t mad?” he challenged, beginning to wonder himself. “Killing Shalaman—that’s nothing more than suicidal! I’m not stupid, you know! And you’re going to have a fine time dragging me up to the Emperor, strapping a knife into my hand, and throwing me at him, because that’s the only way it’s going to happen!”

In spite of himself, he felt a tiny bit of intrigue as they continued to watch him narrowly but did not reply. They must have something up their capacious sleeves to make this idea possible!

Something besides making the sacrificial lamb out of me, anyway.

It was enough to pique even his curiosity. He wanted to know—but he still had no intention of doing anything about it.

Let them do it, if it’s such a good scheme. And besides, they still hadn’t overcome his basic objection. Shalaman was male. They had given him no reason whatsoever for him to target a male. Males were males, they were not inherently tainted like females were. There would be no thrill in it, and without the thrill, why bother?

“We have an absolutely foolproof scheme,” Noyoki said with confidence. “We can get you right next to the King, you can kill him, and we can get you away before he drops to the ground.”

Fine. There’s still no thrill. His mood turned again, back to anger, this time a sullen anger. What did they think he was, some sort of automaton, a killing machine like a makaar, something that could be sent out on a whim and didn’t care what it killed?