purchase on the polished wooden floor as he stumbled towards the Protector. DeWar, bare footed, was on him before he'd taken half a step, coming quickly up behind him, putting one hand over his face and pulling his head back with fingers stuck into the man's nostrils and one eye. Ambassador Oestrile screamed as DeWar sliced his dagger across the man's exposed throat. Blood sprayed and bubbled as the scream was drowned.
Oestrile crashed to his knees, finally dropped the dagger, then fell sideways, neck spurting blood on to the gleaming floor.
'Sir?' DeWar asked UrLeyn breathlessly, still half watching the body twitching on the floor. Sounds of a commotion came from outside the chamber's doors. Thuds sounded. 'Sir! Protector! General!' a dozen voices babbled.
'I'm fine! Stop breaking the damn door down!' UrLeyn shouted. The commotion became a little less intense. He looked at where the painted plaster scene of the busy city square had been. In the little cupboard-sized room which had been revealed behind there was a stout wooden post with a crossbow fastened to it. UrLeyn looked back at DeWar, and put his own small knife back in its pocket sheath. 'No damage done, thank you, DeWar. And you?'
'I am uninjured too, sir. Sorry T had to kill him.' He looked down at the body, which gave out one final bubbling sigh and then seemed to collapse in on itself a little. The pool of blood on the floor was deep and dark and still spreading viscously. DeWar knelt, keeping his dagger at what was left of the man's throat as he felt for a pulse.
'Never mind,' the Protector said. 'Took some killing, too, did you not think?' He gave an almost girlish chuckle.
'I think some of his strength and his bravery came from a potion or some such drug-brew, sir.'
'Hmm,' UrLeyn said, then looked to the doors. 'Will you shut up!' he yelled. 'I'm perfectly all right, but this piece of shit tried to kill me! Palace guard?'
'Aye, sir! Five present!' shouted a muffled voice.
'Get Commander ZeSpiole. Tell him to find the rest of the diplomatic mission and arrest them. Clear everybody away from those doors, then enter. Nobody but the palace guards are allowed in here until I say so. Got all that?'
'Sir!' The commotion intensified for a while, then began to subside again until there was almost no noise in the painted chamber.
DeWar had unbuttoned the failed assassin's coat. 'Chain mail,' he said, fingering the coat's lining. He tapped the garment's collar. 'And metal.' He gripped the shaft of the crossbow bolt, strained, then stood and put one bare foot on Ambassador Oestrile's head, eventually pulling the bolt free with a delicate crunching noise. 'No wonder it was deflected.'
UrLeyn stepped to the side of the dais. 'Where did the dagger come from? I didn't see.'
DeWar crossed to the tall chair, leaving bloody footprints. He lifted first the telescope and then the hide cylinder it had been transported within. He peered into the case. 'There's some sort of clip at the bottom.' He inspected the telescope. 'There is no glass at the large end. The dagger must have nested inside the device when it was inside the case.'
'Sir?' a voice came from the door.
'What?' UrLeyn shouted.
'Guard Sergeant HieLiris and three others here, sir.'
'Come in,' UrLeyn told them. The guards entered, looking warily about. All looked surprised at the hole where the city painting had been. 'You have not seen that,' the Protector told them. They nodded. DeWar stood cleaning his dagger on a piece of cloth. UrLeyn stepped forward and kicked the dead man in the shoulder, sending him flopping on to his back.
'Take this away,' he told the guards. Two of them sheathed their swords and took one end of the body each.
'Better take a limb each, lads,' DeWar told them. 'That coat's heavy.'
'See to the clear-up, will you, DeWar?' asked UrLeyn.
'I should be at your side, sir. If this is a determined attack there might be two assassins, the second waiting for us to relax when we think the attack has failed.'
UrLeyn drew himself up and took a deep breath. 'Don't worry about me. I'm going off to lie down now,' he said.
DeWar frowned. 'Are you sure you're all right, sir?'
'Oh, I'm fine, DeWar,' the Protector said, following the trail of blood as the guards carried the body to the doors. 'I'm going off to lie down on top of somebody very young and plump and firm.' He grinned back at DeWar from the doors. 'Proximity to death does this to me,' he announced. He laughed, looking down at the trail of blood, then at the black pool of it by the dais. 'I should have been an undertaker.'
5. THE DOCTOR
Master, it was now about the time of year when the Court works itself into the most excited and febrile State as everyone prepares for the Circuition and the move to the Summer Palace. The Doctor was busy with her preparations just as everybody else was busy with theirs, though of course in her case there might have been expected to be an added excitement given that this would be her first Circuition. I did all that I could to help her, though I was constrained in this for a while by a slight fever which kept me in my bed for a few days.
I confess I hid the symptoms of my illness for as long as I could, feeling that the Doctor would think me weak, and also because I had heard from the apprentices of other doctors that however kindly and pleasant their masters might be with their paying patients, when their own devoted helpers took poorly they were, to a man (which naturally they all were), notoriously brusque and unsympathetic.
Doctor Vosill was, however, a very agreeable and understanding doctor to me while I was ill, and tended to my needs as though she were my mother (which I do not think she is quite old enough to be).
I would not record anything beyond my brief infirmity, and might even have skipped over it entirely, save to explain to my Master why there was a gap in my reports, but for the following, which struck me as possibly shedding some light on the Doctor's mysterious past before she appeared in the city two years ago.
I was, I freely confess, in a strange state at the height of my sickness, devoid of appetite, sweating freely and falling into a state of semi-unconsciousness. Whenever I closed my eyes I was convinced I was seeing odd and vexatious shapes and figures who tormented me with their manic and incomprehensible shiftings and cavortings.
My greatest fear, as may be imagined, was that I might say something that would reveal to the Doctor the fact that I had been charged with reporting on her actions. Of course, given that she is obviously a good and trustworthy person from all that I have seen and reported so far (and so evidently devoted to our good King), it may be that no ultimate damage would result from such a revelation, but however that may be I will of course heed my Master's wishes and keep my mission a secret.
Be assured then, Master, that no word or hint of that assignment was transmitted by me, and the Doctor remains none the wiser regarding these reports. Still, while that most precious confidence remained locked well within myself, other of my normal inhibitions and self-constraints had slackened off due to the influence of the
'You are too good to me, Doctor. A nurse should do this.'
'A nurse will do this if I am called away to the King again.
'Our dear King! How I love him!' I cried (which was sincere, if a little embarrassing).
'As do we all, Oelph,' the Doctor said, squeezing water from a cloth over my chest and — with what seemed like a thoughtful look — rubbing my skin clean. She was crouched at the side of my bed, which is a very low one due to the constraints of space within my cell.
I looked into the Doctor's face, which seemed sad just then, I thought. 'Don't fear, Doctor. You will keep him
