The grey-lock man kicked out at the barmen, rolled away, leaped up, and dashed toward the door, knocking aside two men surprised by the sudden move. For a moment a clear path to the door appeared as curses filled the room from soldiers attempting to navigate the jumble of tables and chairs. The Nighthawk was nearing the door and freedom when a slender fighter interposed himself. The assassin leaped toward the door. With near-inhuman speed Arutha stepped forward and struck the grey-locked man a blow to the head with his rapier’s hilt. The stunned man teetered for a moment, then collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Arutha stood erect and looked about the room. The blond assassin lay with eyes staring blankly upward, obviously dead. The hooded man’s cloak was thrown back and he was white with pain as the dagger pinning his hand to the table was pulled loose. Three soldiers held him down, though he looked too weak to stand upon his own feet. When a soldier roughly stripped the black ring from the wounded hand, the Nighthawk screamed and fainted.
Jimmy stepped gingerly around the dead man and came up to Arutha. He looked down to where Gardan was removing the other black ring from the man on the floor and then the boy grinned at Arutha. Holding up his hand, he counted two on his fingers.
The Prince, still flushed from the struggle, smiled and nodded. None of his men appeared wounded and he had two assassins in tow. He said to Gardan, “Guard them closely and let no one who is not known to us see them when you take them into the palace. I’ll have no rumors flying around. Lucas and others may be in danger enough when these three turn up missing, should others from the Guild of Death be about. Leave enough of this company to keep up the appearance of normal business until closing, and pay Lucas double the damages, with our thanks.” Even as he spoke, Gardan’s company was restoring the inn to order, removing the broken table and moving the others about so it would not be noticed missing. “Take these two to the rooms I have chosen and be quick about it. We shall begin questioning tonight. “
Guards blocked a door leading to a remote wing of the palace. The rooms were used only occasionally by guests of minor importance. The wing was a recent construction, being accessible from the main buildings of the palace by a single short hall and a single outside doorway. The outside door was bolted from within and was posted with two guards without, who had orders that absolutely no one, no matter who, was to enter or leave by that door.
Inside the wing all the outer rooms had been secured. In the center of the largest room of the suite Arutha studied his two prisoners. Both were tied to stout wooden beds by heavy ropes. Arutha was taking no chances on their attempting suicide. Father Nathan supervised his acolytes, who tended the two assassins’ wounds.
Abruptly one of the acolytes moved away from the bedside of the man with the grey lock. He looked at Nathan, his face betraying confusion. “Father, come see.”
Jimmy and Laurie followed behind the priest and Arutha. Nathan stepped up behind the acolyte and all heard his sharp intake of breath. “Sung show us the way!” The grey-locked man’s leather armor had been cut away, revealing a black tunic beneath embroidered with a silver fisher’s net. Nathan pulled away the other prisoner’s robe. Beneath that robe was another, of nights black color, also with a silver net over his heart. The prisoner’s hand had been bandaged and he had regained consciousness. He glared defiantly at the priest of Sung, naked hatred in his eyes.
Nathan motioned the Prince aside. “These men wear the mark of Lims-Kragma in her guise as the Drawer of Nets, she who gathers all to her in the end. “
Arutha nodded. “It fits in. We know the Nighthawks are contacted through the temple. Even should the hierarchy of the temple be ignorant of this business, someone within the temple must be a confederate of the Nighthawks. Come, Nathan, we must question this other one.” They returned to the bed where the conscious man lay. Looking down upon him, Arutha said, “Who offers the price for my death?”
Nathan was called to attend the unconscious man. “Who are you?” demanded the Prince of the other. “Answer now, or the pain you’ve endured will be merely a hint of what will be visited upon you.” Arutha did not enjoy the prospect of torture, but he would not stop at any means to discover who was responsible for the attack upon him. The question and the threat were answered by silence.
After a moment Nathan returned to Arutha’s side. “The other is dead,” he said softly. “We must treat this one cautiously. That man should not have died from your blow to the head. They may have means to command the body not to fight against death, but to welcome it. It is said even a hardy man may will himself to death, given enough time.”