Salmina stood up, one hand pressed hard against the wall. There was confusion in her eyes as she reached up with her right hand, trying to somehow stanch the blood flowing from the side of her neck. For a grotesque moment she seemed concerned about the river of crimson that ran down between her breasts and onto her stomach, as if it was too unseemly for a woman of her beauty. Then her eyes rolled up in her head, and she collapsed.
The man was the same one who had followed him, and he held a lethal blade, slender and sharp as a razor. From his movements and his quick reaction to Tal’s move, he was an expert in its use. In addition, he had not tried to follow Tal as he rolled, but had moved in the opposite direction, placing himself between his victim and the curtain.
Tal knew that the man had less than a minute in which to kill him, for he must expect Tal to cry out and someone to come quickly to investigate. This was already a botched assassination attempt. In just an instant, the man would have to make his move.
Tal moved first. The assassin might have expected him to retreat, perhaps gaining a bit of room to make a dash for the curtain, but instead Tal reached down with both hands and overturned the table. There was no real threat, but the man stepped back instinctively in order to prevent himself being struck, and that was just as Tal had planned.
Tal leapt over the falling table, ignoring the blade. He was already cut and had many previous wounds, so another wouldn’t matter, but he wouldn’t let this man kill him.
The assassin aimed a slicing blow for Tal’s throat, and Tal ducked underneath the blade and drove his shoulder into the man’s stomach. As he had known he would, Tal received a searing slice across his back, but not at the base of the neck, which was where he was now most vulnerable.
He shoved hard and rolled, splattering his blood all over the floor. Customers entering the changing area started to shout and scream at the sight of all the blood and two men struggling on the tile floor.
Tal came up on his feet, naked and weaponless, in a crouch and bleeding from two serious wounds, but ready to defend himself as best he could. The assassin hesitated, unsure as to whether to attack one more time or make a bid for escape.
The hesitation cost him his life. Suddenly his eyes widened, and the blade fell from his fingers. Tal saw Pasko stepping up behind the man, yanking hard at the dagger he had just plunged into the assassin’s back.
He glanced down to make sure the man was no longer a threat, then quickly crossed to kneel next to Tal, who had collapsed to the floor.
“You look a mess, m’lord.’’
“No doubt,” Tal said as his head began to swim. “I think you’d best send regrets to the Lady Melinda,” he added, before his eyes rolled up and he fainted.
MYSTERY
Tal awoke.
“That’s the third time,” Pasko said.
Groaning a little from the pain and the effort of moving his body, Tal managed to ask, “Third time what?” His eyelashes felt as if they were matted together, and his mouth was dry. “Water, please?’’
Pasko helped him to raise his head and placed a cup of water to his lips. Talon sipped as another voice said, “Third time we’ve had to struggle to keep you alive, Talon.’’
Moving into Tal’s line of vision, Robert de Lyis shook his head, as he added, “That’s three lifetimes you owe us.’’
Tal continued to drink until his throat was wet and he could speak without sounding like a frog. “I’m sorry to admit, I have but one to give. And please called me Tal, since my name is now Talwin.”
“You almost gave your only life yesterday, Tal,” said Robert.
Tal glanced at his left arm and his eyes opened wide. His body ached and was stiff, but the wound to his arm was gone, as was the one across his chest. “What—?’’
“Magic,” said Robert.
Pasko said, “You have a tournament in less than two weeks’ time, m’lord, and from the depth of the wounds and the loss of blood, it was clear you would never be fit to compete.’’
“One of the possible reasons you were assaulted,” added Robert, “though I think it unlikely to have been the main one.’’
“How . . . ?”
“There are some very gifted healing priests in Roldem,” said Robert. “A few of them are very cooperative with the Conclave.”
“Is that what brought you here?” asked Tal. He started to move his arms and found that the stiffness was easing.
“I sent for him, m’lord,” said Pasko.
“Pasko noticed something that made it imperative someone from the Conclave with magician skills come at once. He reported that there was no way the assassin could have got inside the room you were being massaged in unless he had used magic.’’
Tal thought about that. The table had been large enough for someone to hide under, but he would have been seen by anyone entering. There were no cupboards or other doors. Tal said, “I should have realized that.’’
“You were indisposed,” said Robert. “Pasko has already reported to the appropriate gossips that most of the blood came from the unfortunate young woman who was killed and that you suffered only bruises and a small wound that will heal quickly. You will be fit for the tournament.”