“And you’re making a tactical blunder,” Master Blint said. “The king might kill my apprentice, my friend, and even me, but at the least, he will have lost his lord general. A poor trade.”
“I don’t think he would find my death to be such a very great loss,” the lord general said.
“Ah, figured that out, have you?” Blint asked. “This may be the first time you’ve seen me, Brant Agon, but it isn’t the first time I’ve seen you.”
The lord general looked puzzled. “So you’ve seen me. So have half the people in the city.”
“Does your wife still crowd your side of the bed? Sweet, isn’t it? Does she still wear that drab nightgown with the daisies embroidered on the hem? You really love her, don’t you?”
Lord General Agon froze.
“You call me abhorrent?” Durzo asked. “You owe me your life!”
“What?”
“Didn’t you ever wonder why you got a promotion instead of a knife in the back?”
From his eyes, even Azoth could tell that the lord general had.
“I was in your house the night King Davin died, when you and Regnus Gyre met. I was to kill your wife as a warning to you. Later, the prince would offer you a better marriage to a young noblewoman who would be able to give you sons. And I was authorized to kill both you and Regnus if you were plotting treason. I spared you—and I don’t get paid unless I leave corpses. I don’t expect your gratitude, lord general, but I demand your respect!”
Lord General Agon’s face went gray. “You . . . you told Aleine that my price was the promotion. He thought he bought me off with a promotion rather than a wife.” Azoth could see him mentally reviewing comments he must have heard over the last four months, and getting sicker and sicker. “Why?”
“You’re the illustrious general, the old war hero. You tell me.” Durzo sneered.
“Putting me in charge of the army divided the Sa’kagé’s enemies. It kept the king from putting someone he could trust in charge of the military. You bastards have got people everywhere, don’t you?”
“Me? I’m just a sellsword. I’m just a wreck of a human being.”
The general’s face was still gray, but his back never bent an inch. “You’ve . . . you’ve given me much to think about, Master Blint. Though I still believe the murders you’ve committed merit hanging, I dishonored you and myself with my hasty words. I apologize. My apology, however, has no effect on the king’s determination that you serve him. I—”
“Get out,” Master Blint said. “Get out. If you reconsider your threats, I’ll be here for a few minutes.”
The general rose, and watching Master Blint carefully, walked to the door. He opened it, and kept his eyes on Master Blint until he closed the door behind himself. Azoth heard his steps echo down the hall.
Master Blint stared at the door and scooted back from the table. Instead of relaxing now that the general was gone, he tensed. Everything about him spoke of potential action. He looked like a mongoose waiting for a serpent to strike.
“Step away from the door, Azoth,” he said. “Stand by the window.”
There was no hesitation. Azoth had learned that lesson. He didn’t have to understand; he just had to obey.
He heard a crash on the stairs and loud cursing. Azoth stood by the window and looked at Master Blint, but the man’s pockmarked face betrayed nothing.
Moments later, the door banged open. The lord general lurched in, sword drawn. “What have you done?” he roared. His knees bowed and he leaned heavily against the doorframe to keep from falling.
Master Blint didn’t say anything.
The general blinked and tried to straighten, but a spasm passed through his body as his stomach cramped. It passed, and he said, “How?”
“I put a contact poison on the door latch,” Master Blint said. “It seeps right through the skin.”
“But if we’d reached a deal . . .” the lord general said.
“I’d have opened the door for you. If you’d worn gloves, I had other plans. Now I want you to listen very closely. The king is an incompetent, treacherous, foul-mouthed child, so I’m going to make this very clear. I’m a first-rate wetboy. He’s a second-rate king. I won’t work for him. If you want, you can hire me yourself: I’ll kill the king, but I won’t kill for him. And there’s no way you or he can pressure me.
“I know he won’t believe that, because Aleine Gunder is the kind of man who believes he can get whatever he wants. So here’s why he’s going to believe.” Master Blint stood. “First, I’m going to leave a message for him tonight in the castle. Second, you’re going to investigate what happened to Count Yosar Glin. He was the client who betrayed me. Third, there’s what has already happened to you. And fourth—do sit, Agon, and put away the sword. It’s insulting.”
Lord General Agon crashed into a chair. The long sword fell from his fingers. He didn’t appear to have the strength to pick it up. Regardless, his eyes were still clear, and he was hearing every word Master Blint said.
“Lord General, I don’t care who he kills. I know you have this inn surrounded, that there are crossbowmen covering the windows of this room. They don’t matter. More importantly, the king’s threats don’t matter. I will be no man’s lapdog. I serve who I will, when I will, and I will never serve Aleine Gunder. Azoth, come here.”
Azoth went to his master, wondering why Blint had used his name. He stood in front of Master Blint, who rested his hands on Azoth’s shoulders and turned him to face General Agon.
“Azoth here is my best apprentice. He’s agile. He’s smart. He learns things after being told once. He works tirelessly. Azoth, tell the general what you’ve learned about life.”
Without hesitation, Azoth said, “Life is empty. Life is meaningless. When we take a life, we aren’t taking anything of value. Wetboys are killers. That’s all we do. That’s all we are. There are no poets in the bitter business.”
“Lord General,” Blint said, “are you with me?”
“I’m with you,” the general said, fire raging in his eyes.
Master Blint’s voice was ice. “Then know this: I’d kill my own apprentice before I’d let you use him against me.”
The general jerked sharply in his chair as if shocked. He was staring at Azoth. Azoth followed his gaze to his own chest.
Several inches of bloodied steel were protruding from him. Azoth saw them and felt an uncomfortable pushing, spreading sensation from his back all the way through his center. It seemed cool, then warm, then painful. He blinked his eyes slowly and looked back to the general, whose eyes were full of horror. Azoth looked at the steel.
He recognized that blade. He’d cleaned it that day he went looking for Doll Girl. He hoped Master Blint would at least wipe it down before he brought it back for Azoth to clean. It had filigree on the blade that held blood if you let it dry there. Azoth had had to use the point of a stiletto to pick it out. It took hours.
Then Azoth was drawn to the location of the dagger. At that angle on a child’s chest, it would have clipped the fat vessel above the heart. If so, the deader would go down as soon as the dagger was drawn out. There would be a lot of blood. The deader would die within seconds.