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glanced at the comatose man again, wishing he would wake up and lift his head so he could see his face. This was the most likely prospect he had encountered, for the man was the boy's master and therefore an elder. If anything, he seemed a trifle young, but without seeing his face, Darian could not accurately judge his age. He turned to the boy.
    "May I buy you and your master a drink?"
    The apprentice looked suspicious. "Why?"
    "I have business to discuss with you, and him, if he wakes up."
    "You want a killing, you talk to me."
    Darian's brows rose. "You have your mark?"
    The boy tugged open his collar to reveal a black dagger tattoo at the base of his throat. He seemed too young to be a full-fledged assassin, and Darian had assumed that he was an apprentice. Darian lifted a hand to summon a serving girl, and moved towards the empty bench opposite the slumped man. The boy nodded, allowing him to sit, then slid onto the bench beside his former master. Darian ordered two ales and leant forward, placing his arms on the table.
    "I'll pay you to help me find the Queen's Blade."
    The boy frowned. "I ain't no messenger nor hound."
    "It's easy work, and well paid." Darian placed a heavy pouch on the table, and the boy's eyes narrowed. Darian went on, "What's more, you can do it in your spare time, and continue your other work as well. I reckon, since you're an assassin, that you'll have a better chance of finding him than me, don't you?"
    "Probably, but what do you want with him?"
    "I have a message for him from the Regent, that's all. It's very important that I give it to him. A matter of life and death. The Queen is in danger, and the Regent needs his help. Perhaps when he wakes up, you could ask your elder? He must be a wise man, maybe he knows where the Queen's Blade is?"
    "P'raps." The boy looked doubtful. "What's the pay?"
    Darian hefted the money pouch. "Handsome, I assure you. The quicker we find him, the more it will be. Wouldn't you like to ask your elder now?"
    The boy glanced at the sleeping man. "No."
    "All right, when he wakes up then." Darian supressed a spurt of impatience and schooled his features into a bland expression. The more the boy evaded him, the more certain he became that the older assassin must be the Queen's Blade. He was tempted to kick the man under the table, but controlled himself and sat back as the ales arrived. Since the conversation had dried up, he finished his beverage in a few gulps, then went to seek some fresh air outside. He was gone only a few minutes, but when he returned the assassins had vanished. Cursing, he scanned the shadows for them, but found only burly farmers and traders. He pushed his way to the back of the taproom, but if there was a door there, it was well hidden.
    Darian left the alehouse, cursing himself for leaving the assassins alone, even for a moment. Without doubt, the older man had been faking his stupor, for why would the boy rouse him and hurry him from the inn as soon as Darian had left? If the older man had been faking, then he must have something to hide. His face perhaps. It seemed to confirm all of Darian's suspicions, yet he could not be certain, even now.
    The older man might have been on the verge of waking when Darian left, and had departed without knowing about the messenger. If he was the Queen's Blade, surely he would want to hear the message from his wife? Did the fact that the Queen was in danger mean nothing to him? Darian had not been told any details of the danger, other than the strange message he had been ordered to give to the Lord Protector if he found him.
    Darian headed back towards the inn where he was boarding, passing a gloomy alley. An arm shot out of the shadows and grabbed his collar, hauled him into the darkness and sent him crashing into a wall. He yelped as his assailant spun him around to face a shadowy form. A dagger pressed against his windpipe, silencing his cry for help. The man was lost in shadows, but spoke in a soft, chilling