The Assassin's Tale Read Online Free PDF Page B

blankets falling away, and saw Jager standing near his wardrobe, getting dressed. 
    “Is that it, then?” she said, half-joking, half-afraid. “You’ll have your way with me and slip away in the night?”
    “Given that this is my domus,” said Jager, “that would be unwise.” He looked at her and grinned, and Mara remembered that she was not wearing any clothing. “And if I did that, I would miss this most excellent view.”
    “Flatterer,” said Mara. 
    “Though I am glad you are awake,” said Jager. “I had some thoughts on how to escape from Cintarra.”
    “You do?” said Mara. She rolled to her feet and stretched, aware that Jager was admiring the view, and she felt both a little embarrassed and quite pleased by that. She began to gather her clothing. “What did you have in mind?”
    “We fake our deaths,” said Jager. “I have quite a few people annoyed at me, given that they hired you to kill me. And I imagine that the Matriarch is rather offended by betrayal.”
    “That is rather an understatement,” said Mara, donning her shift and then her dress. 
    “So, we shall fake our deaths,” said Jager. “We’ll steal a few corpses from the mortuary and secure them here. Then we’ll start a fire in the bedroom. That will give my servants time to escape, and when they dig the corpses out of the rubble, everyone will assume that it is us. Most likely the Matriarch will believe that you tried to kill me and things got out of hand.” 
    “Will that work?” said Mara.
    “It has before,” said Jager. 
    Mara frowned. “You mean you have stolen corpses and committed arson to fake your death before?”
    “Only twice.”
    “Twice?” 
    Jager smiled. “A long story.” Mara finished dressing, pulled on her boots, and clipped her dagger to her belt. “Would you care to walk with me to the mortuary? A friend of mine works there, and more importantly is most amenable to bribes.” 
    “Charmer,” said Mara. “We…”
    The door burst open. Jager spun and snatched up his short sword and dagger in one smooth motion, the weapons’ jeweled hilts glittering. Mara drew her dagger and stepped to his side, holding the blade out before her. Three men stormed through the door, armed with swords and daggers. They wore leather armor the color of blood beneath hooded dark cloaks. Masks of red steel covered their faces, wrought in the shape of grinning skulls.
    The masks of the Red Brothers of Mhor, worn when they went to kill in the blood god’s name. 
    Evidently the Matriarch had lost patience at last. 
    “Run,” said Mara, her voice hoarse. “Go!” 
    Jager said nothing. Did he wonder if she had betrayed him? If she had lowered his guard only to invite the Red Brothers into his domus? 
    “Traitor,” said the lead assassin, his voice familiar. He reached up and lifted his mask, and Mara saw Cassius’s blocky features glaring at her. “I knew you would betray the Matriarch. I knew your zeal for Mhor was lacking. But I never expected you to spread your legs for a halfling worm.”
    “Flattery, sir?” said Jager. “You should know that I am not amenable to it.”
    He took a sidelong step towards the massive wooden wardrobe. 
    “Silence, dog,” said Cassius, gesturing with his sword. 
    “What do you want, Cassius?” said Mara, hoping to buy time. Perhaps Jager had a rope and could scramble down from the balcony. 
    “Don’t think to beg,” said Cassius, taking a heavy step forward, his weapons coming up. “I want the blood of the target poured out as an offering to Mhor. And I want your blood, Mara. A fitting end for you, since you spurned Mhor.”
    “Since I spurned you, Cassius?” said Mara, hoping to keep his attention upon her. “Jealousy? Well, I’m not surprised. Jager was twice the man you’ll ever be.” 
    Jager snickered. “Why, thank you.” He took one more step toward the wardrobe.
    “Shut up,” said Cassius. 
    “Kill me if it will make you feel better,” said