The Silent Enemy Read Online Free PDF Page B

Black Dragon had also secreted underneath before going to sleep . . . the small pouch containing the documents he had been asked to deliver to Count Trocero.
    Satisfied that they were there, the knight’s fingers switched to the dagger. Nermesa gripped the hilt, at the same time, to all apparent purposes, still sleeping undisturbed.
    He heard the creak of a floorboard behind him.
    With a fluidity of movement that bitter experience had honed well, the Black Dragon spun about in the bed, the dagger already in flight. In the black chamber, Nermesa heard the solid thunk as his blade struck something that was not wood.
    That sound was followed by a strong grunt and the shuffling of boots. As Nermesa leapt to his feet, something hard collided with him. Only belatedly did he realize it to be one of the chairs.
    But the collision had thrown Nermesa closer to where he kept his sword. The weapon, purposely set unsheathed near the opposing side of the bed, was in his hand even as he turned the collision into a crouch.
    A dim but still-startling glow met Nermesa’s gaze as he came to his feet again. As his eyes compensated, he saw that the door to the room now hung wide open. Near the entrance, his dagger lay on the floor, a dark pool of liquid surrounding it.
    Nermesa wasted no more time, charging out of the captain’s quarters and into the open interior of the fort. He paused to listen for some sound of fleeing footsteps but heard nothing.
    A guard suddenly came rushing over to the Aquilonian. Before the man could speak, Nermesa asked, “Did you see him? Did you see where he went?”
    “Who—”
    Another voice cut in. “Captain Nermesa! What is it?”
    Dante, his upper torso unclothed, joined the two. He wielded a thick broadsword, which he looked very capable of using.
    “Someone stole into the room. I think—I think he was after my pouch . . .” Despite the urgency of seeking the assailant, Nermesa suddenly whirled about and headed back inside. Rushing to the bed, he thrust his hand underneath the pillow and, with tremendous relief, dragged forth the small package. The seal was still on it, which meant that the contents were safe.
    Returning outside, he saw the garrison commander—now surrounded by a half a dozen other soldiers—giving orders. Someone had brought oil lamps and three other soldiers scoured the ground in search of clues.
    “I don’t understand how he got in here,” snarled Dante. “Rest assured, though, he’ll not get far!”
    Nermesa was not so certain. Even after one of the other Gundermen located what looked like blood spots heading toward the eastern side of the fort, he suspected that the mysterious intruder was already well hidden.
    But Captain Dante was determined to follow through, and Nermesa certainly did not wish to let his mysterious assailant slip through his fingers. With an able squad of Dante’s countrymen behind them, the duo followed the men with the lamps. The trail quickly ended near a wall, where, up on the walkway that encompassed the entire interior of the fort, they discovered a grisly sight.
    One of the sentries had been packed tight into a corner of the walkway, his body purposely crumpled in a heap. In the dark, no one could see him unless they were right upon the location.
    Nermesa inspected the corpse. The man had been stabbed through the heart. Blood still trickled down his torso. He had not been dead all that long, likely minutes before the intrusion.
    Before he could make a better inspection, Captain Dante pointed beyond the fort. “The damned knave must’ve slipped back among the caravans and the shops!” He all but dragged Nermesa from the dead sentry. “Come! Before the trail grows too cold! I’ll not have this go on under my command without finding the one who did it!”
    Descending, the Gunderman led Nermesa and the others into civilian “Samalara.” Though it was late, and one would have thought that most of those travelers who had stopped for the night