Wraithblood: The Elixir, Episode 12
Killing Ishtara makes sense, and is probably the safest thing to do.
It is, however, the sort of thing your father would have done.
“Knock her out,” you tell Khaenset.
Ishtara’s eyes go wide, and Khaenset gives her a single sharp blow behind the left ear.
She collapses to the floor in a heap.
“Tie her up,” you tell Khaenset. “The priests of Minaerys will want to know why there are two dead thugs in their library. Well, Ishtara can explain.”
Khaenset nods, his face expressing neither approval nor disapproval, and rips strips of cloth from the hem of Ishtara’s dress, binding and gagging her with them.
“What did she call you?” you say. “An Alghol?”
“Yes,” says Khaenset, rising.
“What is an Alghol?” you say.
For a moment, just a moment, a ghost of pain flickers through Khaenset’s eyes. “We are an order of assassins. Neither pain nor death means anything to us. Ibrahaim Nasser has bargained for my services.”
“Nasser does like to bargain, doesn’t he?” you mutter.
Khaenset says nothing.
“Let’s go,” you say, “before someone asks questions.”
“As you command, mistress,” says Khaenset.
“Don’t call me that,” you say, irritated. It reminds of your father, how his slaves always addressed him as master.
“As you command,” says Khaenset.
###
At midnight you and Khaenset go to the Old City and the Temple of the Living Flame.
The temple is all gleaming black marble, a massive dome lined by elaborate colonnades. The eternal fire, tended by the priests, blaze within the temple, throwing flickering light and dancing shadows across the black courtyard.
Nasser waits in the shadows, calm as ever. With him stands Azaces, now dressed all in black, a bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, and Riordan, still in leather armor. Tarquin waits a short distance away, still in his orange slave’s robe.
“Ah, Madame Strake,” says Nasser. “Welcome. And Khaenset. I see you have successfully kept her alive. Well done.”
“As you will, master,” says Khaenset, without interest.
Azaces snorts. “Still using this old spook, Nasser?” Khaenset looks at him, and for just a moment you get the impression that Azaces is terrified.
“He is most effective,” says Nasser. “Now, to business.”
“My master has left to attend the Padishah,” says Tarquin. “He will be gone for two days. The slaves and guards will celebrate his absence by getting drunk. And I know where the wine is stored. We shall drug the wine, and creep easily through the master’s defenses.”
“I’ll handle that,” says Riordan.
“Meanwhile,” says Nasser, “Azaces and I shall enter Callatas’s dungeons via the sewers. There I will disable Callatas’s guardian,” you know he means Samnirdamnus, “and make our way into Callatas’s mansion. We shall meet in the mansion’s great hall and proceed from there.”
“The Elixir will be in my master’s strong room,” says Tarquin, “on the tenth floor of the mansion.”
“And that is where we shall need your skills, Madame Strake,” says Nasser. “Though I suspect you will come in handy well before then.”
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