Page 62 of Poisoned Empire

Like some avenging fury, Iliana appeared behind the man, every last trace of sweetness gone from her mien. Rage, fearsome and awe-inspiring, radiated from her sapphire eyes. She was out for blood.

The jewelled hand of a noblewoman joined that of the assassin on the hilt before the metal turned liquid, sending an icy chill through Marduk’s insides as it flowed from his wound and shackled the teleportation mage’s wrist to Iliana’s.

“Stupid bitch!”

The assassin struck Iliana with his free hand as Marduk fell to his knees. Eyes riveted to the scene as Iliana struggled with the mage, he tried to get to his feet. He had to protect her. In a moment, they could be anywhere in the empire. But most mages couldn’t teleport freely while in great pain.

Marduk pulled a blade from his other sleeve and rammed it through the man’s boot and foot, planting it between the cobbles, ignoring the agony in his gut. The assassin screamed. Marduk held in his own innards with one hand while the other kept him from crumpling completely. Blood pooled beneath him as more surged up his throat. Gods below, he didn’t have much time.

The assassin went for another blade with his free hand.

“Run!” Marduk howled.

The effort cost him. He coughed crimson as more slid through his fingers and pooled beneath him. He couldn’t die. Not until she was safe.

“No,” she said, as quiet as she was vehement.

Metal turned to liquid again with a flash of her eyes, solidifying on the assassin’s hand. Now devoid of weapons, he made as though to strangle Iliana. She caught his metal-coated fist in her hand. Agonized screams rang out. A wet crunching sound later, and blood rushed down the assassin’s arm as he fell to the ground, cradling a crumpled metal stump in place of his hand.

“Fucking whore!” The assassin spat.

Another shriek tore from his throat. The stump had contracted in size.

Vicious, glorious woman. Dark crept around Marduk’s vision.

“Shut your filthy mouth, or I’ll take more than just your god’s damned hand!” Iliana shouted, ripping the dagger from his foot and dragging him away.

Touching her necklace, she fashioned a collar with inverted spikes and a set of chains ending in a stake. She promptly collared the assassin with it and then drove the stake firmly into the ground, using the grip of Marduk’ own dagger as a hammer.

His vision went spotty. She rushed to his side, her steely eyes turned watery. No—he didn’t want her to cry. He tried to reach up to wipe her tears but didn’t have the strength.

“I’m so sorry. It was the only way I could get the blade out without doing more damage to you. Are you bleeding too much?”

“You’re like a goddess of war,” he whispered.

“Oh gods, did he hit something vital?” Iliana turned to the crowd, shouting for a healer.

“I think I’m in love.” His words slurred.

He fell to his side, unable to hold himself up any longer.

“No! Don’t leave me, Marduk! Please, stay with me!” She cupped his face with her calloused palms, tears falling in earnest, then turned back to the crowd with an agonised roar. “Gods damn it, get me a fucking healer!”

He supposed, if he must die, at least he would do so in the arms of a beautiful warrior.

Chapter 22

Nicephoruswasusheredintothe prince’s office as stone-faced guards clutched their spears outside. Belisarius’ hair was dishevelled along with his robes. The darkness in his eyes reminded Nicephorus of the look the emperor often wore before he was about to sever heads.

It was incumbent upon him that in dark times such as these, he was flawless in his duties and steady in his demeanour. The prince uncharacteristically held a bottle of spirits in his fist as he glared into the dying embers of his fireplace. That was almost as worrying as his foul mood. The empire couldn’t afford two drunkards in charge. Nicephorus owed it to the late Empress Nadia, his saviour, to see that her beloved son did not follow in his father’s footsteps.

“Your Royal Highness, while I was looking over the strategos’ work I noticed a recent report he hadn’t yet had a chance to read. It’s regarding your uncle’s whereabouts. I’m sorry to inform you that he passed away a few years ago. The local authorities believed the fire to be the work of a band of brigands that had been active in the area at the time. Neighbours reported he died trying to protect the other occupant of the home.”

“Thank you, Nicephorus. Is there anything to report from the interrogation of the assassin?” Belisarius asked, his voice gruff.

“Nothing particularly helpful, Your Royal Highness. He has said that he cannot identify his employer, only that he was paid a great deal of money to kill the strategos.”

Belisarius sighed heavily and placed the bottle on the table beside his chair.

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