Free Book 3 - All Darkness Met by Glen Cook Page A

and another. The boy finally collapsed. Ragnar's grandfather had, at will, been capable of killing rages. Berserk, he had been invincible.
    Shaking his head dolefully, Haaken covered Elana. "Poor Bragi," he muttered. "He don't need this on top of everything else."
    He poked his head into the hall. The surviving children and servants were in a panic. "Gundar!" he roared. "Come here. Pay attention." The ten-year-old couldn't stop staring at the assassin lying in the hall. "Run to the Queen's barracks. Tell Colonel Ahring to get your father. Right now."
    Haaken closed the door, stalked round the bedroom. "How will I tell him?" he mumbled. He toyed with disposing of the dead man. "No. Have to do it in one dose. He'll need all the evidence.
    "Somebody's gonna pay for this." He inspected the chopped corpse carefully. "El Murid has got himself one big debt."
    The hand of the Harish had reached into Vorgreberg before.
    There was nothing he could do there. He slipped out, sat down with his back against the door. He laid his sword across his lap and waited for his brother.
    One oil lamp flickered on Ragnarson'sdesk. He bent close to read the latest protest from El Murid's embassy. They sure could bitch about petty shit.
    What the hell was Haroun up to?
    Haroun was what he was, doing what he thought necessary. Even when he made life difficult, Bragi bore him no ill will. But when bin Yousif stopped conforming to his own nature....
    There hadn't been a serious protest in a year. And Valther said there had been no terrorist incursions for several. Nor had many bands of Royalist partisans passed through Kavelin bound for the camps. Nor had Customs reported the capture of any guerrilla contraband.
    It was spooky.
    Ragnarson wasn't pleased when people changed character inexplicably.
    "Derel. Any word from Karak Strabger?"
    "None, sir."
    "Something's wrong up there. I'd better...."
    "Gjerdrum can handle it, sir."
    Ragnarson's right hand fluttered about nervously. "I suppose. I wish he'd write more often."
    "I used to hear the same from his mother when he was at the university."
    "It'd risk letters falling into unfriendly hands anyway." The Queen's condition had to remain secret. For the good of the state, for his own good-if he didn't want his wife planning to cut his throat.
    Bragi didn't know how to manage it, but the news absolutely had to be kept from Elana.
    Rumors striking alarmingly near the truth ran the streets already.
    He massaged his forehead, crushed his eyelids with the heels of his hands. "This last contribution from Breidenbach. You done the figures yet?"
    "It looks good. There's enough, but it'll be risky."
    "Damned. There's got to be an honest, legal way to increase revenues."
    In the past, when he had been on the other end, Bragi's favorite gripes had been government and taxes. Taxes especially. He had seen them as a gigantic protection racket. Pay off or have soldiers on your front porch.
    "By increasing the flow of trade."
    Economics weren't his forte, but Ragnarson asked anyway. "How do we manage that?"
    "Lower the transit tax." Prataxis grinned.
    "Oh, go to hell. The more you talk, the more I get confused. If
    I had the men I'd do it the Trolledyngjan way. Go steal it from the nearest foreigner who couldn't defend himself."
    Prataxis's reply was forestalled by a knock.
    "Enter," Ragnarson growled.
    Jarl Ahring stepped in. His face was drawn.
    Premonition gripped Ragnarson. "What is it? What's happened, Jarl?"
    Ahring gulped several false starts before babbling, "At your house. Somebody.... Assassins."
    "But.... What... ?" He didn't understand. Assassins? Why would... ? Maybe robbers? There was no reason for anyone to attack his home.
    "Your son.... Gundar.... He came to the barracks. He was hysterical. He said everybody was dead. Then he said Haaken told him to have me find you. I sent twenty men over, then came here."
    "You checked it out?"
    "No. I came straight here."
    "Let's go."
    "I brought you a horse."
    "Good."