The Two of Swords: Part 11 Read Online Free

had been a monastery, built by a large and affluent order, long since disbanded. That helped. “We should be going up, not down,” he muttered to himself. “If this was a Sky monastery, there ought to be a Dawn chapel, east and central and very high up. Logic dictates—” He stopped and frowned. “This is no good. We need camouflage. We won’t get very far just hitting people.” He thought for a moment, creating stories, doing the geometry. Then he punched Musen in the face, as hard as he could.
    “Sorry,” he said, helping him up and inspecting his lip, which was bleeding well. “Now, here’s the idea. I just caught you snooping around, I have reason to believe you’re a thief, after the Imperial regalia. I’ve been wandering around for hours looking for a guard to hand you in to, but there’s never one about when you need one. Got that?”
    Musen scowled at him and nodded. A bright boy, just as he’d always thought. Axeo glanced down at his knuckles and was pleased to see he’d skinned them. “Teeth all right?”
    “Mphm.”
    “Good, no harm done, then. On we go.”
    They climbed stairs whenever they encountered them and tried to keep bearing east. They met people, but only footmen and chambermaids; no need to explain, just stay in character. “Remember,” Axeo muttered in Musen’s ear as he frogmarched him down a long, wide gallery, “if we meet anyone, you’re the desperado, I’m the peace officer. Got a knife on you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Give it here. I don’t want you getting carried away.”
    Axeo recognised the knife. It had been his once, and he’d been sure he’d dropped it. “Do you ever steal from anyone else apart from me? Just out of interest.”
    “Yes.”
    With a pang of regret he dumped it on a window ledge. “Next good knife you steal is mine, all right?”
    “All right.”
    “Deal. The thing is, I’m a very materialistic person, I like my things. Rather more than I like people, as it happens. You might want to bear that in mind.”
    Round the next bend they ran into a pair of sentries, flanking a closed door. There was no time to say anything to each other; nothing but mutual trust would save them now, the sort of faith Axeo generally reserved for the Great Smith. “I caught this one sneaking about in the—” he began to say, and then Musen hit him.
    It worked because he really hadn’t been expecting it. No time or capacity for acting his part; the world went soft around him, he tried to breathe but couldn’t, and sank to his knees. By the time he could breathe again it all appeared to be over; Musen was bending over him helping him to his feet.
    “Sorry,” Musen said with a grin.
    “That’s fine,” Axeo whispered. “Oh, hell, you didn’t kill them, did you?”
    Musen shook his head. Axeo looked for himself. They seemed secure enough. “Did they teach you to punch at Beal Defoir?”
    “No, I’m just strong.”
    Fair enough. “You’d better put them away tidily,” Axeo said. He didn’t like the way one of them was lying, but it could just be a broken leg. But how do you break a man’s leg by punching him on the jaw? “I think we passed a laundry room a little way back.” He searched them for keys, found none. “Dump them in there and cover them with sheets or something.”
    The lock was actually quite simple; four massive great wards that turned back easily, a credit to the locksmith for the quality of his filing and stoning, if not his imagination. Axeo turned the handle and opened the door a crack, slipped the lock pick back in between the seams of his boot top and waited for Musen to return. He was gratified by the brief look of surprise on Musen’s face. “Teach you to do that one day, if you’re good,” he said.
    “Thanks, I’d like that.”
    “I bet.” He put three fingertips against the door and gently wafted it open. There was light on the other side of it. “Here goes,” he whispered, and walked through.
    He was at the foot of a