We went back out into the muddy streets, and it was like we were walking through the Singing Woods again, only we’d traded Chahsaeda for Andraescav, and Yaendrid for Jahldorani. Which was an improvement, I thought, as both were competent swordsmen and neither were likely to betray me. It had started raining again. Rahasabahst is a great, timbered city, although you wouldn’t know it from looking at the buildings. Our ancestors were content with log houses, but now that we’ve attained a degree of civilization, we tend to plaster over the logs and then tile the plaster with our famous ceramics. The rain-wet tiles glimmered with painted scenes of river picnics and country dances. Tarahnvae is a fine district, being close to the palace. The houses are well kept, and the citizenry has a liking for geraniums, which sit in little pots near the doorsteps. Their red petals were bright like blood in the rain and seemed to glisten ominously as we moved.

  We turned towards the river and were halfway along Graeseite Alley when I glanced through the open door of a seedy little tavern and saw Boebdan, one of my two night lieutenants, sitting at a table. He was wearing a dirty blouse, and the ties were undone, so that it hung open, revealing a nest of bronze chest hair. He raised his head and regarded me with a sleepy, insolent gaze. Someone shifted at his side, just out of the line of sight from the doorway.

  I went in. Perhaps I was thinking that I might add him to our little honor guard. Boebdan always claimed that he could see in the dark, and the room was dim enough that I might have had an opportunity to test that claim. It was dank with the odor of spilled beer and the odd smell of rotting cloth. It was also empty, except for Boebdan and his companion, who turned out to be a White Cat. A small, wizened, peevish face peered up at me out of a dirty tunic that had a piece of sodden paper pinned to its front. The ink had run, but I could still see that the cat on it was on the verge of pouncing.

  “Lieutenant,” I said, stepping to the table. There was a rustle of cloth behind me, and I looked back to reassure myself that Vaenahma had followed me into the inn. They were glancing about, and I followed their gaze. There was a chipped and knife-scarred bar across one end of the room, but it was abandoned. As if the bartender had been paid to go away so that Boebdan and the White Cat could have a private conversation.

  Boebdan stared up at me, but he didn’t attempt to get to his feet. “Captain, I heard you were dead. Or a traitor. Something like that.”

  “Lieutenant,” I said, “I heard that you were cavorting with bandits. Seems that the rumors are true.”

  Boebdan gave an insolent shrug. “You never concerned yourself with the night watch before.”

  My pride was stung. “I did regular inspections.”

  He smirked. “Very regular. Always on the seventh day. And always at dusk.”

  I flushed. He was confirming my suspicions, and didn’t seem to think that he needed to conceal his venality from me anymore. He was probably right. “Who’s your friend?” I growled.

  “Never mind who I am,” the White Cat said.

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  “What business do you have with each other?” I persisted.

  “The best kind of business,” Boebdan said, rubbing his fingers together.

  I scowled. “You’re dismissed from your post, Lieutenant.”

  He stretched and grinned at me. “Not sure you can do that. Prince Chahsaeda would have to approve. I don’t think he’ll agree with you, not if Oesair objects.”

  “We’ll see. You are unwelcome at the guardhouse.”

  The grin widened. “You been there yet, Captain? Marched there with all your loyal troops?”

  “I am still in command.”

  He stood up. Languidly. There was something studied and rehearsed about his movements, as if he’d been planning this confrontation for a long time. “You were never in command, *Captain*. You were good for leaping around on rooftops and saving damsels. Distracting the public eye from the real purpose of the guard.”

  “And that purpose was?”

  His eyes narrowed. They were thin and shaped like melon slices that seemed begrimed and rotted. I had always thought that it was unlikely that he could see in the dark with those eyes, despite his claims. “I think you know what it was. What it is. We don’t have to pretend anymore, do we?”

  Vaenahma killed him. It happened so quickly that I could do nothing to intervene. The tip of their sword flicked out of the darkness and a line of blood appeared below Boebdan’s chin. The White Cat leapt up from his chair. Vaenahma killed him, too. A fast, precise strike to his eye. Blood splashed up onto my cheek. Boeddan’s body fell to the floor. The White Cat’s collapsed back into the chair.

  Silence. I turned and stared at Vaenahma. “I thought you regretted killing the boys in the woods,” I said.

  They shrugged. “They were just drunk. Stupid and innocent. We need to thin the ranks of our enemies. We might as well start now.”

  “That’s not how we do things, in the guard.”

  “Captain, I don’t think there is a guard anymore.” I glanced towards the door, afraid that I’d see a face peeking in. “I sent them ahead,” Vaenahma said. “We shouldn’t be seen with them, anyway.”

  “We shouldn’t?”

  “Captain, we need the element of surprise.”

  I looked at the corpses. “You’ve certainly achieved it, here.”

  My lieutenant shrugged again. “No one saw. When their bodies are found, their deaths will be put down to the general lawlessness.”

  That made me angry. “Vaenahma,” I said, “we are the law.”

  They stood their ground. “Maybe. But do you think anyone will be executing White Cats, no matter what they do? Do you think they’ll be brought to trial, or spend a single night in jail? It’s all changed, Captain. At least for now. You need to accept that.”

  And with that portentous speech, Vaenahma bent and wiped their blade clean on the tunic of the White Cat. They took care to smear the pinned drawing with blood.