side of the story before I went to Kadakithis with it.’
At the mention of the prince’s name, Tempus raised his head and ceased his
filing. ‘And the nature of the complaint?’ he asked darkly.
‘It is said you’re committing wanton murder during your off-duty hours.’
‘Oh, that. It’s not wanton. I only hunt hawk-masks.’
Zalbar had been prepared for many possible .responses to his accusations: angry
denial, a mad dash for freedom, a demand for proof or witnesses. This easy
admission, however, caught him totally off-balance. ‘You … you admit your
guilt?’ he managed at last, surprise robbing him of his composure.
‘Certainly. I’m only surprised anyone has bothered to complain. No one should
miss the killers I’ve taken … least of all you.’
‘Well, it’s true I hold no love for Jubal or his sell-swords,’ Zalbar admitted,
‘but, there are still due processes of law to be followed. If you want to see
them brought to justice you should have…’
‘Justice?’ Tempus laughed. ‘Justice has nothing to do with it.’
‘Then why hunt them?’
‘For practice,’ Tempus informed them, studying his serrated sword once more. ‘An
unexercised sword grows slow. I like to keep a hand in whenever possible and
supposedly the sell-swords Jubal hires are the best in town – though, to tell
the truth, if the ones I’ve faced are any example, he’s being cheated.’
‘That’s all?’ Razkuli burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. ‘That’s
all the reason you need to disgrace your uniform?’
Zalbar held up a warning hand, but Tempus only laughed at the two of them.