Imperial Assassin by Mark Robson Page A

approach to avoid another surprise attack, but the man had not
paused this time. He was progressively stretching his lead. There was nothing Reynik could do, but doggedly press on after him.
    It was so dark in the alleyway that Reynik could no longer see the man he was chasing. It was a clattering noise followed by a frustrated curse that told him the man had tripped and fallen. The
noise brought a feeling of triumph to Reynik, though it was tempered with caution. He slowed his pace a touch as he approached the area where the assassin had tripped. The step that had caused the
man to fall almost caught Reynik as well, but he spotted it at the last second.
    There was no sign of the assassin, so Reynik knew that the man must have got up and continued running. The alleyway curved slightly ahead and then opened into another side street. Reynik moved
forward cautiously, slowing to a walk as he approached the end of the alley. He could no longer hear the assassin’s footfalls, which meant he had either stretched his lead further, or that he
was hiding somewhere.
    As he emerged from the end of the alley, his caution proved well placed. The man attacked from the right, lunging towards him with the long soldier’s knife. Reynik’s survival
instincts again served him well. He whipped his wooden pole around, connecting hard with the man’s knife wrist and deflecting it. As an extension of the movement, he continued to spin,
bringing his left foot up into a high kick, expecting to drive his boot into the side of his assailant’s head.
    To Reynik’s surprise, his kick did not land. Instead his attacker blocked the kick with his forearm, throwing him off balance. There was a scrabbling scuffle as both men fought for
position. A rapid sequence of attempted blows followed. Each was blocked and counter-attacked by the other.
    It quickly became apparent that Reynik’s wooden pole was the superior weapon, particularly as it was wielded with exceptional skill. In desperation, the assassin threw his knife. The throw
was rushed and not as accurate as it could have been, but despite twisting to avoid it, the blade sliced Reynik’s left upper arm as it passed. Again off balance and feeling the hot slice of
metal tearing through his flesh, Reynik was caught off guard as the assassin grabbed hold of his makeshift staff. There was a brief struggle for possession, as the two men wrestled back and forth
for control.
    In a pure surge of adrenalin, Reynik yanked his attacker towards him with the staff and smashed his forehead down into the bridge of the man’s nose in a vicious head butt. The
assassin’s head snapped back and a plume of blood flew from his nose. He was given no time to recover as Reynik heaved his body backwards, rolling onto the ground and dragging the man
forwards – straight onto Reynik’s waiting feet. With a heave of his legs, Reynik flipped the assassin over his head, sending him crashing down hard onto the stone street.
    This was too much for the hired killer. The wind rushed out of his lungs and he writhed on the ground in pain, letting go of the staff in the process. Reynik wasted no time. In a flash, he was
back on his feet and before his assailant had time to recover, Reynik dealt him a cracking blow to the temple with the thick end of the pole. The assassin went limp, completely out cold.
    Reynik heaved a sigh of relief and staggered over to the wall of the nearest house. He let the wooden shovel handle fall to the ground and then he sat down with his back against the wall to
catch his breath. He touched his left upper arm where the assassin’s knife had cut him, wincing as pain lanced up through his shoulder. There was a rapidly growing area of dampness on his
shirt where the blood was flowing unchecked.
    ‘It wouldn’t do to pass out from blood loss,’ he thought dully. ‘I’d better bandage it before it gets too bad.’
    His chest was still heaving from his exertions. First the run and then