Exploitable Weaknesses Brian Keller (e reader pdf best TXT) 📖

the reddish hair. The one who came around every few days to collect coin and information from his new House Father. “Rukle. I think that’s the other one’s name”, Bennet thought, “He’s the one who chopped off my old House Father’s head.” He hadn’t forgotten that and was sure he never would. Helping to drag the heavy, uncooperative, headless body to the river had created quite a lasting memory. He couldn’t say he missed the man, there was no sentiment there. In fact, he seldom felt any emotions other than fear, desperation and dread; and most of those were inextricably tied to hunger.

Bennet kept a curious eye on events as they unfolded. He couldn’t understand why a Guild Assassin would speak with soldiers from the City Watch but perhaps the patrol had been bribed. He wondered how much it would cost to bribe a patrol and imagined how long he could feed himself with that much coin. Whatever was going on, it was sure to be worth watching. After about twenty minutes the patrol began marching back to the west. As they approached three men, two Watchmen silently drew their swords and separated themselves slightly, allowing space to swing them, if needed. They quickly closed in on the three men as several of the locals responded to bared weapons by scattering. Before the three men could react they were hemmed in between the Watch and the bay. One of the men opted for the bay. Without hesitation he dove in and began swimming toward a neighboring pier. The two others were held at sword point and clapped in irons before they could react. As soon as they were secured, one of the soldiers put something to his lips and a piercing squeal could be heard all along the boardwalk. A team of the Secret Police (why anyone would think of them as “secret” was something he’d never understand) responded and the soldier pointed them to the next pier and extended his arm aloft and held up a single finger. Bennet looked back to where the Guild Assassin had been standing. He was already gone.

Cooper wondered what, if anything, would come from the subsequent questioning of the drug peddlers. He expected the City Watch would turn them over to the Spymaster. Aporigh would eventually begin questioning the men of the Watch about the sudden windfall of reliable information. Cooper felt confident that once the Spymaster learned that these reports came from a person with a similar description, he’d naturally want to learn more about his new Waterfront informant. A man in his position would be incurably curious, and made his living by finding connections that others would overlook. Cooper knew he was playing a dangerous game. He needed to appear knowledgeable and motivated, but harmless; but taken too far he’d appear too good to be real and that would cause the Spymaster to simply issue orders to have him captured and brought in for questioning. He could avoid capture surely enough, but that would reveal more about himself than he wanted. He needed to be seen as a regular young man from the Waterfront who happened to bear a grudge against the drug traders. If the Spymaster accepted that premise, he’d likely be inclined to seek out this young man to hire him, and that’s exactly what Cooper wanted.

*****

She couldn’t understand Aporigh’s excitement or his insistence that she accompany him. After several months of his broodiness and unpredictable moods, this was a welcome change. She seldom saw him anxious enough to fidget while he walked, but it seemed that he had more energy than he knew what to do with, and his fidgeting was a result of that overflow. She supposed she should be grateful. Many of her former classmates at the University, when excited or agitated, would use their Talent to build power and either let it bleed off or spend it in a cathartic burst. Either way, that kind of directionless use of Talent in her presence usually gave her a headache.

She had to walk swiftly in order to keep up. Several staircases and connecting hallways later and it became apparent that he was leading her to the dungeon. The Palace dungeons differed in almost all ways from the cells of Serpent Tooth Prison. By comparison, the cells in the palace were almost closer to rooms one would rent at an inn, if it could be overlooked that one wall was made of bars and the other walls, floor and ceiling were bare stone.

Iona couldn’t help but inquire, “Sir, I hope you’re not moving me to new accommodations?” At this, Yoren even managed a brief smile, “No. I’m taking you to meet someone.” She couldn’t help wondering who it might be. Perhaps the Guild Assassin, the one who called himself “Grief” had revealed something and had been moved here from the island prison. Yoren led her down the final steps revealing a long hallway lined with cells. A few soldiers from the City Watch were standing in the hall, speaking with baiting, mocking tones to a few of the inmates.

Instead of the Spymaster directing her to the cells, he led her to the soldiers. They snapped to attention at his approach and he ordered them, “At ease. I’ve brought her here” he gestured to Iona, “so that you could tell her what you’ve told me. Exactly what you’ve told me.” The guards exchanged looks of apprehension, obviously deciding among themselves as to which of them should speak. One of them cleared his throat, “Uh… Milady?” Yoren managed not to chuckle as he informed the men, “This is Iona. My assistant. She is not noble born.” The soldier clicked his heels and nodded to the Spymaster, acknowledging the information, and continued, “Miss, we was patrolling the boardwalk, on orders an-” Yoren cut him off, “Nevermind all that.” He turned to Iona, “I’ll summarize briefly. These soldiers were approached with information leading to the