One more shift of the city watch and the sun would begin to rise, filling the void left by the moon’s departure. But until then, darkness ruled. Two half-ores, concealed by the magic woven into their armor, climbed the sheer wall of Klarsamryn. They moved slowly, silently. There were far too many guards on duty that night to be careless. At the top of the wall, the two assassins waited, listening. When the time was right, they nodded to one another, and as one they slipped over the edge and onto the king’s personal terrace. Without a sound they slit the throats of the two guards standing outside the door. With barely more than a whisper, they did the same to the two inside the room. Stalking across the floor, they reached the side of the king’s bed where they unwrapped their specially prepared blades. Had the king been awake, he would have seen the two half-ores silhouetted against the last of the moon’s light coming in through the open glass door. He would have seen them lift their knives, dripping with poison.
