Chapter XIX

Lost Like Smoke, a Daggerpoint Conversion

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Raven of Knives

a novel

By Dante Zaal

Chapter XIX

Lost Like Smoke, a Daggerpoint Conversion

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In the dark of the door stood a towering man. The doctor strained to see his shrouded face. 

Lowering his head to duck beneath the wooden frame, the Legate stepped into the silent tavern. 

The doctor hadn’t noticed he’d been absent, so distracted had he been by the bard’s song. The bard himself had used the sudden noise to slink away, lost into the crowd like curling smoke.

The Legate marched without a word to where the doctor sat, hauling him with force onto his feet.

“Come with me.”

Behind him strode his second-in-command, a short and lethal figure known as Sforza. With the Legate and the captain, the doctor crossed the room. They led him down a creaking flight of steps. Gradually, the din of the main room began to rise, and the three men stood by torchlight in the cellar.

“And this?” inquired Sforza. His small voice was quick and dry. From his sleeve he drew the rolled up wanted poster. 

The doctor broke a sweat. His instincts narrowed into terror. All that he could think to do was back away. Sforza began laughing, and within a flash was armed. He held his knife against the doctor’s neck. “So it’s you then, in the poster? What a fucking joke this is. That prince has got his head right up his ass.” 

The Legate watched in silence with impassive, heavy eyes.