Munif watched from the shadows as the squat man quickly packed clothes into a canvas travel bag. Danoir was so absorbed in his task—so relieved that he had escaped death—that he didn't react as Munif moved silently closer. He didn't turn even as Munif pulled his blade and stabbed him at the base of the neck.
Munif ran it through, hard and downward, severing bone, flesh and nerves. He could hear the muted gurgling of blood pouring into the man's throat. The death spasm was strong, clamping down as Munif struggled to pull the steel blade out. Danoir fell to the floor.
Munif paused, his senses alert.
He'd followed Danoir to the stables, hoping to overhear the conversation, but was unsuccessful. Still, it was clear the conspiracy went very high. Many had to be involved—perhaps even the lord of Tivisis himself. After Danoir left the stables, Munif followed him to his rundown flat and waited until nightfall.
Munif searched the disheveled room, but found nothing of use. He kicked a scattering of coins away and then thought better of it. With the lifeless eyes of Danoir staring back at him, Munif searched through the dead man's clothing, finding a small vial. He pocketed it, then gathered up the coins and dropped them into a small pouch.
Finding bread and water in one of the larders, he ate wolfishly, hoping to satisfy the pangs of hunger he'd been feeling for the past hour. The coppery smell of the man's blood did nothing to put off his appetite. When Munif finished, he rummaged through the wardrobes and found some linen cloth that he could use as bandages for his wounds. They would be loose on his legs, but not cumbersome.
One traitor down, one more to go, he thought.
Munif knew exactly where to find him.
YOU ARE READING
Arabesque
FantasyA brutal assassin, a drug-addicted spy, and a vengeful widow are embroiled in a potentially world-shaking conspiracy. A fantasy thriller that has echoes of both A Game of Thrones and The Da Vinci Code, Arabesque races across the brilliant white sand...
