1.06

Cord edged up the wall slowly and methodically, carefully inserting each blade into the narrow gap between the large stones and testing that it held. When he was certain that it held he pulled the blade attached to his opposite hand free and reached upward to insert it into the next gap. He was glad that he had spent so many hours training, as he would be in a very difficult position if he ran out of strength before reaching the top of the wall. As it was, his shirt was wet from the effort of the climb despite the cool night air. The climb would be much easier if he could use his feet, but he did not want his feet entangled in climbing gear once he cleared the top of the wall, so he could do no more than wedge the toe of his boot into one or two of the wider cracks he came across. Slowly, methodically he was approaching the top of the wall. He paused after every stone now and listened for guard movements, any sign that his presence had been detected. He was about to reach for a parapet when he heard a faint scrape of leather on stone. That was followed by the instantly identifiable sound of bone grating on bone. Cord was positive that the guard had just been killed, and it had been done quickly and silently. If Cord had not been within a few feet of the guards position he would never have heard it. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of an assassin peering over the parapet and seeing him hanging defenseless so far above the ground. Cord waited, breathing very slowly, and very quietly, staring at the gap in the wall above him.
After a minute of waiting, Cord decided that the assassin must have moved on, and reached up to the parapet. Quietly and carefully he pulled himself up so that he could look beyond. At first he did not see the guard, but then he made out the outline of a man in the deeper shadow against the wall. There was no sign of anyone else along the length of the walkway. Cord slipped through the parapet and dropped down to the walkway, squatting down in the darkest of the shadows. Cord crept over to the outline to confirm his suspicions. The guard was definitly dead, and judging by the angle of his head in relation to his body, the sound Cord heard had been that of a neck being broken. What worried Cord more was that the guard had not seen the assassin approach, and then had had no chance to defend himself when attacked. The assassin was obviously extremely skilled.
Cord had come to the palace with the intent of leaving a message for the King. He had wanted to make it clear that he should be left alone. Now he was in the palace grounds at the same time as a trained assassin, probably heading towards the same target, but with very different goals in mind. He did not favour the King, but he had no desire to see him killed either. The current political climate was very much like dry tinder in the heat of Summer. One spark would send everything up in flames. Civil war would only harm the Kingdom even more. That meant he could not sit idly by while the assassin went to work. He had to try prevent the worst, and he had to do it without being caught by the palace guard. They would think him an assassin the moment they laid eyes on him. Cord shrugged off the small bag he had on his back, and undid the climbing gear on his hands. The climbing gear went into the bag. He pulled his 'zhibo' from the bag. A 'zhibo' resembled hundreds of circular wooden blocks threaded onto a leather cord. Each individual block had a hollow lower section and a narrow upper section so that they would fit into one another. Cord pulled on the leather strip and the pieces slotted into one another until he was holding a cudgel the length of his arm. He pulled the leather tight and then wound it around the bottom block which had a groove in it for that very purpose. A 'zhibo' was only as strong as the wood it was made from and the strip that held it. Cord's was made from steelwood, and held by a copper reinforced strip. It was virtually as strong as a cudgel completely made from steelwood.
Cord breathed in deeply, and let out a slow sigh. Sometimes he wished he did not have such an over-developed sense of right and wrong. It was sure to be his cause of death. Hopefully that would not be this night. He rose from his crouch and tossed his bag through the parapet. Then he quietly made his way along the walkway in search of the assassin...