second kick to the side allowed him to reach the sill of a window beside the door and from there he dropped the remaining few feet to the ground. He stepped back and checked the street for watching faces, but it was deep into the night and there were none. His descent from the roof had been virtually silent, with nothing more than a shoe scuffing on the stone.
The others followed, perfectly mirroring his actions.
Lomin was a compact city of tight, weaving streets and alleys, so close to the Great Forest that the inhabitants didn’t have the luxury of expanding beyond the city’s current boundary. The local laws were enshrined on the assumption of periodic siege, so nothing was permitted outside the thick stone walls, and the city elders had gone so far as to connect many of the largest buildings within the city to provide a second line of defence, should it ever be needed.
Venn was already within the inner city, where most of the temples could be found, and from there it was a simple thing for the Harlequins to make their way to the Grand Square in the north-western corner, avoiding Lomin’s Keep, the ducal residence.
The Grand Square itself was a misnamed, misshapen amalgamation. Centred on a monument to a past duke, it presently consisted of three expanses of open ground: the market to the north, the Temple District, that straddled the western piece, and a chaotic mass of open-air taverns and eateries in the southeast. There were some buildings in the Temple District, but they were all small and well spaced, so it looked more a part of the square than the rest of the cramped city.
Apart from the multi-level many-roofed Temple of Nartis that marked the boundary between the secular and spiritual parts of the square, the temples were all single-storey constructions. Several were strung together and enclosed garden-shrines that the locals flocked to, but this night even the Temple of Etesia, Goddess of Lust, was quiet. The red and purple lanterns hanging from the temple’s eaves swayed gently in the breeze, and Venn heard only soft snores from within as he passed.
He slipped into the jagged shadows of Vasle’s temple, any sound masked by the burble of water. The newest addition to the district was directly ahead of him, facing the cross-shaped Temple of Death on the edge of the square. The Wither Queen’s wooden temple looked poor by comparison; but for the sharp grey-blue painted spire rising from the centre of the peaked roof it could have been a sombre-looking barn.
The roof and walls were black and the shutters covering the windows grey-blue. It looked far from welcoming, not least because of the dead garlands hanging from each corner of the temple.
‘Spread out, keep a watch for soldiers while I deal with the temple,’ Venn commanded Capan and Marn.
Neither Harlequin argued as he set off, skirting the building to ensure there was no one awake nearby. The temple had been guarded earlier, but only by two soldiers stationed on the nearer side, either side of the door. He slipped on a black hood and crept forward, using the spire as a guide.
When he reached the last piece of cover Venn paused. He had no doubt that he could kill both soldiers with ease, but he didn’t want to risk them shouting as he did so. He climbed the low building he was hiding behind and crouched on the thatch roof, keeping the peak between him and the guards as he drew his swords. Then he walked along the roof’s supporting beam until he was at the peak and peered over the top: the two guards were lazing almost exactly where he’d pictured them.
Venn took a deep breath and launched himself forward, cresting the roof and sprinting down the other side, leaping from the edge with one sword raised. He landed a little from the nearer guard and slashed his sword into the man’s neck as he passed. The man had barely begun to turn when Venn opened his throat; he released his sword, dipped his left shoulder and rolled, bringing his legs under him and pushing hard to drive him onwards. He was back on his feet and lunging forward at the second guard in the same moment, but the man had not moved more than an inch when Venn’s slender sword pierced his heart like a stiletto.
The former Harlequin made up the ground in a flash and grabbed the soldier by the