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assignments like all the others, which I expect you to fulfil. They will be made more difficult because of the bounty on your head, but that is your
problem. If I were in your position, I would avoid taking on any business outside of your Guild duties. It would be best to wait until the dust has settled and the bounty hunters have given up
chasing shadows.’
    ‘Yes, Master.’
    The Guildmaster turned to leave.
    ‘But, Master?’
    ‘Yes, Brother Dragon?’ he answered, pausing and looking back over his shoulder.
    ‘What about the spy who exposed Brother Falcon and me? It is ultimately her fault this situation has arisen. It is she who is responsible for the Guild being pronounced
anaethus
drax.
Will she be punished for her actions?’
    For a moment the Guildmaster said nothing. When he did speak, he began by quoting in the chanting strains of the creed. ‘
I will never kill for pleasure, revenge, in anger, or out of
jealousy.
We are not going to take revenge, Brother Dragon. That would lower us to the gutter. Don’t even think about the spy. She is as ancient history to you now. Spend some time
reciting and contemplating the creed again tonight, Brother. Make it sing in your blood. Ignore it and you will die. It is that simple.’
    Shalidar bowed his head in acceptance and the Guildmaster walked swiftly from the room, his black robes merging quickly into the shadows of the corridor outside. When Shalidar’s head came
up, there was a set of defiance on his face that would have chilled even the Guildmaster’s blood.
    The meeting had been a dangerous gamble for Shalidar. He had thrown the dice of life with an outward confidence not mirrored by his heart. He had thrown and won again. Rather than come back
straight away, some in his position might have travelled to foreign lands and utilised their talents there. There was always a demand for talented assassins. But Shalidar knew that if he had done
this, he would always have been the outsider. Suspicion would always have fallen at his feet if there were trouble. It was human nature to suspect the stranger. Coming back to Shandrim was fraught
with difficulties, but Shalidar knew how to blend in here. True, it was dangerous – particularly with the huge bounty the Emperor had placed on his head – but every road held danger in
his chosen profession. It was only the degree that varied.
    Drawing back his sleeve, he contemplated the gleaming silver wristlet that bound him to the Guild. The engraved dragon there appeared to mock his inspection. There were times when he wished he
could take it off and throw it away, but he knew that to do so was to invite instant death. In accepting his icon, he had bound himself to the Guild for life, or until he was retired by the
Guildmaster. His life force was magically tied to the wristlet. He did not know how. It had never been fully explained. He could remove it, but he could move no more than a few paces from it
without his life being forfeit.
    There had been some who had tried to run in the past, but they had all returned, or died. The icons had to be placed against the binding stone once every year. If this contact was not made to
refresh the bond, the icon automatically returned to the binding stone the moment the year was up. Unless the current holder of the icon was standing next to the stone at the time, he died
instantly. As a safeguard against infiltrators, new members of the Guild were not told of this limitation until an initial probationary period had been completed. Shalidar remembered the shock he
had felt when he had been told. It had left him wondering what other secrets the Guildmaster held. Although the Guild could not forcibly cause him to return to the headquarters at any particular
time, he could no more leave the Guild than he could learn to fly.
    By long-standing tradition, Guild members met to refresh their icons at midsummer’s eve and midwinter’s eve every year. Those who could not be there