Imperial Assassin Read Free

fist, which rapped the bridge of his nose firmly enough to bring more pain. Nelek staggered back. Before he had a chance to
recover, Reynik had disarmed him and placed his practice blade against the veteran’s throat.
    ‘That’s quite enough of that,’ a stern voice interjected.
    Reynik backed away from Nelek and saluted before turning to face the File Leader. Sidis was looking on with a face like thunder. ‘Nothing new there,’ Reynik thought grimly.
    ‘What exactly do you think you’re playing at, Reynik?’ Sidis asked, his voice filled with outrage and fury. ‘This is a training ground. We do not deliberately attempt to
inflict injuries on our training partners here. You are a Legionnaire, not a back street brawler. You deliberately struck Nelek in the face. Blows to the head are strictly forbidden for good
reason, Reynik. If you think you are above the rules because of your recent mission, then think again. You are hereby placed on restrictions for seven days. Additionally, you are designated to
jacks duty for the same period. Maybe a week of digging toilet trenches will grind some sense of reality into you. If I see you do anything like that again, I’ll not hesitate to have you
transferred out of the Legion. We harbour no snakes here.’
    Reynik said nothing. He looked the File Leader in the eye and saluted him, but he did so in the most perfunctory manner. Sidis turned and stalked off.
    Inside, Reynik was seething, but there was nothing he could do. He knew Sidis well enough to know that the man already disliked him. Protesting would only make matters worse. The fact that Nelek
had struck at his head with a training sword mere seconds before was irrelevant. All he could do was to accept the punishment and try to avoid further altercations.
    ‘Amazing!’ he thought, sick to the stomach. ‘I’ve been back little more than an hour and already I’m in a whole mess of trouble!’
    ‘Ready for another bout,
boy
?’ Nelek sneered.
    For a moment, anger erupted inside Reynik as if someone had lit a heavily oiled torch in his belly. He clamped down on the feeling with an iron discipline, replacing the heat of anger with a
cold, calculating fury. He turned to face Nelek with an icy stare that looked strange on the face of one so young. For a moment the veteran’s snide grin froze on his face, but he was quick to
cover up the discomfort. The trickle of blood from his nose was Reynik’s one consolation. ‘It was a shame I didn’t hit Nelek a fraction higher,’ he thought. ‘A
finger’s width higher and he would probably have sported double black eyes.’
    With a mocking salute, Nelek initiated a new fight and Reynik knew that there was to be no mercy from his opponent now.
    The trumpet call to signal the change of discipline could not come fast enough. By the end of the session, Reynik had taken so many blows to his arms and body that he fully expected to be black
and blue by the evening. The following drill session was agony. Trying to maintain a stiff, smart stance after having been battered with a wooden training sword for half an hour was no small
challenge. He could feel the File Leader’s eyes following him during the session. The sour old soldier was watching for him to put a foot wrong, ready to pounce on him like a cat on a rodent
that had been a trifle too brave.
    Reynik did not oblige him. Somehow he survived to the end of the session without fault, though it took every ounce of concentration he possessed. Even during the march back to tent city, he knew
he could not relax. The sensation of being watched was relentless. It had never been this bad before. Neither during training, nor when he had first joined the unit, had he been forced to endure
such scrutiny.
    If he had been able to focus on anything other than keeping in step and swinging his arms to the regulation height, whilst maintaining the perfect distance from the man in front of him, Reynik
might have noticed the first