They were also slightly less intelligent than he was. This is a quality you should always pray for in your would-be murderer. -- Terry Pratchett, Men at Arms

Assassins were a dime a dozen in Tananerl. When someone was short of money, or intensely disliked a public figure, or felt they or their tribe weren't being treated fairly, or were simply a bloodthirsty psychopath, they invariably chose assassination as a potentially profitable career.

Ilaran had survived over a hundred assassination attempts in his first ten years as ruling prince. In the centuries since then he'd experienced so many more they'd become practically part of his weekly schedule. Occasionally he actually did add them to his schedule, because sometimes the only way to keep sane amidst insanity was to turn it into a joke. On those days his schedule read something like: Sign documents, meet ambassadors, kill today's assassin, investigate latest market brawl. What other people would have thought if they knew how calmly he treated the whole thing was something he considered only when he was in dire need of something to laugh at.

When you spent most of your life knowing someone somewhere was planning to kill you, you developed a sixth sense for when the next attempt was likely to happen. Ilaran knew perfectly well that he had essentially painted a target on his back when he had Haliran arrested. All of her accomplices would come crawling out of the woodwork looking for vengeance. And that was the very reason he knew he was perfectly safe.

It was strange but true that most assassination attempts were carried out by disgruntled amateurs. The rare successful attempts were more cases of the murderer having unexpected good luck and their victim having even more unexpected bad luck. Even professional assassins were prone to mistakes, overconfidence, and just plain stupidity.

Take this situation, for instance. Haliran's friends would be panicking and running around like headless chickens. They would want him dead as quickly as possible, before he had a chance to denounce them too. Obviously they had no time to come up with a plan. He, on the other hand, expected their attack and had already considered how to deal with it.

Ilaran wasn't at all surprised when the first attempt came. He was mildly surprised at just how idiotic it was.

Siarvin and Shizuki were poring over a map of Tananerl. Koyuki sat in the corner closest to the still-burning fire, with the uncomfortable air of someone who felt badly out of place and didn't know what to do with themselves. Ilaran sat next to the window. He made sure he was just out of sight of anyone looking in, while he could still see and hear what was happening outside.

The sitting room window overlooked a well-tended lawn that formed part of the palace gardens. The nearest tree was more than ten feet away. A carefully-trimmed hedge separated it from the lawn itself. No one could possibly approach from that angle without being spotted at once.

Haliran's friends were apparently even less intelligent than she was. The would-be assassin scurried across the lawn with a furtive air that would have drawn attention anywhere. They'd made a truly ludicrous attempt at disguising themselves as what might charitably be mistaken for a gardener. Far from being convincing they just looked as if they'd fallen in a mud puddle while on their way to a fancy-dress party.

Ilaran waved Siarvin over, not daring to speak in case the assassin heard. Siarvin guessed what was happening without being told. He peered out the window, taking care to stay a safe distance away. Koyuki and Shizuki realised something interesting was afoot. In their snake forms they slithered onto the window-sill. All four watched the assassin approach.

From his appearance it was obvious this was one of those clumsy amateurs. He was a portly middle-aged man who couldn't have looked more suspicious if he'd tried. The very badly-concealed pistol strapped at his waist was so obvious it wasn't even threatening. When assassins hid their weapons then they posed a mild challenge. Ilaran took one look at the gun and rolled his eyes. Of all the absurd weapons to kill someone with! Knives and arrows were silent, poison was insidious and gave the killer a chance to escape, drowning could be passed off as an unfortunate accident. But guns! They were the noisiest, most conspicuous method of killing someone that could be imagined. And they couldn't even be easily hidden in the way a knife could.

Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face. Siarvin gave him an incredulous look.

He whispered, "Are you enjoying this?"

"Other people's stupidity is always entertaining," Ilaran murmured.

The man took his gun out of its holster. It promptly slipped out of his hands. Ilaran didn't even try to hide his grin.

"He's planning to kill us," Siarvin said, in the tone of one who was gradually realising they were the only sane person in the room.

"He will fail. Look at him!"

The man had finally managed to pick up the gun and aim it at the window. Koyuki and Shizuki quickly reconsidered their choice of vantage-points. They slithered off the window-sill and took cover under the table. Siarvin and Ilaran retreated to the other side of the room.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Siarvin rubbed his eyes. "Is he really going to shoot through a window... into a darkened room... without even checking we're here?"

Ilaran shrugged. "Obviously. We're in more danger from broken glass than from him."

Right on cue the man fired the gun. The window shattered into a thousand fragments. Ilaran telekinetically shoved them all to the floor before they could hurt anyone. The sound of running footsteps showed the man was getting away.

A long black snake darted out from under the table and disappeared through the now-glassless window. It was quickly followed by a shorter green one. A high-pitched shriek showed Koyuki and Shizuki had caught the would-be assassin.

----------------------------------------

It was all very well for Irímé to say he was going to talk to someone saner than Abi. The problem with that, he realised a few minutes later, was that he didn't know many people who fit that description.

Kitri? He barely knew her. Kiriyuki? He knew her even less. Abi's siblings? The mere thought made him shudder. The servants? They owed no loyalty to him and would gossip about anything he said. His mother? Oh gods no. So there was only one person left: Ilaran.

True, he didn't know Ilaran very well either. They had only met a few days ago, after all. But when someone helped you hide a walking corpse, you quickly found yourself thinking of them as a very good friend even if you'd never exchanged more than two words before. Besides, he could use this as an opportunity to ask Ilaran about something he'd been considering for many years. So he set off for Gihimayel Palace.

He stopped to ask the guard for directions. It turned out there were a surprising number of visiting nobles staying at Gihimayel Palace. He had assumed it was reserved solely for diplomats and royals and was therefore virtually empty. In fact the place was nearly full with the empress's distant cousins and people with no relation to her at all.

"Which Ilaran?" the guard asked. "There were seventeen here last time I checked."

Irímé blinked. He'd known Ilaran was a common name[1], but hadn't realised it was that common. "I mean Prince Ilaran of Tananerl."

"Oh, that Ilaran! Turn right over there and--"

An ear-splitting bang interrupted the guard. She and Irímé jumped in unison.

"What was that?" the other guard asked, poking his head out of the guardhouse while still trying to drink his cup of tea.

The first guard ran in the direction of the sound without stopping to answer him. Irímé followed. He ignored the niggling little voice that warned him running towards mysterious sounds might not be the wisest thing to do.

He and the guard rounded the corner just in time to see a man running for his life. Two strange shapes pursued him. At first Irímé's brain couldn't make sense of what his eyes were seeing. The shapes looked like... garden hoses?

"Out of the way!" the man screamed at them.

One of his strange pursuers caught up with him as he drew closer. It wound itself around his legs, tripping him and flinging him to the ground. With a shudder Irímé realised what it was: a huge black snake. It bit the man's arm. The other snake bit his other arm. He let out an anguished howl.

The guard finally recovered from her shock. She sprang into action at once.

"Get away, you brutes!" she yelled at the snakes, drawing her sword and waving it around her head.

The snakes reared up and hissed at her. She turned pale and took a step back. For want of anything better to do Irímé waved his arms at them.

"Shoo! Shoo!" he shouted, as if he was shooing a stray dog away.

To his own surprise they meekly turned and slithered away. Within seconds they disappeared into the grass.

By now the other guard had arrived. Judging by the cup in his hand and the tea-stains on his uniform he had attempted to finish his tea while running. The two of them picked up the man and dragged him off towards the gate. One of them shouted at the top of her lungs for a doctor.

Irímé looked round to make sure the snakes weren't still around. He came face-to-face with the little boy who'd appeared at the trial. Irímé yelped and jumped back.

Where did he come from?

The boy stared up at him through eerily unblinking eyes. Rather snake-like eyes. In fact everything about him was rather snake-like.

Irímé remembered the giant snake threatening Haliran. He remembered it turning into this boy. And he remembered the colour of one of the snakes that had attacked the man a few minutes ago. He paled.

The boy peered up at him curiously. "You smell funny."

Under any other circumstances Irímé would have assumed that was a personal insult. Coming from a boy who could turn into a snake at will, it seemed less insulting and just plain weird. "Er... What do you mean?"

"You smell like a snake," the boy said slowly, "but not like a snake."

That made no sense at all. Irímé tried to figure it out before giving the whole thing up as a lost cause.

"Is Ilaran at home?" he asked instead, more to get the conversation back to something resembling normality than because he needed an answer.

The boy nodded. He grabbed Irímé's arm and dragged him towards the door a short distance away. Irímé went without protest. He didn't particularly want to be bitten too. Especially not when he didn't know if the man would survive the snake-bites.

The door swung open just as they reached it. Irímé wasn't really surprised to see it was one of the men Ilaran had brought to the trial -- Koyuki, or something like that. He was surprised by the man's reaction. Koyuki's eyes widened and he stared at the boy in horror.

"Shizuki! Let go of him at once!"

"Why?" the boy asked.

Koyuki pulled him away from Irímé, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. He hissed something in Shizuki's ear that sounded oddly like "show proper respect" and "dragon immortal". So many strange things had happened in the last few minutes that Irímé shrugged and dismissed that from his mind.

"What's happening out there? Another assassin?" Ilaran appeared in the doorway behind Koyuki. "Oh, it's you. What's she done now?"

That question conjured up horrible ideas of what Abi might be doing right now. Irímé shuddered and hoped he wouldn't go home to find the place overrun with zombies.

"She's being an idiot again," he said, which was vague enough to cover just about everything and almost certainly accurate too. Then the other part of Ilaran's remarks sank in. "Wait, what do you mean, another assassin?"

Ilaran sighed. "It's a long story. You'd better come in before another of those idiots comes along and shoots you by mistake."