Discworld – Interesting Times (Terry Pratchett)

The assassin moved slowly through Lord Hong's chambers.

He was one of the best in Hunghung's small but very select guild, and he certainly was not a rebel. He disliked rebels. They were invariably poor people, and therefore unlikely to be customers.

His mode of movement was unusual and cautious. It avoided the floor; Lord Hong was known to tune his floorboards. It made considerable use of furniture and decorative screens, and occasionally of the ceiling as well.

And the assassin was very good at it. When a messenger entered the room through a distant door he froze for an instant, and then moved in perfect rhythm towards his quarry, letting the newcomer's clumsy footsteps mask his own.

Lord Hong was making another sword. The folding of the metal and all the tedious yet essential bouts of heating and hammering were, he found, conducive to clear thinking. Too much pure cerebration was bad for the mind. Lord Hong liked to use his hands sometimes.

He plunged the sword back into the furnace and pumped the bellows a few times.

'Yes?' he said. The messenger looked up from his prone position near the floor.

'Good news, o lord. We have captured the Red Army!'

'Well, that is good news,' said Lord Hong, watching the blade carefully for the change of colour. 'Including the one they call the Great Wizard?'

'Indeed! But he is not that great, o lord!' said the messenger.

His cheerfulness faded when Lord Hong raised an eyebrow.

'Really? On the contrary, I suspect him of being in possession of huge and dangerous powers.'

'Yes, o lord! I did not mean—'

'See that they are all locked up. And send a message to Captain Five Hong Man to undertake the orders I gave him today.'

'Yes, o lord!'

'And now, stand up!'

The messenger stood up, trembling. Lord Hong pulled on a thick glove and reached for the sword handle. The furnace roared.

'Chin up, man!'

'My lord!'

'Now open your eyes wide!'

There was no need for that order. Lord Hong peered into the mask of terror, noted the flicker of movement, nodded, and then in one almost balletic movement pulled the spitting blade from the furnace, turned, thrust …

There was a very brief scream, and a rather longer hiss.

Lord Hong let the assassin sag. Then he tugged the sword free and inspected the steaming blade.

'Hmm,' he said. 'Interesting …'

He caught sight of the messenger.

'Are you still here?'

'No, my lord!'

'See to it.'

Lord Hong turned the sword so that the light caught it, and examined the edge.

'And, er, shall I send some servants to clear away the, er, body?'

'What?' said Lord Hong, lost in thought.

'The body, Lord Hong?'

'What body? Oh. Yes. See to it.'