"When you dance, tell the people to kill Bruschloss and his two men, immediately. Orders from your ruler. Bruschloss is a traitor, tell them."
Aghast: "I could not...."
"Would you rather die?"
"The ruler will know...."
"You show me where he is sitting. I'll take care of him. If you should give the wrong message when you dance ... if they should turn on me, I'll still manage to kill you before they get me. So it's entirely up to you whether you live or die." He recognized acceptance in her bowed neck. "I want you to show me how the dance works. Show me the motions, the gestures you use to explain plans for the attack."
Chemin gazed obliquely at him with tormented eyes. Then she crossed her wrists and moved her fingers in a fluttering motion. "This is the sign for a small peninsula south of here, on the strait. This ..." She pantomimed again. "... is the sign which means meeting place. This...." And so she rehearsed the various signals, and then the message Koven had issued, while he kept his pistol trained on her. He knew now what had alarmed Bruschloss, what had prompted the attack so suddenly.
Chemin danced, in the ring again. Koven stood almost directly behind the ruler, fitting a tiny cylindrical attachment to the muzzle of his pistol, to reduce the power for close range. Once more the men glued their eyes on the dancing figure. Seconds after the dance had begun, the ruler uttered a sharp gasp and lurched up from his woven chair as he read the new message. Koven's hand touched him and he stepped around the chair in the darkness. Koven slid the pistol forward and triggered it. Only a faint white glow showed flush against the belly of the ruler. With the smell of burned flesh eating in his nostrils, Koven lowered the ruler's body to the ground. The crowd to either side had surged forward slightly, beginning to talk curiously now, paying no attention to Koven. Across the ring, Bruschloss blinked and gestured sweatily, while his two assistants closed in tight against his shoulders. The drums slapped in a frenzy.
