"So, you've failed."
"Mr. Mordreth, please. It wasn't my fault. Those idiots the commissioner gave me were barely worth the time it took to call them. Please," The man, got on his knees, "Give me another chance."
Padan Fain had arrived in the city shortly after learning that Cauthon was supposed to be there. He thought about the man's plea for a moment. "No." He said, slashing at the man's hand with his dagger. He drew back, but the damage was done. Quickly a black rot took hold on his hand and spread. Within moments he was dead, and the corruption had taken over more than half his body. Just behind him, the Myrdraal watched silently. Fear wasn't a common expression on the eyeless face of a Myrdraal, but that was the unmistakable expression the thing donned every time Fain looked at it. "You had best do better than he did."
Elsewhere:
Mat was impressed. Eragon fought, and fought well. He might be the best fighter he had seen, perhaps even better than Lan or Rand. Mat wondered briefly if he could win in a bout against Eragon. Part of him wanted to find out, but most of him knew that was a bad idea. The last time he had fought in a practice bout he had almost killed his two opponents. No, if he fought Eragon, it would only be to the death. "Tai'shar asha'man." he said softly.