For a long while I watched as he walked away. Soon after he disappeared from my sight, my mind understood and allowed me to consider what it was now seeing as an unavoidable fact, Kinarin’s presence in my life was more than a coincidence. Regardless of how much its orchestration would remain a mystery until he answered my questions, I could not deny that his presence was of a familial construct. However, be it a grand symphony composed over the years, or a simple elegy resulting from chance, I did not know, and might not ever know.
He walked into town as if he’d been there enough to have it permanently assimilated into his daily routine. His actions left nothing to question. He was there because he was supposed to be there from habit, one that had been developed over years. He knew where things would be because nothing in Haberdale changed much. The market vendors were all the same, as were most of the guards and people. There were a few he did not recognize, but that was normal of any village, town or city. Regardless of how much they did not change, there were always a few new faces to be seen and new stories to be heard. For everyone had a story, including him.
But now was not the time for such indulgences. Now was the time to complete their list and embark on their Journey to Pretago Cor. The Guild Master did not like delays when fulfilling a summons. As such, he did not spend any time nostalgically pausing at any of the familiar landmarks, landmarks that had shown their ability to withstand the tests of time. No, he progressed with a hunting purpose and fixation to the apothecary where he would purchase the necessary herbs and tonics to produce the subduing potion for Hithelyn and Jinola.
“Helorthina’s Tonics” was still inscribed on a sign that still hung in the same place it had above the door years ago. It was more weathered than he remembered, but so was he. He had been here before and hand known Helorthina long ago but was confident she would not recognize his face nor his voice. He was adept at subtly altering them just enough to avoid recognition. He entered through the swinging door that made the same familiar creaking and was welcomed by the familiar chimes that still hung from her ceiling. From a door behind the counter, an elderly woman emerged carrying a cane in her left hand. As Kinarin remembered, she carried it as more of a security blanket than out of necessity. As she walked around to meet him, he noticed that its sound against the floor was absent indicating her limp had gotten better over the years he had been away. However, he knew her sight had not.
“What can I get for you, traveler?” she asked in a voice that reminded him of the quintessential grandmother.
“I have a list, but none of the items are uncommon. Would it suit your disposition if I found them for myself?” he returned gently.
“As you wish, traveler,” she said slowly walking around behind the counter. “I will be here when you are ready to complete your purchase.”
“Thank you,” he said and set upon his task of locating the herbs within her shop. As with all things in Haberdale, Helorthina’s placement of her items did not change and the locations upon her shelves endured into his recollection. It was not long before he held all of them and walked to stand opposite her on the other side of the counter.
“Will that be all, traveler?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you,” he said.
“Are you sure?” she said as her blind eyes stared just over his head.
“Yes, I am sure,” he said.
“Very well,” said Helorthina as she felt each of his items. “That will be fifteen silvers.”
“Is that all?” he asked, expecting the price to be much higher.
“Yes, that will be all,” she said.
He loosened the string on his money pouch and produced twenty silver pieces from it, “Keep the rest. Thank you,” he added as he turned to walk away.
“Thank you, traveler,” she said. Just as he was about to walk out of the door, she added, “it is good to see you back.”
He stopped, turned, and walked back to the counter. “How did you know it was me?”
“You can change many things about yourself, but you cannot change your scent, Kinarin. I would remember that darkly wild musk anywhere” she said as she grinned broadly.
“I trust you will not betray my presence?” he asked.
“What would you do if I did?” she asked. But when he remained silent, she said, “No, I will not betray it. How long will you be staying?” she asked.
“Not long. Only time enough to resupply, then I must be leaving again,” he said.
“She still loves you; you know. Always has,” she said as she placed her hand on his.
“No, I am sure she does not. There was much about me she learned before I could tell her. And I am quite certain she has yet to forgive me,” he said. “But thank you nonetheless.”
“Time is the salve for all wounds, Kinarin. Trust in its passage. Go see her. She will not reject you,” said the elderly woman as she lifted the pressure of her hand from his signaling, she had completed her peace.
“Perhaps in another lifetime, Thina,” Kinarin responded as he turned and walked quickly toward the door. Although he knew he could trust her confidence, he was becoming increasingly uneasy at the prospect of being recognized by one of Haberdale’s less than forgiving inhabitants. So, when he briskly turned the corner, he had become preoccupied with the outlying areas of his vision and did not see that which was right in front of him. After he heard her cries, he looked down and realized he had toppled over a young girl in his haste to be away from the possibility of being recognized.
Panicked because of the attention she was drawing to him, he reacted quickly by bending down and cradling her close in his arms. She could not have been more than five years old, and because of that, she was less concerned with who was holding her in favor of that she was indeed being held and comforted. He began talking to her in hushed and reassuring tones and she responded well by ending her sobs and cries. They remained as such, two strangers, each placing the moment’s trust in the other. He to trust she would not continue to cry, and she that he would continue to assist her. When he thought she was sufficiently calmed down to answer a few questions, he asked her, “Little one, where are your Drahin and Drashin?”
Between muted but deep inhalations, she replied, “I do not know.”
“Are you lost, little one?” he asked in tone just above a whisper.
“Yes,” she said weekly as her crying began to increase again. He looked around nervously but did not see anyone else paying attention to them. Whatever eyes that were initially drawn to the sobbing of a little girl had been averted under the assumption that her father had found her and was now consoling her. Content that they were alone in their moment and none was the wiser to his identity, he said, “There, there little one. It will be ok.”
“No, it will not,” she said, again elevating her desperation at being lost.
“Yes, it will. You will see,” he looked around hoping to find someone who could help her and return her to her parents. He might have done it himself, but if he was discovered, and there was still a good possibility he could be, things would undoubtedly turn much more complicated. About one hundred feet to his right, walking down the central street of the market, Kinarin saw a small patrol of guards. “Look there, little one,” he said as he pointed. “You can walk to those guards coming our way and they will help you.”
“No! If my Drahin finds out I got lost again, he will yell at me!”
Seeing the guards getting closer to him, he tried to convince the little girl she would be ok, “I am sure he will not. If you walk toward those guards, they will help you.”
At his insistence, she began to cry again. He had to do something. It would not do well to have four guards find out that he is not the father of this little girl. No doubt that would begin a sequence of events predictable in their escalation as they would be within all provincial towns. And while under normal circumstances, those not involving a criminal past, he would be able to quickly explain away this situation, he was not convinced he would
meet with the same fortune. For there was nothing normal about his history in Haberdale. He knew he had no choice, “Do not cry, little one. I can help you find your family.”
When he said this, the little girl seemed to perk up instantly. While still battling the reflexive residue of crying, she stood up quickly and grabbed his hand. He risked a glance at the guard patrol and saw that they had been walking straight toward them, but when they saw Kinarin being led away by the girl, they eased whatever suspicions they might have had and halted their forming inquiry. When Kinarin returned his attention to the girl, he saw that she was leading him out of the market area and into the residential areas. Although the little girl did not know this, he was more familiar with the city than she was. But as with all children, she was indulging in her opportunity to show her new friend what she believed to be a new experience for him. She was quite insistent with leading him and certainly did not seem lost at all. The streets were still the same, as were the residences. Although he had to admit, he never saw this side of the town much because it was reserved for the more affluent residents. But that is not to say it was unknown to him altogether. Quite the opposite, it was the very reason for his departure from not only the city of Haberdale, but the heart of her. After making several turns down several streets, the little girl stopped.
“This is my house,” said the little girl. “Can you meet my Drahin and Drashin?” she asked.
“I am not sure I should, little one,” he said hoping to be away from her as soon as possible.
“Please!” she stated. “I can show you my new doll!” she said excitedly and decided not to give him the chance. She gripped more tightly than he though a little girl should be allowed to grip and pulled him toward her door. Because he did not want to create a scene, he allowed himself to be led down their moderate front walkway and up the five small, wooden steps to her porch. The little girl bounded through the front door with excitement shouting, “Drashin, I found a new friend!”
Finally freed from the little girl’s vice like, energetic grip, he saw this as the perfect opportunity to slip out of this situation unseen. He turned to walk back down toward the street, but he saw a patrol of four guards on their leisurely city patrol walking toward him. The guards would probably think nothing of a man leaving a house and walking down the street, but if he was recognized, and there was a good potential for it, there would be little he could do. He decided to take refuge within the house of the little girl and turned to face the door. As he did, he saw it swing open and the little girl emerge holding the hand of a woman he assumed was her mother. Before he had a chance to give her his full attention, he said, “I am sorry for the intrusion, but this little girl is quite,” he left the statement unfinished not because he lacked the words to describe her, but because the returning emotions the sight of her mother produced overwhelmed his normally razor focus.
Standing in front of him, just a door’s threshold away, was the woman he never thought he would ever see again. And certainly, the woman he thought would never want to see him again should the unlikely opportunity manifest as more than the hope of a master assassin. But there she was, silhouetted against the backdrop of a large window behind her that seemed to outline her face highlighting it in the most angelic way; a way that took him back to everything he was before his first kill, and everything he would never be again.
Before either could come to the appropriate emotional response, there was a loud crash just at their feet. The woman had dropped her water jug. Kinarin instantly bent over to help pick it up; however, his efforts were halted when one of the guards called out, “Is everything all right over there?”
As this time, before either of them could affirm that there was either something or nothing at all that required their intervention, Kinarin heard another voice. This one, while it reflected the same masculinity of the guard’s, came from an entirely different direction. “Coleyne? Are you all right?”
Both Kinarin and Coleyne looked to each other with the resignation that the situation had grown beyond either of their abilities to stop. Like a small snowball that begins at the top of the mountain, Kinarin had bent down to assist the young girl he had toppled over in the effort to prevent any unwanted attention. Then, when the snowball had begun rolling and gaining momentum, Kinarin followed the young girl to her home, fully knowing it was escalating, but still believing he could stop it. And now, when the snowball had been allowed to roll and gain enough momentum to turn it into an avalanche, he could do nothing except to stand aside and allow it to crash against the unsuspecting town at the mountain’s base. And that is exactly what he did when the man from inside the house came into his view with the intent of simply checking on the condition of his wife and daughter.
“Coleyne,” he said, “who is this?” Kinarin’s well-honed instincts for escape activated as though he had just completed a successful mark. Part of his instincts were the keen and rapid observation of his surroundings, including the people within. He saw the callouses on the man’s hands and forearm suggesting repeated practice with a bow and arrow, yet they lived well above the status of a hunter and trader. He saw the small scar on his right cheek suggesting that he was no stranger to physical conflict. He glanced behind him and saw a mannequin adorned with armor and decoration above the guards he had seen in the streets. Though he did not recognize this man personally, he knew him to be a commander based on the markings of his uniform; but just how high he had risen, he could not say. And unless he was a familial relation to the Lord of this village, he would possess all the qualities necessary for advancement within the military. Which meant, he was sure to recognize Kinarin.
“He brought our daughter back to us!” she said quickly. “I was just finished thanking him.” She turned to Kinarin, “Thank you kind sir! We appreciate your kindness and hope our daughter was not too much trouble.”
“No, she was not. Such a splendid little one you have here,” Kinarin said as he finished helping the young girl. He stood and was going to begin his exit strategy, but was interrupted when the young girl grappled him around the legs, hugging affectionately.
“Please, Mommy? Can he say for dinner?” she asked as she clung tightly to his legs.
“Oh, no Cisara. I am sure the nice man has things to do today and business to be about. We could not possibly impose on his time any longer than what we already have,” said Coleyne quickly dismissing her daughter’s request. “Is that not so, sir?”
Pausing briefly, Kinarin responded, “Yes. Yes, it is so. I do have much business to attend to today. But perhaps tomorrow I can call upon you for your hospitalities?”
The little girl went through the gambit of emotions from disappointment when her mother denied her request to joy when she heard Kinarin’s response and counter offer. “Really? Mommy, can he? Please?” she said as she drew out the vowel sounds for emphasis.
“If he is available, I guess it is the least we can do to show our appreciation,” she said as she looked back to Kinarin.
“I am sorry, but I did not catch your name?” said the man as he extended his hand. “You are not from these parts.”
“No, indeed I am not,” responded Kinarin as he accepted the man’s hand. He was forced to abide by the social expectations of one removed from anything nefarious. And to respond with anything except the causal nature of their encounter would no doubt raise suspicions beyond what there already was. “My name is Darian, Darian Brosthor. Your name is?”.
“Commander Yullos. It is a pleasure to meet you, Darian. You have my gratitude for the safe return of our little Cisara. This is not the first time she has wandered off when she was in the market with her mother,” he said with a stern look shot to the little girl. “But it had better be the last.”
“I am sorry, Drahin,” she said as she finally let go of Kinarin’s legs and returned to Coleyne’s side.
“Well, we have kept you far too long, good sir. We will await your company tomorrow to show you proper thanks. We do
not want to detain you any longer from your business affairs,” she said as she put an arm around her daughter who nuzzled closer to her mother’s skirting.
Ignoring Coleyne’s lead, Commander Yullos asked, “Where did you say you were from, Dorian?”
“It is Darian, and I do not believe I did,” he answered, noticing the intentional mispronunciation of his fictitious name.
“Indeed, you did not. If you do not mind me asking, how long do you intend to be in Haberdale?” asked the Commander.
“Not much longer. Just enough time to complete my business,” he said as a matter of fact.
“Oh, and how long might that be?” pressed the commander.
“M’lady,” Kinarin said as he turned to address Coleyne, “thank you for your hospitality; but as much as I would like to stay and indulge our conversation further, I do have pressing business to attend to.” He turned around and began to step down the steps leading from their porch but stopped when he saw that the four guards who were patrolling the streets had increased their numbers to ten, weapons now brandished. He instinctively reached for his two swords in anticipation of the battle.
“You would do well to drop your weapons, Drin Martos,” said the commander as he, too, brandished his sword. “We have you surrounded. You cannot escape.”
Kinarin surveyed his surroundings. The ten guards at the end of the walkway would not pose much of a hindrance if their training was on par with the standard guard training throughout the rest of the Silver Empire; and he was sure that it was. Likewise, the ten more guards stationed at each of the ends of the street would be easy enough to evade. He had outrun the city guards in many similar and larger cities all over the empire and believed he could do so again. Posing potentially more of a hindrance was Commander Yullos. Though Kinarin knew he would have more fighting skill than the rest of his guards, he was not sure how much. The ability to emerge victorious from a battle with multiple attackers was due to primarily two distinct influences. Firstly, was the question of how quickly Kinarin would be able to dismiss either the threat of the guards or Captain Yullos. For example, if Commander Yullos was able to maintain Kinarin’s focus with his skill for a prolonged time, then the other guards would have more chances for openings. If, however, he was able to neutralize him without much delay, there would be few openings and fewer opportunities for the guards to be successful. Secondly, and intertwined with the first, is whether or not the participating opponents possessed the necessary patience to properly capitalize on their superior numbers.
Bloodless Page 48
