by Jayden Woods
*
“What else did you tell him?” grumbled Leonard Khan. “What the hell did the two of you say?”
Within the carriage, Sean could hardly breathe, much less keep his wits about him. Why must he meet the khan here? It was so dark that he could have kept his mask on and no one would have known the difference. The khan himself was just a bright blur in the corner. Only one candle burned next to him, and this barely illuminated his bear-skin clothes, his Khan Collar of rubies and steel, and his stark white hair. Meanwhile, the strange smoke from Picard’s cigar filled the carriage with its glittery billows, and something about its smell bothered Sean very much. His nose itched and his head spun.
“If you’re unhappy with my performance,” Picard told his father, “then next time do it yourself.”
“Yes I will,” growled the khan, “then I’ll strip you of your archonship.”
Picard chuckled, pouring out another stream of smoke. “I look forward to the day.”
The khan coughed and turned back to Sean, who still knelt awkwardly on the metal floor of the carriage. “So, you’re the last Wolven left?”
Sean’s fingers dug into the cloth of his tunic. “No. I don’t think so.”
“But if there are any others left,” said Leonard Khan, “they’ve gone renegade.”
Sean forced his voice through gnashing teeth. “That is not for me to say.” He honestly didn’t know how many of his bloodline were left. He knew only of his sister, Shora, who had left many years ago to explore other continents. She remained committed to her ancestors’ cause of destroying the Violenese bloodline, but unlike most, she believed that the people of the purple-hair may have originated somewhere else in the world.
“Well,” sighed the khan and Polemarch, “I really don’t give a shit anyway. All I care about is whether you’re as devoted as your father to wiping the Violenese family from the face of the earth. Are you?”
Sean bowed his head, wishing more than ever that he wore a mask just to hide his torn expression. What could he say? He didn’t know that answer, himself. But perhaps what he really felt didn’t matter. His father had always taught him that an employer should never know a Wolven’s feelings at all. “I am committed to my assignments,” he said. “It is as simple as that.”
Leonard Khan made a little grunt of uncertainty.
Picard stepped forward between his father and Sean. His gloved hand twitched against his side. “I think this is a very good response.” He spoke as if to the both of them. “I have heard that the relationship between the Wolvens and Violenese has often been misunderstood, anyway. Some believe that your own ancestors, Sean, never really swore to eradicate the Violenese race. They were merely very good at it, and because the Violenese posed such a problem for others, they became a common assignment for the Wolvens. Others believe your families were enemies long ago because you worshiped opposing gods. Who knows?”
Sean shifted uncomfortably. He did not like the fact Picard addressed him by his first name. Nor that he appeared to know more about the Wolvens than Sean himself. Worse, Picard seemed to be gloating about it.
“In any case,” Picard went on, “it is important for us to know that you will pursue this cause not for your own purposes, but for ours. After all, right now we only desire the death of Prince Kyne. Isn’t that right, Father?”
Leonard Khan grumbled under his breath.
“I have to piss,” said Richard suddenly. Then he lumbered out of the carriage. No one seemed to care. His absence gave them a little more space to breathe.
“You see,” Picard turned back towards Sean, “Gray Wolven did succeed in killing King Joyhan of Dearen and his wife. Only the two royal children remain: Prince Kyne and Princess Fayr. They had both been assigned to your father. However, right now we only want you to kill Prince Kyne.”
Sean lowered his head even further. If he could, he would have sunk through the floor and scampered away from here. “His assignments become my own. It is the Wolven way. If you already told him to kill the royal family, then I will succeed where he failed.”
“You Wolvens!” Leonard Khan laughed and slapped his knee. “I love your way of doing business.”
Sean felt dizzy again. A very pleasant smell had filled the air, one he hadn’t been able to place until now. It reminded him of the fruit-filled pastries his mother used to bake him as a child. But how could that be? He looked over at the glittering smoke flowing from Picard’s lips. When Picard first started smoking the cigar, the smell struck Sean as bitter and unpleasant. Yet the more he breathed it, the more he liked it.
“I will … complete … the assignment,” he grumbled at last.
“Relax,” sighed Picard. “No one’s asking you to break your precious principles. We had not yet paid your father a single gold penny. That is also the Wolven way, is it not? No payment until completion? So think of it this way: you have inherited your father’s assignment, but you will not kill the princess until we say so.”
“I don’t understand,” said Sean. “Do you want her dead or don’t you?”
The glow of Picard’s cigar faded. He had smoked it down to a stub. With a flick of his mechanical hand, he threw the paper wrapping to the floor, then smashed it with his foot. His voice had a new edge to it as he said, “What we want is none of your concern. Do as we say and we’ll pay you your fucking fee.”
“Picard!” yelled his father.
Sean continued to stare in a daze at the glittery remains of the cigar. As the smoke cleared, so did his head. “In that case,” said Sean, “I will require the payment for the first two assignments. Now.”
“What?” Leonard Khan leaned forward.
“Each kill is an assignment,” Sean intoned habitually. “I will collect my father’s payment for the first two kills. Then I will kill Prince Kyne, and I will receive that payment. Then I will take no further action unless you tell me to. If you choose not to kill Princess Fayr, I will receive no further payment, and our business will be concluded.”
“The other Wolven agreed to a lump sum!” yelled the khan. “A lump sum! We agreed!”
“These are my terms,” said Sean.
“He’s being quite reasonable,” Picard said to his father. “The terms of our original arrangement have changed. After all, I am sure Sean needs some money now for his own expenses: anti-safra and such. That is the key to a Wolven’s success, and comes all the way from the kingdom of Yamair. Isn’t that right, Sean?”
Sean glared at the cocky archon with the full sharpness of his bright red eyes, too furious to respond. How the hell did he know about anti-safra?
“And what if we don’t accept your terms?” asked Leonard Khan.
Sean had been waiting for an opportunity like this: an opportunity to show off his prowess. An opportunity to wipe the smile from Picard’s round, dimpled cheeks. So he pounced sideways, grabbed Picard’s arms, and twisted his body around. In a flash he twisted one wrist behind Picard’s back while he probed the fleshy skin of Picard’s throat with sharp metal.
“Then I have no more business with you,” said Sean over Picard’s shoulder.
Picard made a strange little whimpering sound. He did not make much of a struggle, and he felt almost like jelly under Sean’s grip. Sean flinched when he realized that the wrist he held belonged to the right arm: the one that deviated from anatomical norms, the one covered with a glove that twitched and creaked with its various straps and bolts. Nonetheless, Sean recognized the feel of flesh under the leather: flesh that felt pain. So he did not relent.
“Easy, now,” said Leonard Khan. “I meant no disrespect.”
“If you don’t pay what you owe me,” said Sean, “then I take the money by force.”
“No need for that,” said Picard. His voice wavered and his body trembled. The joints of his mechanical hand twitched under Sean’s grip. “Right, Father?”
“I am sorry if we offended you, Wolven,” said the khan, though he sounded more annoyed than any
thing. “We will pay you your fee.”
“There, you see?” Picard gulped, pushing his throat even harder against the metal. “Are you going to let me go now?”
Sean wanted very much to slit Picard’s throat. Perhaps it was just habit, or perhaps it was something worse. He did not usually let people free once he had them under his blade. Furthermore, this fellow had an air to him that got under Sean’s skin, like a spider he wanted to smash under his boot. Unfortunately, this fellow was also the son of the khan of all Vikand.
With a fierce shove, Sean released the archon. Picard stumbled and caught himself awkwardly by grabbing the bear-skin walls. The entire carriage rocked from the movement.
This must have gotten the attention of High Chief Richard, for a moment later he pulled open the entrance and peered inside, spilling in strong rays of sunshine. “What’s going on in here?”
“A bit late to be asking,” grumbled Leonard Khan. He must have thought Richard’s presence would have restrained Sean’s behavior. He was wrong about that.
Picard’s face was flushed with fear and exertion. His soft body trembled from head to foot. But his eyes gleamed with a strange delight as they returned to the Wolven, and his lips curled into a smile. “One good turn deserves another, doesn’t it, Wolven? You agreed to kill Prince Kyne, but you did not swear in the name of Belazar. I trust you will do so now in a gesture of good faith?”
Sean’s stomach churned with fear.
Richard and Leonard exchanged puzzled expressions.
“Your father swore the oath,” said Picard snidely. “In fact, as I understand it, all Wolvens are supposed to commit to their kills in the name of Belazar. Is it not true that you Wolvens are as powerful as you are because the blood of Belazar himself runs in your—”
“I will swear.” Sean could barely speak through the gnashing of his teeth. But he preferred anything right now to hearing Picard say another word about ancient Wolven practice. “I will swear the oath to Belazar when I am paid for my father’s kills.”
“Hm.” Picard considered this. He stroked his chin for a moment, then beamed with an innocent smile. “Very well.”
Leonard Khan sighed and settled back into his chair, relieved that the conversation was finally over. “Wait outside, Wolven. Someone will bring you the money shortly.”
Sean bowed, then all but ran out the carriage.
