Rose Boy

Home > Other > Rose Boy > Page 5
Rose Boy Page 5

by Michael-Scott Earle


  I contemplated throwing poisoned caltrops ahead of him, but this would be too easy for my quarry to notice and avoid. I considered pulling out my swords and murdering each of the Dogs in turn, but that was also suicidal.

  I decided to wait. I probably had a few more minutes, perhaps a half of an hour, before the dead Dogs were found. It would only take a few seconds for Raltenor to die if I got close enough. There would be an opportunity soon. I just needed to be patient.

  The white-cloaked figure turned another corner and the guards followed. I slipped around the crossing web of oak support joists and moved a little closer to the last Dog of the procession. The largest room in this direction was the lesser dining hall, and I guessed that the Conqueror might be on his way there for his dinner.

  It would be his last meal.

  I knew a shortcut to the dining hall and dropped from the joist behind the last escort. I was silent in my movement, but the adjacent door that I pushed through made a slight squeak when I entered the room. This was part of the kitchen that served the dining hall, and it buzzed urgently with the preparation of the oncoming feast. There were stacks of grain, crates of fruit, and hanging meat spread through the space, along with dozens of roasting fire pits. The fires were placed beneath exhaust ports that sucked the smoke up through the top of the towers so that the room didn't fill with cooking fumes.

  I guessed that there were thirty slaves concentrating on their tasks. They sped about the massive kitchen with deliberate urgency and cooked with extreme focus. These slaves looked better fed than the four I had seen earlier, and I wondered again at the difference in sanitation between this part of the fortress and the other. It seemed Raltenor was allowing most of Crag Castle to rot, while preserving the nicest segment for himself.

  Slaves didn’t live if they asked questions, so none of the scurrying men or women bothered to even look at me. I walked as if I belonged, and no one thought to comment on my presence or the black garb I wore. In fact, I reasoned that the color of my armor and cloak probably conferred the rank of an elite Dog. I soon reached the other side of the room and scaled the wall to the top of another joist.

  This beam sat next to an exhaust hole for the kitchen that was used to clear out smoke in case the other ports failed. It was a tight fit, but I burrowed through the dusty space easily. Then I came to another storage room filled with dry goods. I listened at the door and entered the side corridor.

  Then I was in the dining hall.

  I guessed I had a few seconds before Raltenor and his lackeys entered. The table was already set with gold and jewel crusted flatware. The ornate decorations lay upon a long white tablecloth, and the strategy of my assassination took seed in my mind.

  I dashed towards the table and slid under the napery beside the largest seat. The door opened as soon as I reached my hiding spot, and I felt my heart hammer in my chest. This was the moment. In a few seconds, Raltenor the Conqueror would sit at the head of the table and I would slam my poisoned blade into his gut. He would die on my blade and my love would be avenged. I had endured twenty-four years of work to reach this moment. My vision spun with excitement.

  I readied my dagger.

  “We have cooked goose, boar, and salmon tonight. What would the Conqueror prefer?” a man spoke, and I saw the thin-soled shoes of a servant walk next to the polished black boots of the man that wore the white fur cloak.

  “Eh,” the voice sighed, and it resonated strangely. The timbre seemed too high-pitched and soft. It didn't matter what his voice sounded like though. He was about to die.

  The decorated chair in front of me was carved with hundreds of beautiful roses, and the servant pulled it away from the table to allow Raltenor to sit. The black boots stepped in front of the chair and the white cloak swirled. My mind focused on the target and I exhaled slowly.

  Then I pushed out from under the table and slammed the dagger into the fucker’s stomach.

  But the point halted as if it had smacked into a wall of solid rock. I looked down at the weapon with surprise, and two realizations became very clear. The first was that my dagger seemed to be broken. The point had cut through the silk shirt over the abdomen of my target, but it had abruptly stopped when it reached the flesh. It was as if Raltenor was made of stone that my blade could not penetrate.

  The second realization was that this was not a man, but a woman. My dagger pushed against a stomach that lay below two perfectly shaped breasts. I looked up at the woman’s face and we stared at each other in surprise. The hood of her cloak had fallen away from her head, revealing flaxen curls. Her eyes shone the color of the ocean, and her look of shock quickly turned into a savage sneer.

  I recognized those eyes.

  “Take him alive. I wish to question him.” The woman in the white cloak commanded, and the Dogs rushed around me like their savage namesakes.

  I also recognized the voice.

  “Another fine job, Rose Boy.” The raven-haired woman tossed a sack of coins at me from across her desk. I caught the bag easily and tested the weight. I knew they were gold coins, and the heft of the purse convinced me that it contained around a hundred. It would be enough to retire comfortably in any corner of the world and live an existence of luxury. I could buy slaves, a grand estate, and even a small harem.

  Such possessions were of no interest to me though. The Spider had given me a dozen of these bags over the last year and I had returned each one to her. I only cared for one possession: the sight of Raltenor the Conquer dying at my feet.

  “How much more do I have to learn?” I tossed the bag back at the woman and she caught it with a smooth elegance.

  “Hummm.” She glanced at the purse and then my face. Her curved smile was wicked, charming, and I knew it had stolen the heart of many foolish men.

  “I have a proposition for you.” She balanced the sack in her hand and the coins clinked against themselves.

  “Oh?”

  “You’ve been a loyal minion. I had originally taken you on against my better judgement but you’ve proven to be my most skilled Mask. You’ll need a few more years to reach Grand Master level, of course.” Her smile grew larger. “There is only one Grand Master in the Guild of the Mask. You would have to kill me and then take my spot.”

  “I don’t wish for that.”

  “Oh, I know Rose Boy. That is where my proposition comes into this conversation.” She set the coin bag down before she leaned back in her chair and crossed her thighs. Her legs were long and toned under the dark silk trousers she wore. “I had once thought about retiring, fleeing this land and then setting up an estate somewhere tropical. That was actually my intention before you came into my service, and the conquests of Raltenor only made the idea seem more plausible.”

  “Do you still wish to retire?” I knew that the Guild of the Mask had come upon hard times with the expansion of Raltenor’s empire. Most of the assassination guilds also suffered, and the Spider’s group was one of the last remaining organizations.

  “Perhaps someday. But I am still young, and I love my job too much.” She smirked and nodded at her own words.

  “I agree. This is your calling. I could not imagine you lying on a beach somewhere drinking rum.” I smiled at the woman and she let out a gentle laugh.

  “But that brings me to my proposition. You have this quest to kill Raltenor the Conqueror. I would like you to instead stay here with me.”

  “I--“

  “Wait.” She held up a finger. “Before you answer. Hear my words. It is rare to trust someone in my profession. I am responsible for finding jobs for the Guild as well as training the New Bloods. On top of all of those tasks, I always need to watch my back. The people I groom into the world’s best assassins eventually come to desire more power.”

  I nodded at her words. I had foiled four attempts on the Spider’s life while I served as her apprentice and then did the same a dozen more times when I became a Journeyman. When I moved up to Master the attempts halted and I realized th
at the other guild members must have come to fear me as much as their leader.

  “I would like you to stay, Rose Boy. I trust you and enjoy your presence.” She twirled a silky piece of black hair around her slender fingers. “You’re strong, not as strong as me of course,” she let out a light laugh, “but if you did want my position, I would probably feel your blade or poison within the next few years.”

  “I do not want your position, Mistress.” The smile dropped from my lips and I hoped that she believed me.

  “Oh, I know. You have this pretty little quest to kill Raltenor. I understand. Here is what I am asking: We can do wonders if we work together. Someone will kill the Conqueror eventually and then business will bloom again. I need a strong partner that I can trust completely. I trust you. Forget about this suicide quest and stay here with me.”

  “I--“

  “Wait,” she interrupted me again. “I’m not just offering a business partnership either,” her eyes were dark, but I saw the desire within them. We had been in each other’s presence almost every day during the last eight years. Even when I went on my missions I missed the cunning woman and desired to return to her as soon as my target was eliminated. Perhaps I had feelings for her as well?

  “I understand and am thankful to you, Mistress.” I nodded and took a long breath. “I have been consumed by my mission and can think of nothing else but murdering this man. Once I have completed the task, I will return to you.”

  “That is what I thought you might say,” she sighed and shook her head. “The mission is suicide. I have eyes and ears at Crag Castle. No one even sees the man, save the most elite of his guards. I’d say you would be better off trying to kill him during one of his war campaigns, but the Conqueror hasn’t needed to destroy another country in five years. All are in his fist now and he doesn’t leave that fortress. You are my best assassin, but this job is beyond even your skills.”

  “It would be beyond my skills if I intended to come back,” I replied.

  She said nothing for a moment and I noticed that she bit her lower lip.

  “You won’t change your mind?” she finally asked.

  “No Mistress. But if I live, I will return to you.”

  “Damn,” she shook her head, “I guess I will have to help ensure that you return then.” She gifted me with her scimitar smile and I felt some tension leave my shoulders.

  “I will get you a boat and whatever equipment you need. Anything you need.” I nodded and returned her smile. We had spoken of my strategy dozens of times so she understood what I would require.

  “I expect you to come back alive, and I want you to swear you will make all efforts to do so.”

  “I will.”

  “Then there is one more gift for you.” She reached into a drawer and pulled out a small black box. It was crafted of ebony and she opened the lid to show me the contents.

  “A tooth?” It looked like a molar.

  “Not just a tooth. It is a hollowed out ceramic structure. Perfectly safe to chew even ice with, but if you scrape your mouth across it sideways,” she made the motion with her hands, “it will crack and release whatever fluid is stored inside.”

  “What is inside this one?”

  “White adder venom.”

  I let out a slow whistle. It was the deadliest toxin known to the guild. The serpents were rarer than hen’s teeth, and the venom didn’t just come out of the snake’s fangs with a bite. They could spit or leak it from their scales, so capturing one of the creatures was almost impossible. The amount of poison contained in the small tooth was probably worth all the gold that I had given back to the woman sitting before me.

  “Why?” I choked out the question.

  “Because if you fail, they will try to capture you. If they capture you, they will make you talk. I doubt you will speak about me, but I don’t want to risk the eye of Raltenor. The poison is quick and painless. You are a hard man, but I feel some sort of odd pain in my stomach when I think about the possibility of Raltenor’s torturers hurting you.” She smiled slightly and shook her head. “Maybe I am getting soft?”

  “Thank you Mistress. This is a wonderful gift.” I bowed my head before her and let out a sigh of gratitude.

  “Don’t thank me yet. You’ll need to find a place to put the thing.” I heard a clicking sound and looked up from my bow. She held a pair of pliers in her hand and she snapped the jaw of the tool together twice again.

  She smiled and her eyes filled with a savage glee.

  “Now take a seat over there. I’ll try to make this as painless as possible, but I am a little miffed you didn’t take me up on my offer.”

  I shook my head and laughed again. I sat down in the chair and leaned back so she could begin her work.

  “This is all that he carried,” the Dog spoke to the Princess and pointed to the pile of weapons, gear, and armor that sat upon the dining table. They had worked me over while the woman ate, and most of my fingers were now broken, along with three ribs and my nose.

  I felt my sanity slip away when I gazed through my swollen eyes at her. There was no mistaking my vision. It was the girl I had once loved. She was older, of course, by twenty-four years. But the time seemed to have been kind and her face still looked young. In fact, I would have guessed that she had only aged a few years since the last time I had seen her.

  She cut into a chunk of food with a golden knife and slowly sawed a piece of the cooked flesh onto her fork. The meat looked very rare, as if it were still bleeding. The woman lifted the bit of flesh and put it into her mouth with a bored expression. Then she dabbed her full lips with a snow white cloth.

  “Bring him before me,” she commanded, and strong hands hauled me across the polished marble floor. They had removed all of my armor and clothes, but left me with my blood splattered underwear.

  “How did you get into my castle?” She set down her napkin and picked up one of my sheathed daggers. She pulled the weapon clear of its sheath and then turned it over in her hand.

  What the hell was going on? How was she here? How was she still alive? Every rumor, story, or spoken word about him had detailed how the Conqueror raped the woman I loved for an entire month before mounting her head on a pike.

  I was looking at a ghost.

  Where was Raltenor the Conqueror?

  “His silence displeases me.” She turned to one of the Dogs and the man slammed the toe of his boot into my stomach. Another rib broke and I gasped in agony.

  “How did you get into my castle?” She was sorting through some of my other equipment.

  “I came up from the sewage shaft under the Crag.” My words slurred together as blood dribbled out of my mouth. Several teeth felt loose, but my poisoned molar was still secure. I had not given up hope yet. I didn’t know how my love could still be alive, but perhaps she would know where I might find Raltenor. Maybe I could tell her who I was and she would free me.

  “That sounds unlikely, but you did manage to strike me. It was better than all the other attempts against my life.” She held up my bag of caltrops and looked through it with obvious boredom.

  “I was trying to kill Raltenor the Conqueror,” I gasped and coughed up blood. Things other than bones were also broken inside of me.

  “And you failed. Like all the others,” the Princess sighed. She picked up one of my climbing daggers. “Which Guild are you--“ her voice stopped mid-sentence and she reached into the pile of my gear. Then she pulled out the worn embroidered patch and unfolded it.

  “Where did you get this?” Her voice filled with venom as she rose from her engraved chair.

  “You gave it to me,” I said. Her fist smashed into the side of my face before I even saw her arm move with almost supernatural speed. My mind spun with the pain.

  “Where did you get this?” she screamed. I noticed the soldiers that clung to my arms begin to tremble.

  “You gave it to me!” I yelled. Blood from my mouth speckled her white mink cloak.

  Her hand
closed around my jaw. Her grip was inhumanly strong. She lifted my battered face upwards and her blue eyes studied my visage for what seemed like forever.

  “Rose Boy?” Her furious expression broke and my name came out in a faint whisper.

  “Yes,” I replied and she stared at me for another dozen seconds.

  “I believed that you were dead.” Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. I felt my heart beat heavily in my chest. “How did you survive the siege?”

  “My father threw me down the sewage shaft and I swam out into the ocean.” I couldn’t believe the way her blue eyes had suddenly softened at my words.

  “Incredible,” she smiled and my heart soared. “All these years you’ve been alive and I haven’t gone a day without thinking of you. Oh, my Rose Boy.” The tears fell down her cheeks like a beautiful summer rain.

  “Let him go!” she snarled at the Dogs that held me, and they released their grip on my bloody arms with a frantic urgency. “Move to your posts!” she barked, and the men fell back behind me a few dozen feet. Then my love turned to me and her face softened again.

  “Why did you come to kill me? I don’t understand.” She tilted her head and her curly hair fell across her shoulders like a sunny ocean wave.

  “I came to kill Raltenor the Conqueror,” I said the words but my mind felt discombobulated. My love would help me find him. I had gone from despair to hope within a few seconds.

  I loved this girl so much.

  “But,” she moved her hand towards me and stroked my cheek, “I am Raltenor the Conqueror.”

  Her face changed, her eyes flashed dangerously and I felt her fist close around my neck as my body was lifted from the ground. This was impossible. There was no way that a woman her size could lift me like a rag doll. “Why do you want to kill me?”

  “No!” I gasped and my vision spun from lack of air. “They said he raped you. They said he mounted your head on a pike. I worked my whole life to avenge your death.” Her hand let go of my neck and I fell to the ground again in a bloody heap.

 

‹ Prev