The guardsman, his position and post made clear by certain pieces of decorative armor which he wore, after speaking three peculiar final words, continued to breathe his last. Then as his body grew limp, Eleven laid the unknown victim on the snow, moving two fingers up to close the guardsman's now lifeless eyes forever. Eleven did not know if the man had died a good death for he knew very little about his mission, or in what manner the guardsman had wished to pass from this world. It was no doubt a poor death, for what he did know suggested that the man's seemingly important mission remained incomplete, and as he had been with many a man in their final moments, Eleven had observed that the cold of winter often made death more difficult to embrace.
As Eleven again looked around to find some sign of the killer's continued presence his thoughts turned to the victim's last words. Then, after standing up, Eleven returned to the shadows, pondering his next course of action. He faced the fact that while his instincts to follow the strange guard who had wandered so unusually far from his station in the middle of the night were correct, he had at least expected the man to arrive at his destination. So as the assassin was no doubt long gone by now, Eleven decided promptly that currently the only reasonable course of action would be to to continue to stake out the large fortress below Five Spires in patient anticipation of Legatus Malcus' emergence.
Upon making quick movement in the same direction from which he had come, Eleven considered the current apparent similarity between his and the recently deceased guardsman's mission. Something more than undesirable was happening, and Eleven was determined to uncover whatever hidden reasons lay behind the utterance of the fallen man's last words.
Many hours had passed since Eleven had returned to his room.
The room which Eleven presently occupied was located on the backside of a high-class inn which sat on the very edge of the city. Eleven had requested this specific room as it's large main window happened to face the entrance to Castle Fortress. He had positioned a chair directly in front of the window allowing him to watch intently, awaiting any sign of Malcus, hoping that he had not already missed the man's departure during the period which he had been absent while tracking the suspicious guardsman.
Eleven throughout the night had dismissed tiredness and boredom as if they were soldiers under his command, as if they were slaves which obeyed his orders for fear of his wrath. Now, as he looked out through the glass window, Eleven was beginning to see evidence of first light. Then as he continued to watch, Eleven saw movement as the gates parted and a single man stepped out. It was too far away for him to tell exactly who it was, so Eleven decided to capitalize on the possibility that it might very well be Legatus Malcus.
Upon quickly exiting his room, Eleven walked down the finely decorated hall which led to a descending spiral staircase. Then, after descending the staircase, he continued to make way through the large lobby before exiting the inn.
As Eleven ran down the now busy streets he moved speedily to the main street which was commonly used to enter the city after exiting Castle Fortress.
Castle Street, as it was called, continued in a straight line taking one theoretically from Castle Fortress to the southernmost tip of Southside, and Eleven only needed to travel but a block before nearing the entrance to the wide street.
Eleven made himself invisible in the crowd of people who recently emerged to begin the work of the new day, however unfortunately as he neared, Eleven saw Tiberius instead of Malcus wandering down Castle Street, oblivious to his presence. Then suddenly as Eleven scanned the crowd he noticed a tail tracking Tiberius' movements. The spy moved stealthily through the crowd stalking Tiberius, keeping just out of sight. Eleven then glanced back toward Castle Fortress to again in the distance see another man exit. Ah, that will be Malcus I presume.
Eleven was faced with two choices; either divert to spy on the spy, or wait as the man in the distance neared, the man Eleven assumed was likely Malcus the Scarred. He quickly decided to follow the man who was tailing Tiberius, trusting his instincts for the second time since Tiberius had dispatched him to find out what Malcus was up to.
Weaving in and out of the crowds which occupied the surprisingly busy streets of Northside, Eleven followed the man who was stalking Praetor Tiberius for some time before they reached the boat docks. As Tiberius continued forward, moving towards the Andromeda, the man whom Eleven had been following suddenly diverted South, heading away from the praetor. Eleven went on in stealthy pursuit of the spy for awhile before stopping as he came in view of Malcus' flagship. Looking out over the docks, Eleven, unwilling to leave the cover which the buildings provided, slunk back against a wall making continued effort to remain out of sight. Peaking around his cover, Eleven witnessed the man, whom he now identified as Malcus' servant, conversing with the legatus. As the two men finished their business together, Eleven continued to watch as Malcus fetched what appeared to be one of his many messengers. Then, after a few moments, the man Eleven deduced to be Malcus' messenger, departed, making quick movement toward the Northeast, leaving the docks and entering the city. Feeling the need to discover the identity of the messages recipient Eleven left his cover, moving quickly to catch up. Matching the messenger's pace, Eleven continued to move unnoticed through the city's bustling streets, following unseen behind a man who was unintentionally leading him to a location which he was soon to discover.
Some time had passed as Eleven was led east to Castle Street; then, after traveling north for a little way, the Messenger took Cobbles Corner which brought them further east to the estate of none other than Salinius of house Brasitus.
Tiberius had crossed paths with house Brasitus on more than one occasion in his relatively short career. And regardless of the disdain Tiberius had towards this particular family, he had earned far more so from them. However none bearing the Brasitus name hated Tiberius more than the man who owned this vast and significant estate which now stood before Eleven.
Although Eleven could not see the manner from where he stood, as a twelve foot tall brick wall surrounded the entire estate, he knew it to be three stories tall and hundreds of feet long, built from the crow's perspective in the shape of the Brasitus family crest; an hourglass with a small circle at its center. He knew the large estate's grounds to contain many trimmed bushes, and hundreds of trees, some very exotic, as much of the greenery found throughout the grounds had been taken from the farthest and most beautiful parts of the world. There were many concrete walking paths and even a stream which wound its way through the estate flowing south.
It had been a few years, but Eleven had once walked through the large wooden gates which towered above the brick wall while accompanying Tiberius on business. He remembered the distaste Tiberius felt toward Salinius, and the tense circumstances which surrounded their meeting.
What are you up to now Salinius Brasitus?
It had been more than a few minutes since the messenger was granted access to the grounds by the two guards which stood outside the gates. Eleven did not believe it to simply be a coincidence that immediately after the spy who followed Tiberius had reported to Malcus, the legatus subsequently sent a messenger to a lord who famously wished nothing more than to see Tiberius smote.
After a few more moments passed the gates parted as the messenger moved to exit the estate which stood at the farthest end of Cobbles Corner, making his way west. Eleven debated letting the man go unobserved as he was no doubt only going to return to Malcus, but then decided against that course of action in prospect of the completion of thoroughness.
After heading back through Castle Street, the messenger suddenly made a peculiar turn that led them past the large Tiburon sculpture which stood on Harbor Street just a few blocks away from Jaimus' library. Then Eleven, not being surprised easily, stood in brief confusion a short distance away, watching as the messenger who he'd been following, the man who he had witnessed serving Legatus Malcus, nonchalantly walked into the library which was owned by Tiberius' chief spy and communicat
ions official.
Upon quickly entering the library, Eleven saw the man conversing with Jaimus next to a set of tall bookshelves on the other end of the room. The man left as Eleven approached Jaimus, speaking slowly as usual with insidious sounding long drawn-out words, his voice muffled by his mildly formfitting sinister looking steel mask, the mask which adorned his face at all times, “Who is he?”
Jaimus turn to Eleven with a grin, “Well hello Eleven, not even bothering to greet a kind old elderly fellow, eh? You need to work on your abhorrent manners my friend.”
“So you have said; although I doubt a warm greeting would fair me well now,” spoke Eleven in an effort to remain patient.
“No I suppose not... Very well, in answer to your question, the man who you referred to is a double agent recently hired by Legatus Malcus. He serves Tiberius by delivering messages for Malcus and reporting the content of those messages to me without Legatus Malcus' knowledge,” there was a brief pause before Jaimus continued, “and in anticipation of your next question, the message which my spy delivered for Malcus today was, 'The deed will be done soon, you can expect my arrival late this afternoon'.”
“I see...," replied Eleven as he paused, "I shall now take my leave. If anything else of importance comes up on the matter of Legatus Malcus, you are to inform me immediately. I have been ordered by the praetor to discover whatever it is that he is up to as quickly as possible, and any information you might uncover will assuredly be of use to me. In the meantime I will be staying for now at the inn across the street.”
“Very well,” Jaimus responded as Eleven moved to the door, and continued on, making his exit.
Then, as tiredness from lack of sleep began to cloud Eleven's mind and slow his prompt pace, he moved on toward the inn which he had spoken of, holding one intent primary; sleep.
Chapter 6
Day 2
“Yeah you just missed him. He left for Five Spires not long ago, but if you hurry, catching up to him shouldn't be difficult. If I were you I'd try intercepting Tiberious on Castle Street.”
Kanii spoke as if Zackarius hadn't traversed Kingsgate's vast myriad of streets countless times, delivering messages to places in the city that most didn't venture. In fact if one counted the quick greeting and farewell which courtesy required upon messages delivery, it was likely Zackarius had met more lords, merchants, and officials than even Tiberius.
It went without saying that Zackarius knew Kingsgate better than anyone; so knowing exactly which route Tiberius would take he courteously bid the Andromeda's Captain farewell before leaving the docks, hoping to find the praetor before the sun gave its last rays of light as it fell beyond the horizon. But Zackarius, before allowing the buildings and crowds of Kingsgate to engulf him upon entering the city, stopped, turning to look back over the harbor which bustled with ships as they wandered about, moving into port or finding position to place anchor for the night. He looked over the sea as the gentle tide made brilliant by the sun's falling caused subtle rays of light to be reflected off of the water. Then, looking past the activity of the vast busy harbor and over the beautiful endless ocean, he saw the sunset lit clouds reflecting many shades of orange which was soon to become red, then pink, and finally a deep violet before the sun bade all who lived under its watchful gaze, all who lived according to the life it sustained, goodnight.
Turning back around after finishing his glorious glimpse of the beautiful sunset, taking one last deep inhale of the strong yet serene smell of the ocean which came up to the harbor from the Tiburon passage, Zackarius began running east down a series of streets, a path which he knew Tiberius commonly frequented. He wove of in and out of the crowds, jogging at a steady pace.
Kingsgate was beginning to settle down as the day's work was nearly completed for most who currently traversed the city.
Zackarius found it somewhat easy to run through Kingsgate as most in the city were familiar with seeing messengers run to and fro; that being the case, most, both rich and poor, tended to graciously move out of the way as Zackarius passed through. Zackarius appreciated this greatly, as it made deliveries far more pleasant than some smaller cities, towns, and settlements which he had been to in service to Praetor Tiberius.
Rounding another corner, but still catching no glimpse of the praetor, Zackarius quickened his pace.
More time passed as Zackarius traversed the broad streets of Northside before, finally, he spotted Tiberius sauntering northward in his typical patient gate.
As Tiberius walked, Zackarius noticed how the people which he passed by gawked, stared, and gave double glances, most enamored by the prospect that they were mere feet away from the great Protector of the Empire. The majority were starstruck, a few couldn't care less, but there were still those who clearly were unaware that they had just witnessed the noble Praetor Tiberius himself. Either way one thing was clear to anyone who saw Tiberius walking down Castle Street; the world revolved around one man.
As far as Zackarius was concerned Tiberius was the one man worthy of his own legend. Even though Zackarius had only been with the praetor for a few years, he did not simply follow Tiberius' orders, no, he believed in the man. Zackarius, like many, would give his life to serve Tiberius, and he knew with full confidence that Tiberius would never betray that loyalty, for he was one of the few proud commanders to have justly earned the complete trust and loyalty of his men. In Zackarius' mind it was as the great Tiburon himself said, 'It is common for men to retain a semblance of loyalty to their master whatever the reason may be, however that which is truly unusual is a master who bears even greater loyalty toward those who suffer his rule.' Zackarius knew that Tiberius was one of those men, but even further, he knew one thing above all else according to that which he'd personally witnessed; anyone who did not at least respect Tiberius was a fool.
Suddenly, as Zackarius neared the praetor, intent on joining him, one large man disguised as a merchant came up from behind Tiberius swinging an oddly shaped club which had been hidden in his cloak. Then, as the praetor was struck in the back of the head, four other disguised men came out of hiding to pick up Tiberius' unconscious body and throw him into a cart which one of the men had just pulled up. They quickly covered the praetor with a blanket before hurriedly carting him away.
Zackarius, surprised, terrified, and frozen in indecision, had a difficult choice to make; he could either follow the men back to who knows where, or he could make use of the little time Tiberius had left by sprinting back to Jaimus and quickly informing him of the unthinkable thing which had just happened, allowing the praetor's myriad of spies, warriors, and assassins to do their respective duties. After taking a few brief moments to weigh his options, Zackarius moved to action quickly by turning and running as fast as he could along the route which would bring him to the library, hoping beyond all hope that Jaimus would know what to do.
As the twilight gave way to darkness, the sun to the moon and stars, Zackarius ran, his heart beating, his breath shortening, his mind turning helplessly to the terrifying prospect of life without the great Tiberius. If Tiberius should fall what would become of him, what would he do, where would he go? He had never thought of this before, he had never needed to; the praetor had always been so solid, so unmovable. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to men like Tiberius, to men of his rank and authority.
Continuing to round corner after corner, Zackarius began to reflect upon the naivety of his thoughts and past expectations, for he knew the truth was that lords fell all the time, the unexpected becoming reality so often that the unexpected eventually became expected. In fact, Zackarius was not a stranger to the concept that men like Tiberius were perhaps the most at risk, as they handled power and the lives of men with the wave of the hand, a flick of the wrist; legions lived or died by a single spoken word from men like Tiberius, and the consequences of such power are truly far-reaching, and often times highly unpredictable.
Many of the lords and servants who had previously occupied Nor
thside's once busy streets were now in their homes and respective estates, leaving the roads fairly empty. And as Zackarius passed by, occasionally he glanced through the glass windows of wealthy homes lit by lantern light, seeing briefly a family sitting down to a meal, people passing from one room to another; sights which earlier he might have found provided a pleasant atmosphere for a peaceful late afternoon walk. At this time though, Zackarius could focus on nothing else but the task at hand, remaining center focused as he charged across the streets of Kingsgate which were now devoid of men, women, and children, quiet and dark.
Finally, after traversing a few miles, Zackarius slowed his pace from a full out sprint to a quick jog as he neared the library. Seeing that the library was still lit, Zackarius breathed a small sigh of relief as the lantern light which exuded from inside the building gave clear evidence that Jaimus was still present. After reaching out, he grabbed the doorknob and turned with a push before storming into the large secret spy hub which remained disguised as a simple, large collection of rentable books. Seeing Jaimus sitting in the chair at his desk poring over an assortment of large books, Zackarius all but sprinted toward the older man. As he arrived, panting from shortness of breath, Jaimus, looking up, spoke with concern, “What is it?”
Speaking in between large gasps, Zackarius replied, “It's Tiberius... he's been kidnapped!”
Jaimus after a brief moment of surprise responded with urgency, “By who, where, and how long ago?”
“Just before sunset I was looking for him... then upon finding him I saw a man disguised as a merchant come out of nowhere swinging a club... immediately afterward as the praetor fell unconscious four other men came out and carted him away... they were heading north on Castle Street,” finished Zackarius with a few more stressed breaths.
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