Preeya took this as a certain sign from the gods, to abandon her Sisterhood like Ariadna had and become a woman as liberated as her. Only, Preeya knew she lacked the courage to do it all by herself – escape the Convent, settle down somewhere and make something of herself. She could not fight like Ariadna, nor did she want to learn.
She did not know what remained of her family; where she would go should she escape. She had already prepared a small bundle of things, tucked out of sight beneath her bed, should the day come for her to leave. But how would she do it?
Footsteps nearing the bedroom door had Preeya leaping down from the windowsill, light on her feet, and out of a second door leading down to the kitchen and dining room. Preeya slipped past them all and into the meditation room, which she should have already been inside for an hour now.
The other sisters were too deep in prayer to have even noticed Preeya crawling inside and joining them at the very back, where she closed her eyes tight and placed her hands onto her knees, pretending she had been there the entire time.
6 –
Ariadna
Vinn had told Ari to wear something pretty for dinner that evening, so she had taken his order a step further.
The assassin looked like a new woman each time she put on a dress; a rare occasion in itself. Ariadna had slipped into a beautiful dress of black satin, a slit riding up her right leg just because she knew she could get away with such an outfit. Her dress crossed over at Ari’s waist and over her breasts, leaving her stomach exposed to reveal a beautiful silver body chain adorned with real diamond pieces. The sleeves of the dress were long and tight at Ariadna’s wrists and she had snapped on a long silver cuff over each wrist, whilst silver lace covering her back caught in the candlelight of the dining hall chandelier. Ari had left her hair down tonight but, she swung it over one shoulder to keep it from covering the exquisite lace across her back.
Ariadna moved with lethal precision, her steps well balanced and her head held at an angle which did not suggest an air of arrogance. The young woman took pride in her appearance; however, she did not dress to catch the eye of anyone. She had never cared what others thought of her and if they liked what they saw, Ari only thought it a bonus, as it meant she would not have to lose her temper with anyone. For the most part, Ariadna kept to herself. Unless she liked the look of a certain young gentleman and he bothered to make a move on her too.
Judging how Vinn stared at her from his seat at the head of the table, Ariadna knew he would call her to his bed that night. She pulled a seat as far away from him as possible and dropped into it. Ari’s hand flew up towards the head of a young man beside her and she dragged her knuckles hard through his hair, getting a laugh out of him.
“You look very pretty, Ari. As always.” a dark-skinned assassin named Kai Dabratose complimented her. Like the gentleman he was, he poured her some wine and then clinked his glass with hers.
“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Ariadna replied and stuck her tongue out at the young man when he only laughed.
Oberon sat on Ariadna’s left and he carved her some veal and placed a generous amount onto her plate. Ariadna raised a brow at him.
“Well, Obe is sharing the meat this time around. What have I done to deserve such a fine token of friendship?” she asked, placing her glass down to take up her fork instead.
Oberon smiled as he spooned some buttered vegetables and potatoes onto her plate next. “You turned up for dinner today. It does mean a lot - to me, I’ll admit it, because it means I’d managed to get past that thick, meticulously guarded skull of yours.” he replied.
Ariadna gave him a light kiss on the cheek and watched as the heat rose to his face. When she shifted her gaze back to Vinn, she found him watching her still. The seat beside him was empty.
Had he expected her to sit next to him? What a shame.
Ariadna picked up her glass again and raised it towards Vinn’s direction, earning an arched brow from her superior and a raise of his own glass in return. No one else had seemed to notice the tension between them both through such a small action.
Except for Oberon and Kai.
“Is he going to get you to spread your legs for him again tonight?” Kai asked whilst digging his fork into a stubborn piece of broccoli which did not want to stay put.
Ariadna sent a sharp kick against his leg, causing him to drop his fork and hiss in pain. She was glad the others within the hall were already giddy with wine. “It isn’t funny, Kai.”
“I don’t understand why you don’t just say no. Ari, he’s been using you for the last four years. I would have thought you had more respect for yourself than to carry on putting yourself through this.” Kai sighed.
What made Ariadna’s purely sexual relationship with Vinn worse was that the others knew. They knew about the bargain she had struck with him to keep him from kicking her out of the Institute, and straight into the arms of the authorities who would kill her for her betrayal of the religious order she once followed.
As a member of The Anari, Ariadna’s protection was guaranteed. She may have been excellent at what she did but, even for an assassin of her skills set, fighting an entire city by herself would be impossible. It only took one person to kick the hornet’s nest but, handling the damage afterwards required a few more boots than that. The last person within the Anari who was murdered by the authorities, well, the whole Institute went after the guards within the city centre.
The previous captain of the city guard, a man by the name of Jonah Cree, had been paid a pretty penny in secret to betray the trust of Oberon’s younger brother, Dorrin.
When Oberon had heard about the brutal murder of his younger brother, at the hands of both the politician he was sent to kill and the captain of the guard himself, he and The Anari had come down on the authorities like a storm. It went without saying that the authorities had never made the same mistake of forgetting where their loyalty rested – especially since The Anari had never wasted their precious time killing common guards within the city centre; not unless hired to.
“He still hasn’t let me start on my names yet.” Ariadna spoke with soft words to her companions. She ran a finger around the rim of her cup before moving her hand away in time for Oberon to refill her glass.
Obe placed the silver jug back down onto the table and scratched at his thick blonde moustache. “He’s still putting it off? Ari, I think you’ve put up with Vinn long enough to not get what you want. Do you have any idea how you will get him to listen to you?” he asked.
Ariadna did not touch her replenished glass of wine.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’m running out of ideas?” she asked.
Kai wiped his mouth with a napkin and went to throw it down onto his now empty plate. Yet he stopped midway at the sound of Oberon chastising him.
“You’ve increased your training hours, Kai. Now you need to eat more to sustain yourself, or else you’ll waste away before our eyes.” Oberon ordered. He sounded so much like a father to the young man, to Ari too, that the other men often turned to him for any personal matters which they did not want to bring to Vinn’s attention; should he rebuke them for having emotional problems in the first place.
The thieves and assassins of The Anari, as fine as they were, had all started off with some kind of dark, personal story; from alcoholism to drug abuse. But that was what made them so damn good at their jobs, the pure determination to never go back to where they had come from.
One glance in Vinn’s direction had Ari clenching her thighs together. It made her angry to think she wanted to finish what they had started in his office earlier that day.
Vinn seemed to have noticed the young woman’s body tense up and he smiled at that. He would wait another hour, let Ariadna enjoy the meal, and then he would take her to his bed where he could finish his own personal feast there.
7 –
Troian
Dinner was served at half-past six, sharp, yet Kanra Mortier did not show up
himself until seven.
Kholo talked with Kadira without an ounce of fear or suspicion about what it was they were doing. He knew the contract they were going to be assigned well. The others did not.
As for Troian, he felt the collar of the ash grey tunic a slave had given him to wear biting into his throat every time he swallowed or moved his head to look around. He hadn’t thought it possible for the palace to get any stranger than when he had first arrived with the other mercenaries but; it seemed Vhorgo was full of unpleasant surprises.
The servants loitering around the hall did not speak, and they wore iron collars around their necks and chains around their ankles. The men and women moved with frightening speed and precision, filling their master’s cup before he had even arrived, along with those of his guests, and they steered clear of Kadira as they arranged an array of food across the wide dining table.
A heavy chandelier made of bones swung above the table, burning dimly against the surrounding darkness of the dining hall. The light cast shadows across the black marble floor and up the walls. Troian was certain he had seen a shadow stretch out towards him, claws out, only to find there was no one behind him at all.
“How much are you wagering this food is poisoned?” Artus asked Troian as he too tried to make himself comfortable around the eerily silent servants.
Troian slid his gaze to where Kadira sat. He made sure the brute did not hear him as he replied, “I have a bad feeling we’re not worthy of being poisoned.”
Kadira rose from his seat before the door to the dining room even opened and he bowed down low, waiting like that for his master to enter.
The slaves were quick to do the same, only their chains clattered against the marble as they dropped to the floor and pressed their heads against the ground. Kholo rose from his own seat and soon enough the other mercenaries found their feet.
The doors to the dining room creaked as they flew open and Kanra Mortier came strolling in. The Dictator of Vhorgo had not even been close to the picture Troian had painted in his mind. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, his eyes a terrible, dark shade of red.
His skin looked ragged and pale grey, with a head of thick black hair; shaved at the sides and in a braid. Kanra’s hands were thin and wrinkled, long nails hanging off the tips as he held his hands together over his lower stomach.
Just like Kadira, the Dictator had dressed himself entirely in black. The only real difference to his outfit was the long grey cape that had he fastened across his shoulders with silver pins; dragging across the floor as he walked.
Troian swallowed hard at the sight of him.
What the fuck was going on?
Kadira fell to his master’s feet and grasped his boots.
“Welcome, Master.” his voice was deep but, raspy all of a sudden.
Even Kholo appeared taken aback by Kanra’s appearance. When he and the others were given permission to find their seats again, the leader of the Khaishee Mercenaries spoke with great care. “Thank you for welcoming us, as guests, to your home. The contract,”
Kanra brought a slim finger to his lips and silenced Kholo. “Good Sir, please. Let’s not talk business before we enjoy a glass of wine first; I find such topics tedious to listen to when I am sober.” his voice was not as deep as Kadira’s. In fact, it had a melodic tone to it but, not in a way which the others considered attractive. It only made the other mercenaries more suspicious of this strange Dictator whom had called upon their service.
Kholo took up his glass of wine and raised it in Kanra’s direction. “My apologies.” the fool did not seem to care about the obvious discomfort of his own men. He shared a drink with everyone present and then placed his glass back down onto the table.
“Ah,” Kanra began and clapped his hands together as a robed and hooded figure slipped into the dining hall and approached him. He looked to his guests. “I’m afraid I am a deeply religious man and I understand you may not share my gods but, I cannot begin a meal without a blessing first. To eat unblessed food is to offend my gods.”
Troian regretted not slipping some kind of weapon into his boot before he arrived for dinner. He had not failed to notice how the servants within the hall had rushed back to their posts and avoided meeting the gaze of the priest figure; as though they feared him more than their own master. Everything about this place was off – how could Kholo not seem to care?
The robed figure took Kanra’s hands in his and kissed each knuckle with tender lips, out of respect. When he pulled away, Kanra tucked his hands beneath the table to hide the blood left printed on his skin. The priest stretched his arms out before him and dropped his head a little before he spewed words of blessing in a language the Mercenaries could not understand. With each name he called out, “Etus, Kharabbus; Distretia; Mhorru; Rhesus; Pharra and Sif.” he added in a few words in his strange mother tongue. His hands seemed to tremble as he spoke and once finished, he retrieved a knife from the table and opened his palm with the blade, dripping blood over Kanra’s plate. With a swift bow, the priest left the dining room as quickly as he had come.
Troian and Artus could only stare at their host with jaws slack.
“I will give you information on the contract tomorrow.” Kanra said. He piled food onto his blood-stained plate, a mixture of stew and potatoes, an entire rabbit the size of both fists put together, and beetroots. He cut a slice of meat from its bone and put the bloody food into his mouth.
Troian suppressed a gag.
“Your house, your rules. As long as we get paid handsomely for our service afterwards, we will wait for you until you are ready.” Kholo replied.
Kanra Mortier must have been willing to pay an eye watering sum of money for this contract; if this was what he was putting them through upon their first encounter.
It also must have been a stupid amount of money on the line for Kholo to lose all of his senses. He carved a piece of rabbit off his own plate and put it into his mouth. It tasted good, finely seasoned and well-cooked.
Troian found a servant approach him, his back to Kanra, and he refilled his cup. Troian watched as the man lifted his eyes to meet his and, hoping Kadira nor Kanra wouldn’t notice, he opened his mouth a little and revealed what was left of his tongue; it appeared to have been cut out.
Then just like that, the servant returned to his post and took up his concrete like stature again. The servants; they had had their tongues removed for a reason. What was Kanra doing within these palace walls that required uttermost silence?
Troian’s thoughts raced back to the set of stairs leading deeper underground, the ones which Kadira had rebuked him for staring at. But, after what he had just seen, all Troian could do was stare ahead with wide eyes and a turning stomach.
8 –
Vinn
By the time the third hour of the feast came rolling by, the entire Institute was positively drunk. Save for Vinn and Ariadna. The musicians had done encore after encore, to a point where they had had to switch with each other so that one or two of the men could have a break, without leaving the entire hall in silence. Dinners at The Anari Institute could get rowdy quickly but that only made the meal more interesting.
Oberon and Kai sat with Ariadna still, only a whore had found her way onto each of their laps and now both men sat devouring their young companions instead of the food.
Empty bottles of wine, rum and whiskey alike lay strewn across the tables as an aftermath of the inhabitants’ excessive drinking.
Ariadna paid no attention, however, to the sound of her companions sitting beside her. Nor did she care much to take in what was really happening elsewhere within the hall. She lifted her gaze to where Vinn sat in his seat, for he had not moved the entire time, save to go for a piss once or twice. She rose from her seat, hiding a smile as Vinn did the same, and she brushed her way past a group of tipsy thieves.
Vinn followed her out of the hall until they were both out of sight of the other men. He took Ariadna’s hand in his and pulled her toward
s his bedroom rather than hers. His hand was clasped tight around Ari’s, as though he was afraid he would lose her somehow.
Neither of them were drunk. They had not felt the desire to taste too much wine tonight.
Ariadna tugged the back of her dress out of the way as Vinn closed his bedroom door behind her and locked it.
“You look beautiful tonight.” he complimented. It was a little too late for that now but, seeing as Ariadna had denied him the opportunity to see her earlier, she took it anyway.
Ariadna tugged Vinn’s collar open, snatching a kiss whilst she did. Her nimble fingers worked quickly as they unbuttoned Vinn’s shirt and pulled it off, exposing his strong and scarred body. Vinn too had taken quiet a beating over the years, as were the consequences of his profession, and the scar running across his chest shone an angry red. Ari kissed it once and then twice.
The young woman worked her way down to the belt of Vinn’s breeches. She undid it with two clicks and watched as he shrugged out of the rest of his clothes. Ariadna kissed him again. She moved him towards his bed and pushed him down onto it, her eyes strictly on his.
“Does this not say enough about what I think of you?” Ariadna whispered to him. She ran her hands up to the belt holding her dress together and undid it, pushing her dress off her shoulders to reveal her own scarred figure.
Vinn felt himself go hard at the sight of her. He shuffled back on the bed until he felt more comfortable and watched with bright eyes as Ariadna crawled over him on the bed and settled herself against his manhood. Vinn’s hand was around the back of Ari’s neck before she could do anymore and he pulled her in for a forceful kiss.
Ariadna swooned. Her silver hair draped over Vinn’s face but, she only brushed it aside as he sat up and kissed her again. She felt his hands run down to her buttocks, and he held her there as he moved her against him. Ariadna could not suppress a moan as he entered her.
The Anari Page 3
