The Assassin

by Trudie Collins

  Hawk listened to the narration of what had befallen the group in silence, not once interrupting with a question. As soon as he had been told everything, he flew off to look for food and hunt down the assassin. He returned just as everyone was getting ready to continue their journey, announcing that the man was still on the wrong side of the river. Before departing he had asked for permission to kill him, should his hunt be successful, but Tor had forbidden it, stating that they were not murderers. Even though the man had killed a number of their friends, he should be arrested for his actions and Hawk did not have the right to act as judge, jury and executioner.

  They travelled through the night, continuing to head towards Durston, Remeny’s capital. It was uneventful and the group were much more relaxed, knowing that the assassin would not be in a position to make another attempt on their lives for another few days.

  They were close to a farm when the sun began to rise, so Tor and Nosmas headed off to try to purchase more food while everyone else set up camp. They returned a short while later with fresh milk, vegetables and a recently cured ham. The farmer had also provided directions to the nearest village and strongly recommended that they make a detour and visit the baker.

  Once the meal was over, Tor and Nosmas departed once more to find the bakery while everyone else tidied up and prepared to get some sleep. Grimmel was still complaining about not being able to hear so nobody objected when he was the first to settle down for a few hours. River had managed to sleep for a while during the night so she sat beside him, watching him carefully as she listened to his snoring.

  Tor and Nosmas returned before the first pair had completed their watch and volunteered to take over. They had just been relieved by Sam and Brin when the entire camp was awakened by River’s scream. Sam was the first to reach her and found her kneeling beside Grimmel, her hands cupped together and held out in front as though they contained something she could not bear to have close to her but she was too afraid to let go. Grimmel was sitting up and staring at the water sprite.

  Sam sat beside River and gently stroked her arm. “What is wrong?” she asked, but the young sprite did not speak until Ellen was beside her.

  She opened her hands a fraction and a white creature crawled out. It looked like a large albino centipede. “It came out of his ear,” she said in a shaky voice.

  Ellen sighed sadly. “I was afraid of this. It is a chilopoda. They crawl into the ear of a living creature while it is asleep then make their way to the brain to lay their eggs.”

  The parts of Grimmel’s face that were not hidden by his beard went the same colour as the insect that had escaped from River’s grasp and was crawling away, until Patrick stamped on it. “Are you trying to tell me I have eggs inside my head?” the dwarf asked quietly. Ellen nodded. “What happens when they hatch?”

  “Are you sure you really want to hear this?” Grimmel wasn’t, but he said he was anyway. “The young larvae will live off your brain tissue until they are large enough to survive outside, at which time they will eat their way out, usually through the ear, eye or the nose.”

  Nobody spoke. “Is there anything we can do?” Sam eventually asked.

  “We can use the same spell we used on Cub,” Ellen suggested. “But all that will do is halt the progress of the eggs development. It will delay but not stop the inevitable. I know of no spell that will do that.”

  “Any other suggestions?” Tor asked. “Will the elves be able to help?” he asked Brin, who shrugged his shoulders.

  “It is possible, but I have never heard of them doing anything like what is needed here,” he replied.

  “We should go to Thauma,” Nosmas announced. “I do not personally know a spell that can remove the eggs from the brain without causing any damage, but I have heard of it being done. Someone at Thauma should be able to help.”

  “That is a long journey,” Seth observed. “Will Grimmel live that long?” His question sounded callus, but it had to be asked.

  “I do not know,” Ellen said sincerely as Nosmas indicated that he too had no idea.

  “Then we should find out,” Tor told them. “Knock him out then make him comfortable in the back of the wagon,” he instructed.

  “Wait,” Grimmel called out. “I need you to promise me something first. If no spell can be found, or any that are tried prove to be unsuccessful, do not wake me up again. Kill me while I am still unconscious.” He looked around at his friends, his expression pleading. Nobody would meet his gaze. Tears flowed down River’s cheeks, giving him a strange feeling of pleasure.

  Eventually Patrick spoke. “You have my word,” he said firmly. “I will not let you die in agony. I know what that feels like and I would not wish anyone to go through it.”

  “Thank you,” Grimmel said solemnly then nodded to Nosmas that he should cast his spell.

  Nosmas did as he requested and he fell to the ground as though he had just fainted. Patrick picked up his inert form and River made a bed for him beside Hawk’s coffin.

  “There is no point in you staying,” Ellen informed River as she settled herself beside the unconscious dwarf. “He does not know you are there.”

  River took his hand and looked defiantly at Ellen. “Yes he does.” Ellen did not argue and climbed out of the wagon.

  “We head north,” Tor called out once everyone was mounted. Most of them realised that this was the direction the assassin was heading so they risked him catching up with them sooner, but this did not matter; they needed to get Grimmel to the wizards as soon as they could.

  They travelled all through the night and when the first rays of light appeared, Hawk retreated to his coffin, but the journey continued on for a few more hours. It was not discussed, but the urgency was felt by them all. Breaks would be shorter than usual for the foreseeable future and spare horses would need to be purchased so they could be rotated; nobody wished to exhaust them.

  Time passed and they changed direction to head north-east. They saw no sign of the assassin, but he saw them. The road followed the path of the river, so they passed close to the bridge he intended to use. It was just by chance that he noticed them. He had been resting in a barn for a few hours and had just opened the door when he heard the sound of people approaching on the opposite side of the river. Laying low in the long grass, he watched as those he would soon have been seeking rode by. If he had stayed inside the wooden structure for just a few moments longer he would have missed their passing and would have ended up travelling all the way back to where he had last seen them. Thanking his lucky stars for his good fortune, he remained where he was until they were out of sight.

  Having his quarry so close had its uses, but also made things more difficult. Nizari was sure that the vampire was hunting for him each night so he would have to make sure he only travelled while the sun was out and stayed well hidden during the hours of darkness. On top of that, he would also have to make sure the others did not catch sight of him. The best way to do this would be to get ahead of them, so he decided to stop resting his horse and continue his journey with all haste. It would mean riding the animal into exhaustion, but it was only an animal after all and he could easily purchase or steal another when the need arose.

  As he rode, he contemplated the reasons for the change of direction. Tor had been heading towards Durston, to visit his brother, of that he was certain, so what could have happened to make him alter his course? It was possible that they had guessed that he himself had headed north so they were hoping to intercept and catch him as he crossed the river, but he did not think so. Something had happened, but he had no way of finding out what. Now they knew what he looked like, he would not be able to enter their camp again. Once he was on the correct side of the river, he would need to formulate a plan. If he came across another traveller, maybe he could persuade them to act as his spy, provided he had not stopped Tor and his friends being so friendly to strangers.

  When he reached the bridge, there was no sign of those he was hunting, so he crossed a
nd continued heading north. He was concerned that Tor may be heading north to recross the river, but he could not afford to wait around to find out. He was close to a village when his horse collapsed under him. He had ridden it too fast for too long without allowing it to rest properly and exhaustion had finally taken its toll. He was not a cruel man and did not wish to see it suffer, so taking a sharp knife from his belt he slit its throat, stroking it gently between the eyes until it stopped breathing.

  He wiped the knife clean before returning it to its usual place, then started walking. It would not take him long to reach the village and stealing another horse would be easy. He was pleased, however, when he came across a farm not far from the village where horses were bred. He was, after all, an assassin not a thief and he preferred not to steal if he could avoid it. The farmer willingly gave him a decent horse for some of the gold he was carrying, along with as many bags of oats as could be comfortably strapped to the animal’s back. Needing no more provisions, he avoided the village and headed northwards once more.

  He had not been travelling long when he heard a noise in the trees beside him. He stopped and listened carefully. It sounded like the grunts of a wild animal so he dismounted to investigate. Praying that the new horse would obey when he told it to remain where it was, he entered the woodland. He soon spotted animal tracks and followed them deeper into the wood, stopping suddenly when he came across a clearing filled with wild boar calling to each other. This is what he had been hearing. Taking his knife from his belt, he was about to throw it when an idea came to him and he resheathed if before returning to his horse.

  Thankfully it was where he had left it and he went straight to the hessian bags of oats, untying one and placing it on the ground. The horse looked at him expectantly, but he ignored it. Next he opened his backpack and withdrew a small leather bag that contained a number of glass vials. Selecting one filled with a dull yellow liquid and another with bright blue, he removed the stoppers and poured the contents over the bag. Once he was satisfied that all of the liquid had soaked in adequately, he picked up the bag and placed it over his shoulder, holding it in place with his arm, then strode back into the trees.

  It did not take him long to find the wild boar once more and when he did he removed the bag from his shoulder, sliced it with his knife and tossed it into the clearing they were occupying. He retreated out of sight and watched as one approached. It was a tough looking creature with long sharp tusks, probably the leader of the group. It sniffed at the contents of the bag then began to eat. Soon all of the boar were trying to get some, pushing and shoving each other out of the way. While this was going on, Nizari crept up behind a young one, which had not yet eaten any of the oats, and expertly sliced its throat, picked up the corpse and returned to his horse.

  The horse was not happy about having the dead boar strapped to its back, but did not attempt to escape. It had shied away from the smell of blood, but Nizari had grabbed it roughly by the ear, twisting it painfully, and had whispered exactly what he would do to the horse if it did not behave. It understood every word and stood meekly until the man was ready to mount. He departed at a fast pace, putting as much distance between himself and those who were following the same road as he could before stopping to roast his meal.

  Tor and his group were not far from the same patch of trees when night descended and Hawk arose. He went hunting for food and soon spotted the wild boar. They were walking sluggishly, as though they had just awoken from a deep sleep, but Hawk did not notice and flew in low, grabbing one and flying high into the air with it. Ignoring its squeals of protest, he was about to sink his teeth into its jugular when a strange smell hit him. He sniffed the skin of the boar and, for the first time since becoming a vampire, he felt like vomiting.

  He returned to the others, the boar still wiggling in his arms, and touched down close to the fire Seth had just lit. “This is the first time you have brought us meat while it is still alive,” the young man observed, pointing at the animal Hawk was holding. Hawk ignored him and made his way directly to Nosmas, who was talking with Ellen and Patrick.

  “Smell this,” he instructed, pushing the boar towards Ellen, who stepped back, wrinkling her nose.

  “No thank you,” she said, but Nosmas did as instructed.

  “Put it down,” the wizard instructed and watched it carefully as it staggered around, but did not attempt to run away. “It has been poisoned,” he observed.

  “That is what I thought,” Hawk said. “I am going to see if the rest are in the same condition.” He returned a short while later, carrying the remains of the hessian bag. “All of them smell the same, though some stronger than others,” he announced. “And I found this.”

  He handed the bag to Nosmas, who sniffed it. “I can detect two different poisons,” he observed. “But neither would kill. Why would anyone poison oats then feed them to wild boar?”

  “What would happen if you had drunk the blood Hawk?” Tor asked.

  “Tainted blood is fatal to a vampire,” Hawk said calmly.

  “Then we have our answer.” Tor looked at his friends, who were all gathered around him. “This assassin is getting crafty,” he told them. “We all need to keep our wits about us and if we see anything unusual, assume it is a trap. Nobody goes anywhere on their own. Understand?”

  Everyone nodded. “Well this is going to be a fun journey,” Patrick observed sourly.

  “Then we should make it as short as possible,” Tor said loudly. “Everyone get ready to move out.” They had not eaten, but none of them had an appetite any more so they obeyed the order wordlessly.

  Chapter 13

  The following night, Nizari spotted Hawk flying above the group of trees he was hiding in and swore silently to himself. Killing the vampire with poisoned animals had been a long shot, but he was still disappointed to see that it had not worked. The vampire flying overhead also meant that the rest of the group were a lot closer than he had been expecting. They were travelling at a much greater rate since changing direction and he was curious as to the reason. He also wanted to know where they were heading. He had managed to stay on the right road so far, but soon it would split into two and he had no idea which route they would take. Unless he could find a way to ascertain their intended destination, he would have to go back to following them, thus reducing his chances of successfully killing any of them.

  With the vampire out hunting, he knew he could do nothing more that night, as he would have to keep himself hidden, so he pulled his cloak tighter around him and went to sleep.

  He woke with the first rays of sun and, after emptying his bladder, climbed a tree to see if his intended victims were in sight. They weren’t, but he did see something else that was filled with possibilities. A group of travellers were walking down the road towards him. They were on foot, so sooner or later Tor and his friends would catch up to them. He took his purse out of his tunic and felt its weight. Smiling to himself, he removed a few gold coins and made his way out of the trees and onto the road to await the newcomers.

  “Greetings,” he called out to them when they were close enough that he did not have to shout.

  The man who led the group responded in kind and introduced himself and his wife and children. They came from the last village the assassin had passed and were headed over to the next one to visit his wife’s family. It would take them most of the day to get there on foot so they only managed to make the trek a few times a year.

  Nizari looked at them carefully as the man spoke. They were not underfed, but their clothes were old and worn, indicating that they were poor, but not destitute. He exchanged pleasantries with the family for a short while, then took the coins out of his pocket.

  “How would you like to earn a little money?” he asked as he played with them, flicking one up with his thumb and catching it, then repeating the manoeuvre with the next.

  The woman looked horrified and gathered her children behind her as her husband confronted him. “What are you su
ggesting?” he asked angrily.

  Nizari stepped back and held his hands in front of him defensively. “I have no idea what you thought I was going to say, but I can assure you I meant no harm to anyone,” he said calmly. “I need a small favour, that is all. Nothing dangerous or illegal.”

  “What?” the man asked gruffly. He still had his fists raised, ready to hit the assassin if he did not like what he said.

  “There are some people travelling along this road that should overtake you sometime later today. I just need to know where they are going.”

  “Why?” the woman asked suspiciously.

  “They have something that belongs to me,” Nizari said. “If I know where they are heading, I can get there ahead of them and have the city guards waiting for them when they arrive.” He lied so smoothly the family did not even suspect he was being dishonest.

  What he said sounded reasonable, so the man lowered his fists. “What do you want us to do?”

  “And how much are you willing to pay?” the wife asked.

  Nizari smiled and tossed the coins at the man, who deftly caught them. “These are gold,” he exclaimed in surprise.

  “That is just the down payment,” Nizari informed him. “Find out where the people I mentioned are going and I will give you the same again when you pass on the information to me.”

  “The thing that they possess must be very valuable,” the man said, “for you to offer so much.”

  “Oh it is,” Nizari told him. “It most certainly is.” ‘Someone’s life is a valuable thing indeed,’ he thought to himself.

  “How will we recognise them?” the woman asked, while her husband stood staring at the coins in his hand. “How will we know we have the right group of people?”

  “These are unmistakeable. They are travelling with a coffin.”

  Tor and his friends continued travelling well into the morning, eventually stopping to rest when the sun was nearing its highest point. The assassin had remained in the tress and would follow after the group once they had passed him, so he saw them approaching. He moved deeper into the undergrowth so as not to be seen and was not at all pleased when he saw them stop.