The Assassin

by Trudie Collins

  “It was a calmette adder,” Tor told them. “We found it in a basket and Hawk released it.”

  Brin whistled. Of those present, he was the only one who knew what a calmette adder was. Sam glanced at him. “It is a venomous snake,” he explained, “but is not usually deadly, though some have been known to die of heart attacks when they can no longer take the pain. The venom is said to burn along the veins. How many times was he bitten?”

  “Too many to count,” Tor replied.

  “Saying Patrick was tortured is an understatement,” Nosmas said. “He was also covered in a paste developed by wizards to cause intense pain. It feels like it is eating away the skin, but in fact it causes no damage.”

  “He had some in his eyes,” Ria said softly.

  Ellen stood up. “I cannot bear to hear any more,” she said and hurriedly left the room. Tor followed her, catching up with her just as she was about to enter the room Patrick was in. He took hold of her arm and led her to his own room and made her sit on the bed.

  “He will be alright,” he assured her, but she shook her head; there was no way he could know that. Tears began to flow down her cheeks as she finally let go of her self-control and started to wail. Tor took her in his arms and held her tight, knowing there was nothing else he could do.

  Chapter 19

  The first thing Patrick felt when he awoke was relief. While his entire body ached, he no longer felt any pain. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn’t. Then he heard voices, softly talking nearby, and held his breath, hoping he had not yet given away the fact that he was conscious once more. The pain would not begin again until his captors knew he was back in the land of the living and he wished to postpone it for as long as possible.

  He heard footsteps approaching and knew he had given himself away. “I think he is coming round,” a familiar voice said. “Patrick, can you hear me?” Sam asked as she gently brushed his hair away from his forehead with her hand.

  He tried to speak, but his throat was too raw to emit anything other than a low moan.

  “I will get Ellen,” Brin said, but Sam grabbed his arm before he could move out of reach.

  “Help me sit him up first,” she requested. Between them, they managed to get Patrick into a sitting position and prop him up on pillows without hurting him too much. Brin left the room and Sam began to unwind the bandages that were wrapped around his head, covering his eyes.

  “When I take this off,” Sam instructed, “keep your eyes closed. Nosmas said the paste should not have damaged your eyes, but we are taking no chances.” Patrick nodded his understanding. He desperately wanted to see, but was in no position to argue.

  Once the bandage had been removed, he felt Sam place a cup in his hand. “It is only water,” she said apologetically, “but Ellen said you were not to have anything stronger for a while. Sip it or you will make yourself sick.”

  He did as instructed, though the cool water was so soothing he longed to gulp it down. The cup was empty all too soon and Sam took it from his hand. The door opened and he instinctively turned his head towards it.

  “Ellen,” he croaked, recognising her footsteps, and he could no longer keep his eyes closed. The lights in the room made them water and he had to resist the urge to rub them, but his vision had not been affected.

  “We will leave you two alone,” Brin said, taking Sam’s hand and dragging her from the room.

  “Oh Patrick,” Ellen gasped, bursting into tears, and ran into his outstretched arms. He winced as she hugged him, but would not let her pull away when she tried to. They did not speak; no words were needed. How long they stayed like that, they did not know, but they were finding so much comfort in each other’s arms that neither wanted to move.

  Eventually Patrick spoke. “Do you know any spells that will wipe my memory?” he asked.

  Ellen shook her head. “If there was any way I could make you forget what that man did to you I would have already done it.”

  Patrick laughed mirthlessly. “I can live with the pain I suffered. It is what his sister did that I want to forget.” He squeezed her hand, wincing as the movement caused pain to shoot up his arm. “There is something I need to tell you.”

  He explained what had happened. He did not have to tell her; there was no way she would find out if he kept quiet, but he felt that it would cause a wedge between them if he did not make a full confession. “I feel violated,” he admitted when he had finished. “Please can I have a bath? I want that woman’s stink off me.”

  “I will see what I can do,” Ellen assured him, understanding how he must feel. “I do not want you to get your feet wet, but you should be able to relax in a bath if you keep your legs over the side.”

  She kissed him on the lips then left the room, heading down the stairs in search of Nosmas or Tor. She found them both in the inn’s main room, drinking with the rest of their companions. Other than River and Grimmel, everyone else seemed to be present.

  “How is he?” Ria asked when she noticed Ellen approaching, but the witch did not hear her question. Her eyes had fallen on Isma and the fury that overwhelmed her blocked out all of her other senses.

  Screaming like a wild animal, Ellen launched herself at the unsuspecting woman, closed her hands around her throat and began to squeeze.

  For a moment, everyone was too shocked to react. They could never imagine the Ellen they knew acting so violently. Then there was a flurry of movement as Brin and Tor physically dragged Ellen away from Isma and the ladies checked that Isma had not been hurt.

  Tor forced Ellen to turn around and look at him. “Isma is not responsible for what happened to Patrick,” he said calmly. “She may have helped, but did not realise what her brother was going to do to him. She came to find us as soon as she could. If it was not for her, Patrick would be dead.”

  “You do not know the half of it,” Ellen snarled at him. “I want her out of my sight.”

  Tor turned to Isma. “Leave us,” he ordered.

  “But my brother will kill me if I am left alone,” she protested.

  “And Ellen will kill you if you stay with us,” Seth pointed out. “She is a witch. I know I would not be able to sleep at night with her close by if she was after my blood.”

  “But you would not let her harm me,” Isma continued. The look she received from every person present told her all she needed to know. If Ellen believed she had the right to kill Isma, none of them would do anything to stop her a second time. Without further argument, Isma stood up and left the inn. Nobody saw where she went and none of them cared.

  Ellen was not questioned about her reasons for attacking the woman. They had heard enough about what had happened to Patrick to know they did not want to hear any more. She had obviously learnt from Patrick something that had sickened her more than the torture the assassin had put him through had done, but they were all happy to accept Ellen’s assessment of the severity of what Isma did without needing to know any details.

  “Patrick needs a bath,” Ellen announced once Isma had gone. “He cannot get his feet wet so I am going to need help getting him into it.”

  “Of course,” Tor said. “There is a bath house out the back. I will arrange for us to have exclusive use of it for as long as you need.”

  “I will get Patrick,” Nosmas volunteered and left the room.

  “Anything we can do to help?” Sam asked, but Ellen shook her head.

  “No. A warm bath will ease his aching muscles and a hot meal will be needed once we have finished, but there is nothing else we can do for him for now. His legs will take a few days to heal so he will have to ride in the wagon if we are to leave tonight.”

  “We will stay here as long as you say we have to,” Brin assured her.

  She nodded her thanks and went with Tor to find the bath house and heat the water in one of the tubs.

  “How are you feeling?” Nosmas asked as he entered the bedroom. Patrick was still sitting up, but looked awful.

  “Terrible,” he
replied. “I hurt all over, but at least I am alive.”

  “Is it too soon to tell you you are an idiot?”

  Patrick laughed. “I already know that. I certainly will not be going off anywhere alone again while that man is still on the loose. I wanted to arrange a surprise for Ellen. Next time I think I will confide in one of you first.”

  “Wise idea,” Nosmas agreed. “Ellen is organising you a bath and I am here to carry you down to it.”

  “Thanks,” Patrick said, then peered under the blankets at his body. “But I would prefer not to be paraded through the inn naked. It is going to be embarrassing enough being carried like a child.”

  Nosmas grinned. “I will cover you up,” he promised. Then his eyes fell on the bandages around Patrick’s chest. “Your ribs should be completely healed by now, so have Ellen take a look when she removes the bandages.”

  Patrick nodded and Nosmas pulled one of the blankets off the bed. He wrapped Patrick up as gently as he could, but the patient still sucked in his breath sharply as he was picked up.

  “Sorry,” Nosmas said.

  “Do not worry about it,” Patrick replied between clenched teeth.

  By the time they arrived at the bath house, Ellen had one of the tubs full and had heated the water to the temperature she wanted. Nosmas lowered Patrick into the water, blanket and all, then said he would wait outside and guard the door. Having his legs dangling over the side was not comfortable, but Patrick did not complain. The water was warm, but not hot, and gently soothed him as he relaxed down into it.

  Tor left them alone, saying they would need to leave at sundown. He returned to the inn’s main room and advised everyone to get some sleep. Not wanting to take any risks, they were sharing rooms. Nosmas and Quartilla were bunking down with River and Grimmel so Tor escorted Quartilla to her room before retiring with Sam and Brin to the one the three of them were sharing. Ria left with Seth and Dal.

  Ellen removed the wet blanket, throwing it in a corner before turning her attention to the bandages around Patrick’s ribs. She prodded them gently once the bandages had been removed, making him wince, but was happy to announce that they were healed and it was only the bruising that was causing him pain. She took a clean cloth from a pile and began to wash him. She was so gentle he found he could not keep his eyes open and he began to doze. He awoke when she began to wash his face.

  “Welcome back. How are you feeling?” she asked as she put the wash cloth aside and began to massage his scalp.

  “Better,” he told her.

  “Good, because it is time to get out.” She called for Nosmas and laid a dry towel on the floor beside the tub while waiting for him to enter. He rolled up his sleeves, then lifted Patrick out, laying him down on the towel so Ellen could dry him. He was then wrapped in another towel and carried back to his room.

  “Do you know how to seal the door?” Nosmas asked once Patrick was in bed.

  Ellen shook her head, so the wizard spent a few minutes teaching her the spell and the counter-spell. Once he was satisfied that she was proficient in both, he bid them a good afternoon and retired to his own room. River was fast asleep beside Grimmel, but Quartilla was still awake. She confirmed that the dwarf was still showing no signs of waking, so the spell to keep him in a coma would not need to be reapplied yet. Nosmas climbed into bed beside the girl, took her in his arms and instructed her to get some sleep. He breathed a small sigh of relief when she did so without suggesting they have any fun first. She had been coming on strong recently and he did not know how much more he could take.

  Once they were alone, Ellen undressed and slid under the covers beside Patrick. “I need you to do me a favour,” he said.

  “You know I would do anything for you. You only have to ask,” she told him. There was no sarcasm in her voice and he knew she was being serious.

  “I have thought of a way to help erase my memories,” he continued. She looked at him quizzically. “Replace them with new ones,” he explained.

  It took her a moment to figure out what he was saying. “No,” she said sadly. “It will cause you too much pain. Let your body heal a little more first.”

  “Please. I beg you.” Tears were beginning to form in his eyes. “I would go down on my knees, but I am afraid I will not be able to get up again.”

  She could see in his face the emotional pain he had experienced and realised that this had done him more damage than the physical pain had. “Alright,” she agreed and kissed him passionately. The way he kissed her told her he needed a lot more than just sex from her, so she gave him everything she had.

  He was still sitting upright, but when she suggested that he would be more comfortable laying down he almost screamed at her, making her doubt he would ever make love to a woman while flat on his back ever again.

  She was as slow and gentle as she could be, but he still winced when her hands touched the more badly bruised parts of his body. His hands and mouth were all over her, making the experience as different to that he had endured with Isma as possible. He touched her in ways he knew she liked, ensuring she enjoyed having him as much as he was enjoying it.

  When it was over, they lay awake in each other’s arms, satisfied both physically and emotionally.

  “I love you,” he told her before closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep.

  After leaving the cave, Nizari rode for a while, not thinking about where he was heading or what his next move was; he just wanted to put some distance between himself and Tor. When he eventually stopped, he dismounted and sat beside a stream, looking into the water, but not really seeing it. He let his mind drift as thoughts and ideas swirled around his head, allowing them to solidify in their own time.

  His primary concern was how his cave had been found. Tor and his friends had gone straight to it; it was not a chance find. They had to know precisely where to go and there was only one possible answer. Isma. She had betrayed him.

  He decided that his best plan for the time being was to return to the city and follow his intended victims until a new idea could be worked out. But first he needed to find his sister. He was curious as to whether Patrick had died, or what condition he was in if he had managed to survive, and he was sure she would know. The collar would have killed him the next time it tightened and it would have been a close call as to whether the wizard would have been able to remove it in time.

  Isma would be running scared, if she had any sense. She knew him well enough to know he would manage to work out what she had done and would come looking for her. But he was skilled at tracking people down and was confident it would not take him long to find her. It was a reunion he was going to enjoy.

  Not knowing what else to do, Isma returned to the inn where she had taken a room. She opened the door, walked into the room, and screamed.

  “Hello sis,” her brother said in a friendly fashion. “You appear to have forgotten to return with my food.”

  She started to back away, but he shook his head at her. “Do you really think there is anywhere you can hide where I will not be able to find you?”

  Knowing he was right, she closed the door, ready to accept her fate.

  “There is no need to look so scared,” he continued. “I am not going to hurt you. After all, we are family. I just want to know why you did it.”

  “You went too far,” she told him. “You were supposed to make him suffer a bit then kill him. I could not take hearing him scream anymore.”

  Nizari then surprised her by agreeing. “I was unprofessional,” he confessed, “and that caused me to miss out on the opportunity to kill one of my targets. I need to keep focused on the job. That is one of two valuable lessons I have learned. Now come and give your brother a hug.”

  He was being so reasonable that Isma began to relax. She walked into his outstretched arms and they hugged each other the way family should. “What is the other?” she asked.

  “Never trust anyone,” he told her as he took hold of her head and twisted it round sha
rply, breaking her neck.

  Tor, Brin, Hawk and Seth were pouring over a map when Ellen walked into the taproom. The sun had set and it would soon be time to leave, so she had gone in search of someone to carry Patrick down the stairs. Despite his insistence that he could walk, she wanted him to keep his weight off his feet for a while longer. He had grumbled and complained, but eventually agreed to allow her to baby him, as he put it, for another night.

  “Change of plans?” she asked, peering over Brin’s shoulder.

  “Not exactly,” Tor replied. “We were just discussing which road we should take. While it is a shorter route to go through Kinfen then Fester to reach Thauma, due to the quality of the roads, it might be quicker to keep heading north and enter Thauma from Janton.”

  “On top of that,” Seth took over, “it will give us the opportunity to visit Queen Helen. We know what the assassin looks like. If we can have his description distributed as a wanted criminal it might slow him down if nothing else.”

  “Good idea,” she agreed. “When do you want to leave?”

  “As soon as everyone is ready,” Tor told her. Ellen requested help with Patrick and was informed that Nosmas was in the process of moving Grimmel to the wagon and would offer his assistance as soon as he had finished.

  A short while later, the wagon was loaded with bags, supplies, Grimmel, River and Patrick. Seth was seated in the driving seat and everyone else was mounted on their horses. Tor announced that they would be heading towards Helen’s palace in Janton and everyone agreed it was the best strategy.

  The journey was uneventful. The assassin made no more attempts on their lives, but they were sure he must be close by, watching them. They continued to travel at night and post guards while sleeping during daylight hours. Patrick’s body continued to heal and after a few days Ellen allowed him to ride his horse once more.

  His experience, however, continued to haunt him and he frequently tossed and turned as he slept, sometimes waking everyone up by screaming. They were all sympathetic and understanding, assuming he was reliving what the assassin had done to him whenever he closed his eyes. Only Ellen suspected that it was what Isma did that was really invading his sleep.