The Assassin

by Trudie Collins

  “You heard the man,” Tor announced. “Everyone get your gear. We leave in ten.”

  They crossed the border without any difficulties and the sun was just beginning to set when they rode into Quarm, Thauma’s capital. “Will you wait until morning,” Tor asked Nosmas, “or seek out the Chancellor now?”

  Nosmas looked at the sky and decided it was still early enough to visit the Chancellor. “I will go tonight,” he announced. Then he glanced into the wagon. “It is best if I take Grimmel and River with me.”

  Tor nodded his understanding. They rode along the main road until they came to an inn and Tor called to Seth to stop the wagon. “Providing they have room, we will stay here.”

  Nosmas dismounted and climbed into the back of the wagon. “Come with me,” he instructed River as he picked up Grimmel’s body.

  “Good luck,” Patrick called out as he watched the wizard stride away down the road, closely followed by River. “You are going to need it.”

  Chapter 22

  While Tor organised rooms at the inn, Nosmas took River and Grimmel to visit the Chancellor. He had no idea if he would be home, but was hopeful that one of his servants would know his whereabouts if he was not. Remembering the way from his previous visit, he went directly to the Chancellor’s house. At first glance it appeared to be a plain two storey structure, but once Nosmas got close enough, the illusion spell that had been placed on it was no longer effective, revealing a large ornate structure made from pure gold.

  Nosmas knocked on the door, kicking it open with impatience when he did not receive an immediate response. “Chancellor,” he called out loudly as he made his way down the corridor, carrying Grimmel’s inert body. River clung close to him like a frightened rabbit. A door opened ahead of them and Olan walked out.

  “How dare you,” he started to say, then he realised who he was addressing. “Nosmas,” he said in surprise. “What brings you here?”

  “I need help,” the big man told him. “My friend here has chilopoda eggs on his brain. I have managed to delay their hatching, but they need to be removed before I can wake him up. Will your father know of a spell?”

  “If he does not, I am sure one of the council will. Come with me,” Olan instructed. He led them to his father’s study, which he entered without knocking. The Chancellor was sitting behind his desk, reading a document, and looked up when he heard the door open. His frown at being disturbed turned into a smile when he saw Nosmas, but it fell from his face when his eyes took in Grimmel’s still form. He looked a lot like Olan, only older, and his eyes were green instead of brown. There was more grey in his hair since the last time Nosmas had seen him, but that was the only sign that he had aged at all.

  Instead of welcoming his guest, he got right down to business. “What do you need from me?” Nosmas outlined what had befallen Grimmel and what the consequences were going to be should the eggs be allowed to develop into larvae, then asked if anyone in Thauma could help. During the entire conversation, River stood nervously behind him, unnoticed.

  “I know of no spell I am afraid,” the Chancellor said sadly. “But the council is meeting in the morning. Can your short friend survive another night?” Nosmas confirmed that this would not be a problem and the Chancellor instructed his son to organise rooms for Nosmas and Grimmel.

  “The young lady will stay with the dwarf,” Nosmas informed them, stepping aside so they could see River, who shrank back timidly.

  “A water sprite,” Olan exclaimed, then remembered his manners and introduced himself. He held out his hand and River looked at Nosmas, who nodded. She took the outstretched hand in hers, but instead of shaking it, Olan lifted it to his lips and kissed it gently. “We are honoured to have you as our guest,” he told her. “I promise we will do everything we can to help your...” He paused, wondering what the relationship was. “Boyfriend?” he tried.

  “Fiancé,” River replied, taking Nosmas by surprise.

  Olan departed, returning a short time later to escort the visitors to their rooms. River refused to leave Grimmel’s side, so food was delivered to her and she was left alone. Nosmas was becoming increasingly concerned for her well-being. She had not eaten properly since Ellen had announced what was wrong with the dwarf and he was sure she was not sleeping for any longer than an hour at a time either. She seemed to be constantly checking that Grimmel was still unconscious and that his skin was still warm to the touch. If they did not find a cure for him soon, Nosmas was afraid both of them would be lost.

  He voiced his concerns to the Chancellor as they ate together later that evening. “It is understandable,” the man replied. “She seems very attached to him.”

  “More than I realised,” Nosmas confirmed. “Just before he was struck down, they had a huge fight and she said she wanted nothing more to do with him. It is amazing how something like this can change your mind.”

  The Chancellor nodded. “Saying you never want to see someone again and never being able to are two very different things,” he agreed. “As your mother found out. How is she by the way?”

  “Dead.” Nosmas said it so casually that the Chancellor thought he must have misheard.

  “Dead?” he asked. “How?”

  “It is a long story,” Nosmas replied and proceeded to tell him all about the assassin hunting down those who took part in the quest and how he had found out too late to save his mother. They talked long into the night before eventually retiring to their beds.

  The following day, Nosmas was escorted to the council chamber. He was left in a waiting room while the meeting was formally opened. The room was small, but comfortably furnished and Nosmas was more than happy to wait. He had attended a few meetings in the past, usually with his father, so he was well aware of the procedure. Once the appointed time arrived, whether all council members had arrived or not, the formal entry doors would be closed and magically sealed shut, preventing anyone outside of the council chamber seeing or hearing what went on inside. There were a number of visitors rooms attached to the chamber, one of which Nosmas was in. Its doors would be unsealed to allow the occupants to enter should the council members agree to them addressing the council personally. This did not happen often as usually all petitioners were represented by a council member who spoke on their behalf.

  From where he was sitting, Nosmas could hear voices coming from the council chamber, but he did not attempt to listen. The wizards knew they could be overheard so would not be discussing anything of interest. A short while later he heard the boom of the main doors closing, then everything fell silent.

  Inside the council chamber, the Chancellor stood up. All talking had ceased the moment the doors closed and everyone present looked at him expectantly.

  “Thank you all for coming today,” he said, his voice magically enhanced so all of the wizards could hear him without him having to shout. “Before we get down to the usual business, I have a petitioner that would like to address you.” He looked around and saw familiar faces, all looking bored.

  “If you know why he is here, why not tell us yourself?” someone called out.

  The Chancellor shrugged his shoulders. “I just thought you would want to hear from him directly,” he said casually. This caught their attention.

  “Who is it?” someone else called out.

  “Nosmas,” he replied. “Bellak’s son.”

  The room filled with murmuring. Since his death, Bellak’s name had become notorious, as had that of his son. Nosmas wishing to speak to the council indicated either something highly unusual that he needed help with, or something politically important.

  “I vote we allow him to enter,” a new voice called out.

  “Seconded,” another voice sounded to the Chancellor’s left.

  “All those in favour?” the Chancellor asked. Red lights shone up from each occupied seat. It was unanimous, but the next question had to be asked anyway. “Anyone against?” No red lights appeared, so he called out, “Agreement has been reached. Open the do
or to room number 3.”

  Locked in his silent room, Nosmas was oblivious to what had just happened. The first he knew of it was when the door between the room he was in and the council chamber began to open. Taking this as an invitation, he stood up and entered the chamber. It was pretty much as he remembered it; an enormous room with enough tiered seating to house all five hundred council members. As had been the case the other times he had been permitted entry, less than half were occupied.

  The Chancellor was standing on a raised dais in the centre and called him forward. He made his way along the aisle and a number of wizards greeted him as he passed. Some he recognised and returned their greeting, but most he did not. The room was filled with an excited buzzing, which ceased the moment he stepped onto the dais. Nosmas glanced at the Chancellor, who nodded that he could begin.

  “Thank you for allowing me to speak to you,” he said loudly. “I have a favour to ask of you.” Those nearest to him were leaning forward and everyone appeared to be holding their breath in expectation. More than one was expecting him to publically challenge the Chancellor.

  “I have a sick friend and I need your help to cure him.” The sound of many disappointed wizards all exhaling at once filled the room. “A chilopoda has crawled through his ear and lain its eggs on his brain,” Nosmas continued. “I have temporarily halted the eggs development and my friend is currently in a coma, but I cannot keep him in this state forever. Does anyone know how to remove the eggs without killing him?”

  At this, the excited buzzing started again as the wizards began talking to each other. There was nothing they liked more than being able to show off their skills in new ways.

  “Silence,” the Chancellor’s voice boomed out. “If anyone has a suggestion to make, please raise your hand and I will address you one at a time.” The room fell silent once more as hands shot into the air.

  The next hour passed quickly as numerous council members put forward suggestions. All of them were good, but flaws were inevitably found, resulting in them being discarded. Eventually, when frustration was beginning to set in, one of the youngest wizards had an idea.

  “Instead of using one spell, why not use a combination?” he suggested.

  “You know spells can go wrong when used together,” an elderly wizard said disdainfully, but Nosmas thought he knew where the younger man was heading and asked him to continue.

  “Your spell can keep him unconscious,” he explained. “I heard someone mention that he would be able to keep your friend breathing, no matter what happens to his brain, and another said he could keep his heart beating. I know a spell that can be used to remove part of his skull, exposing the brain and the eggs, and I am sure that someone here knows how to fuse bone together so we can fix the skull when we are done.”

  “A good example on how working as a team is better than working as individuals,” the Chancellor said with approval. “But how will we remove the eggs?”

  “I think I know a way,” Nosmas said. “As long as you do not mind working with a woman.”

  There were splutters of indignation, bringing a smile to Nosmas’s face; he had expected no less from some of the older council members.

  “You have brought a witch with you?” the Chancellor asked. Nosmas nodded. “Then I call for a vote,” he said loudly, addressing the entire council. “All those in favour?” Red lights filled the room. “Anyone against?” Only a few patches of red appeared, so the motion was carried. Now all that was needed was to decide who would take part. Less than an hour later, Nosmas was striding down the main street of the city in search of the inn where the others were staying.

  He found them all in the taproom, playing cards and drinking ale. He scowled at Quartilla who, understanding the look on his face, tipped her mug so he could see it contained only water.

  “How did it go?” Tor asked. A message had been sent to the inn the previous evening so he was aware that Nosmas, River and Grimmel had stayed at the Chancellor’s house and that Nosmas would attend the council meeting.

  “We plan on trying a combination of spells to keep Grimmel alive while part of his skull is removed and the eggs cleaned away from his brain.”

  “You plan to do what?” Seth asked as Dal choked on her ale.

  Nosmas ignored the interruption. “If Ellen is willing to help out, that is.”

  “Of course,” she said. “When and where do you plan to give this a try?”

  “The Chancellor’s house, this afternoon,” he told her.

  It was agreed that everyone else would remain in the inn while Nosmas escorted Ellen. The hour for their departure arrived and they were almost out of the door when Patrick stood up and began to follow them. “Where do you think you are going?” Tor asked him.

  “With Ellen,” he said, as though the answer was obvious.

  “I think Nosmas is more than capable of looking after her. Besides, there is no longer an assassin out to kill us, remember.”

  Patrick looked at Tor as though he was a child. “Just because we caught one, does not mean there is not another. Albian could easily hire someone else, or try to do the job himself.”

  Though nobody wanted to admit it, he had a point. “Ellen still does not need a babysitter,” Tor continued.

  Patrick looked at Brin. “If it was Sam going with Nosmas, would you be going along?” he asked.

  “Of course,” came the expected reply.

  “See,” Patrick said to Tor, then left the inn before the Prince could complain.

  He ran to catch up with the others as they were entering the courtyard to collect the wagon, grateful for the smile Ellen gave him as she took his arm.

  By the time they arrived at the Chancellor’s house, the other wizards were already there. River spotted Ellen and ran up to her. She looked terrified. “Have you heard what they are planning to do?” she cried out in a broken voice. Ellen nodded. “You have to stop them. They will kill him.”

  “Come with me,” Ellen said gently as she took the young sprite’s hand and led her to a nearby sofa. “What we are going to do is extremely dangerous, but it has to be done. If we do nothing, Grimmel will die. At least this way he stands some chance of surviving.”

  River heard only one word. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

  “I will be the one to actually remove the eggs,” she told her, unsure whether this would be taken as good or bad news. “But we will not go ahead without your permission.” She could see Patrick standing close to her and noticed his raised eyebrows. She breathed a sigh of relief when he did not comment.

  River was staring into space, tears falling unnoticed down her face. “I am going to lose him,” she said quietly. Then she turned to Nosmas, who had walked over to inform Ellen that they were ready. “Can you wake him up so I can tell him how much I love him? It may be my last chance.”

  Nosmas shook his head regretfully. “We cannot risk waking him until the eggs have been removed,” he told her as gently as he could. She nodded her head in understanding.

  Patrick sat on the sofa beside River and took her in his arms. “Go,” he said to Ellen. “I will look after her.” Ellen nodded and followed Nosmas down the corridor, leaving River crying into Patrick’s shirt.

  Nosmas led Ellen to a room at the back of the house, where she found Grimmel laying on a small table. He appeared to be only sleeping, but she knew that was not the case. Wizards sat on chairs around him, one holding his arm as though checking for a pulse, while another had placed his hands on the dwarf’s chest. A large portion of Grimmel’s hair had already been shaved, exposing the skin.

  Before the operation could begin, Nosmas performed introductions. “The wizard holding Grimmel’s wrist is Ansaldo, he will monitor his heartbeat. He has already spoken the spell to keep it going no matter what we do to Grimmel.” The man was old, with a long white beard that rested on his knees.

  “The wizard directly opposite him is Messer. His job is to keep Grimmel breathing.” The man Nosmas was talking about w
as staring intently at Grimmel’s chest and his lips were constantly moving as though he was murmuring a spell over and over again. He did not look up. “Although you cannot see his chest moving,” Nosmas explained, “he is in fact still breathing very shallowly.”

  Next he pointed to a man sitting by Grimmel’s feet. “This is the Chancellor,” Nosmas continued. “He is here just as an observer.”

  “And to help out should anything go wrong,” the Chancellor said. “Not that anything will,” he quickly added.

  “My job,” Nosmas explained, “is to make sure Grimmel does not wake up. I am fairly certain he will not, but I will remain in the room and can easily knock him out should he show any signs of stirring.”

  Lastly Nosmas introduced a young looking man seated at Grimmel’s head. “Woden over there will be the one who removes part of the skull, allowing you access to the brain. Everyone, this is Ellen. She will do the delicate job of actually removing the eggs.”

  Other than the Chancellor and Woden, Ellen did not receive any acknowledgement of her presence, but she had not been expecting any. Most wizards, especially those who lived in Thauma, regarded witches as charlatans with no real skills or power. No matter how good a job she did today, the older ones would not change their view so there was no point in her even trying to speak with them.

  “I need a bowl of warm, clean water, a number of fresh cloths and a sharp knife,” she told a servant who was standing close by, awaiting instructions. The man looked towards the Chancellor, seeking approval before leaving the room and returning a few moments later with the requested objects.

  “Are you ready?” Nosmas asked her. She nodded, so he instructed Woden to begin.

  The young wizard placed one hand on Grimmel’s head, closed his eyes and began to talk softly. Ellen could not hear what he was saying, but the spell was obviously working. She stared in amazement as the skin around Woden’s hand began to split apart, as though being cut with a sharp knife. Surprisingly there was no blood. It looked as though the blood vessels were sealing themselves as soon as they were severed. When Woden fell silent, he removed his hand and was able to pull an area of skin away from the skull, leaving it dangling down so it almost touched the table.