Dragon Assassin

by Arthur Slade

  A figure in a red robe, face hidden by a cowl, strode past me. I couldn’t tell whether it was a man or a woman — it might even have been Banderius himself. The three hundred and eight gates of the fortress were being opened by the returning assassins who came to witness graduation. Sometimes they even offered jobs to graduates.

  When I was back at my room, I closed the door. The emperor’s death was a major event … made doubly important because his son had died only a few days earlier. The Akkad Empire was now whirling with threats of war — and with a boiling anger toward assassins. Perhaps it was not safe to graduate tonight and step outside the fortress.

  In time, I remembered the fact that I’d be spending a year under Megan’s control. I’d have to follow her every command and would help her to make money and become known. A full year! The punishment was worse than the crime.

  This was one of the harshest sentences I’d heard of. Yes, there was that chance of permanent paralysis. But one thing I was gifted at was finding pressure points. I was certain no harm would have come to Megan. Unless someone had bumped her and she fell over.

  Maestru Alesius must have wanted me to learn a lesson.

  Humility. That is what it was. That was why he said I’d never be a full-fledged assassin. How could he say those words? He’d always had a layer of kindness beneath his actions.

  A swift knock-knock-knock came to my door. I opened it, and Corwin pushed his way in.

  “How goes the battle, sister?”

  “It goes.” I didn’t want to get into the experience with Maestru Alesius. Corwin might gloat.

  “So, you had a run-in with the maestrus and with Megan.”

  “How did you know?” I asked.

  “I know most everything that goes on around here, sis. What penalty did you get?”

  I told him. He rubbed his chin. “That’s harsh.” He said this with a bit of commiseration, as though he understood what I was feeling.

  I nodded. “It’s horrible.”

  “Alesius is set in his ways. A traditionalist through and through.”

  “It’s Maestru Alesius,” I said.

  “Oh, yes, Maestru Alesius. Thanks for the correction. He thinks in the old ways, and thus you get punished when you should have been rewarded for displaying such pressure point skill.”

  “Then everyone would be using the pressure points that way.”

  “Bah. Only the best would, while the weaker ones cowered. Stop defending Alesius.” I didn’t suggest he add “maestru” this time. “Do you ever wonder if your loyalty is misplaced? You’ve done every deed he’s asked of you, and now look at your reward. A year of slavery.”

  I did pause to think about that. Perhaps if Maestru Alesius had only given me a fortnight or two. But a year. A year! He could have stepped in and adjusted the sentence.

  “Do you want me to kill Megan?” Corwin asked.

  “What?”

  He examined his impeccable fingernails. “It wouldn’t be the first time an assassin found a way out of a contract.”

  “But they would know it was me. And besides that, it’s wrong.”

  “I was kidding, sister. I’d never do that. It’s against guild rules. Though six months into your drudgery and you might be tracking me down to see if I really was kidding.”

  “Never!”

  He shrugged a perfect “I know better than you” shrug. “Anyway, the big news is that the emperor is dead.”

  “How do you know that already? Did Megan tell you?”

  “How would Megan know? And you?”

  “We were both there when the messenger told Maestru Alesius.”

  “Well, I guess he trusts you enough to let you have that knowledge. But I learned through other means. As I said, I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

  He had such a huge view of how powerful he was. I couldn’t imagine what he’d be like when he graduated. I sometimes wished I had half his confidence. Or maybe I did have it before he took out my eye.

  “What do you think the emperor’s death will mean?” I asked.

  “Oh, it’s very bad news for assassins. Word is that it was poison again. Sargon, his younger brother, is now the emperor, and he loathes assassins. His mother was poisoned a few years ago. I wonder where he will point his hatred. Perhaps it’s a bad time to hang out your shingle as an assassin. We’ll all graduate and then go directly into hiding.”

  I leaned against my dresser. “It’s that bad?”

  “You haven’t walked the streets of the Empire. Do you ever get out of this rotting fortress?”

  “Yes! And two trips to Akkadium do not count as much when you’re there as your maestru’s helper.”

  “It’s farther than you’ve ever gone. Just the carcass pits of Ogra. My maestru had to sleep. I didn’t. I walked the streets. The ill will toward us is very strong in the Empire. And in the Five Realms too. We don’t have to worry while we’re here … no one has ever taken this fortress. Outside these gates, we’ll have to tread carefully.”

  “That is how they teach us to tread.”

  “True. You are wise beyond your meagre years.” Again, that sardonic smile. “Meet me here tonight before the ceremony. I have a gift for you.”

  “A gift?”

  “Yes, it’s a new family tradition. When one does something wonderful, one gets a gift. Your graduation should be celebrated.”

  “You got me a gift?” I repeated.

  “You hurt my feelings by being stuck on that. Yes, I did, and you’ll cherish the gift forever.”

  I opened my hands, palms outward. “But I have nothing for you.”

  “Your sisterly love is enough. Besides, once I’ve graduated, I’ll quickly earn enough wealth to buy everything I need. So, promise to meet me here at seven bells.”

  “I promise,” I said. Corwin kissed me on the forehead. It was a gesture of warmth. He turned and left my room.

  Chapter 18

  A Last Meal

  There were still three hours until graduation. The hallways were filling with more assassins in robes of several colours, though the oldest wore black. All of the assassins gathered in the dining room and waited for the graduates to serve them the pre-graduation dinner.

  As I took the steaming dishes — roast chicken, potatoes, and parsnips — to each table, I wondered who each assassin was. It looked as if there were at least one hundred who had returned. Even while they were eating, they didn’t show their faces. It was bad for business for people to know what you looked like. The dining room was remarkably quiet. The senior assassins spoke softly and only once in a while was there loud male laughter.

  When I went to remove a dirty ceramic plate from a table, the assassin sitting there grabbed my arm and twisted gently, so that we looked eye to eye. Two dark eyes were all that was visible above the cowl. “I heard about you,” the assassin said. It was a deep voice, but something about the timbre gave me the impression it was a woman speaking.

  “Oh,” I said. “I hope it was all good.”

  The assassin waved me away.

  Does that mean I’m special? More likely, since there were only fifteen graduates, every student was studied and measured. The established assassins made note of each student’s skill sets, to see whether they would be assets to their own businesses.

  For me and my fellow students, it was our last night to show our faces to each other. Once we had finished the graduation ceremony, we’d receive our red sashes, lift our hoods, and disappear through one of the gates. Only to return for future graduation ceremonies or to consult the archives or the maestrus.

  Soon the meal was done, and we were allowed five minutes to eat in the servants’ room, gulping down our soup, mutton and roasted turnips. I ate alone, though a few of the others were talking quietly to each other. Megan laughed at something, then covered her mouth because her outburst was so loud. Even Corwin was subdued. He whispered to Gregum and Scyllia. It wouldn’t surprise me if the three of them opened up a shop of their own. I made
a note to avoid wherever they ended up. I could handle my brother. His two friends were venomous snakes.

  Thord gave me a small wave from across the kitchen. I immediately looked down at my plate, suddenly amazed by the greenness of the peas.

  Tonight would be one of the last times I saw him regularly. And I did feel a bit of sadness about that.

  Don’t be silly! It’ll be great once I see the last of them all.

  Well, except Megan, I remembered. I’d be seeing a lot of her. But that was something I didn’t want to think about right now.

  As I gulped down the last of my turnips, I couldn’t help but think of Brax alone in the cave. He would still be starving.

  I washed my plate and went to my room.

  The sky, visible through the slit window, was growing dark. And I knew — because the knowledge of the heavens had been drilled into me — it was a night of no moon. Not the hunter’s moon that soldiers would talk about but an assassin’s moon; for the last two thousand years, assassins had graduated on a night of no moon.

  I removed my graduation cloak from the closet. They had been given to us three weeks earlier in preparation for this night. I placed it over my shoulders, surprised at how silken it was. The inside of the robe was black, because it could be folded inside out to become a travel cloak. I turned to look at myself in the mirror.

  I did make a striking figure, I decided, with the missing eye and all. Maybe I’d be intimidating.

  Of course, I’d do anything to actually see through both eyes again.

  When I turned the third time, I realized I was being watched.

  Chapter 19

  Advice and a Gift

  I spun, instinctively reaching for my dagger, but the intruder caught my hand, squeezed a pressure point, and the blade dropped to the floor. My assailant laughed.

  A far too familiar laugh.

  It was Corwin in his graduation cloak, reversed so he was wearing black. He flipped back his hood.

  “How did you get in here without me noticing?”

  “Perhaps it’s not just your vision you have difficulties with, but also your hearing. I picked the lock and strolled right in.”

  “Let me go.”

  He did so. “You are fast, sister. I’m just faster and quieter and smarter, that’s all.”

  “Did you come to taunt me?” I asked.

  “No. Only to give you advice and a promised gift. I am proud …” He cleared his throat. Was he actually getting emotional? “I am proud of you. In some ways, I made you.”

  “What? I made me. The maestrus made me. Our parents made me.”

  He shook his head. “You are so odd. You still feel loyalty to them even though they abandoned us here.”

  “Maybe they had no choice.”

  “They had a choice, Carmen. They abandoned us because our twin mouths were too much to feed.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I am not as much a stickler for rules as you. I snuck into the archives and looked. Our parents left a nearly illegible note with us. They were pig farmers. Imagine that! People as amazing as you and I sprang from pig farmers.”

  “What? Are they alive?”

  “Dead, just like the maestrus told us. Ma and Pa died a few years ago from red plague. It took our brothers and sisters too. We are all that remains of our family. So that is why I’m proud of you tonight and for all you’ve done. And I can guarantee you won’t have to work for Megan.”

  “I don’t want her killed.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Sister! As much as I joke about that, trust me, I won’t kill her. But there are other ways to be free of such deals.”

  “Let me handle that on my own.”

  He huffed out his exasperation. “Ever the obstinate one. You don’t have to stand alone all the time, sis.” He waited for a heartbeat or two, but I had nothing to say in reply. “Well, as I promised, I brought you a gift. Two gifts, in fact.” He presented, out of nowhere, a flag.

  I took it, and the flag unfurled, showing the golden face of a roaring bear. “A bear flag?” I said. It was silky and beautiful.

  “It’s a lucky flag that I bought at the market,” he said. “It will keep you safe. Tonight. Tomorrow night. For all the dark nights to come.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m just being superstitious, sis.” He took the flag from me and walked toward the window. “But let’s hang it now in your window. Maybe it’ll bring you good luck so you won’t trip during the ceremony.”

  “I won’t trip,” I said.

  He had already attached the flag to the curtain rod using a thin white rope and hung it out the window. The wind began to flip it back and forth, bringing it to life. “There,” he said. “A fine gift, I must say. And yes, I am being emotional … well, as emotional as I get. It’s just that tonight is a night of endings. So many rituals, practices we’ve been doing for the last four years, will end. We’ll start our new lives in just a few hours.”

  “You’re sounding like an old man, Corwin. I don’t think I’ve seen this side of you before.”

  “It’s important to remember that we’re at the brink of greatness.”

  “Greatness?” I asked.

  “Well, you know what I mean, sis. We’ll become something great. And we don’t need a red cloak and a graduation scroll to prove that. I know it inside of me.” He tapped his chest.

  I patted my graduation cloak. “I’ll be proud to wear the cloak,” I said.

  “It’s just cloth,” he said. “A true assassin holds that knowledge in his heart. Anyway, I did bring another gift.” He reached into one of my shelves and brought out a decanter. He must have left it there when he first sneaked into the room. I should have noticed it! I’d been trained to see things that are out of place. He filled two goblets.

  “Is this wine?” I asked.

  “Oh, you’re too pure for wine, Carmen. It’s cherry cider from the Heartbury Mill in Akkadium.”

  “How did you get that? It’s at least twelve denarii per glass.”

  “I have contacts in the outside world. I’ve already made many influential and powerful friends.”

  “How have you had time to do that?”

  “By starting years ago.” He offered me a goblet. “Let us drink to our health and to the memories of our pig-farming parents. And, more importantly, to the future. A bright and bloody future.”

  “I’ll drink to our future and to our parents,” I said. “And our health.” I took the cider. This was one of the sweetest drinks in all the Empire, and he had smuggled it into the fortress and was sharing it with me. Perhaps, at his heart, he was not so terrible. I took a sip.

  It was like drinking a draught from heaven. A taste that tingled with life as it went down my throat.

  “You know, you’re not so terrible.” I decided to say it out loud.

  He grinned. “Oh, you may revise that statement after tonight.”

  The sweetness of the drink was swirling in my head. It took me several moments to understand what he had said. “Why tonight? What do … you … mean?”

  The words had slurred slightly. It had been a long day, and I’d not slept properly for a very long time. Was I that tired? I still had a whole ceremony to sit through.

  “I’m just saying there’s a price to pay for having so many influential friends. So many gears are set into motion. But I don’t want you to be harmed.”

  “Wh—” I couldn’t finish the word. The drink fell from my hand, and the goblet rolled over to one side, spilling the cider. The waste!

  But I cursed myself. I’d trained for years to know the taste of every poison. I should have recognized whatever was in this drink, but it had been hidden by the sweet cherry sugary smell. He had poisoned me! I tried to move, but my body was locked in position. I attempted to open my mouth and accuse him of treachery, but my lips were frozen shut.

  Corwin stepped behind me, pulled me into his arms, and lowered me onto my bed. The poison was freezing m
e like spider venom. Was it killing my organs one by one?

  “I can see by your eye that you are panicking, sister,” he whispered. “And I am certain you don’t know the taste. It isn’t poison, though. I wouldn’t do that. It’s just a paralysis tincture. It should last for twelve hours. You’ll be safe in this room. I will lock the door behind me. And the flag will keep you safe too.”

  A sad look briefly came to his face. He patted my cheek.

  “I have hurt you enough, even if it was for my own gain. I don’t want you to be hurt again. I don’t need your forgiveness, but I will accept it someday. Now, as I said, my powerful friends are waiting. It’s nearly time for graduation. Sleep well, sister. I love you.”

  Then he left me frozen on the bed.

  I heard the door lock behind him.

  Chapter 20

  Two Warnings

  I didn’t sleep.

  Nor did I die. My brother hadn’t been lying about whatever he’d used. It was causing paralysis, yet allowed me to breathe and my heart to beat. None of my limbs would move, but my eyes blinked. That was an impressive mixture. His skills went far beyond even what he’d learned in class.

  It was almost as if he’d had another teacher outside the guild.

  There was a whistling outside my window — a sound that reminded me of hawks flying by, of wings in the air. Then a male voice spoke. My room was hundreds of feet up in the fortress and hung over a cliff. Who could possibly be out there?

  “Leave this one,” the man said. “It is marked by the bear.”

  Had I imagined the voice?

  Time passed. Whether it was minutes or hours, I couldn’t be certain. My thoughts kept whirling around and around and around.

  A bell rang. Once. From the very top of the fortress. It was the warning bell. We’d had drills many times in which each assassin would take their defensive station or disperse through the three hundred and eight doors. But the bell only rang once, and it was supposed to ring three times for danger.

  Several hundred heartbeats passed.

  I next heard the ring of metal on metal outside my door. Something thumped into the wood, and then a cry of pain was cut off.