Stephan looked again at the knife that was buried deep in his chest. He knew he had mere seconds before he passed on. With fading vision, he watched his murderer move in closer, with eyes that showed only a hint of emotion. In his last few moments, that single emotion mocked Stephan. It was disappointment.
†††
Valgannon stood over the failed assassin’s body. A few people had walked past and noticed movement in the alley, but it was too dark to make out what was going on, and nobody wanted to wander curiously into a dark passageway. He knelt and pulled the dagger free from Stephan's chest. The blood grove cut into the blade allowed it to pull free easily, without suction. He wiped the blood off on Stephan’s shirt and used it to cut a strip of cloth away, then slid the knife back into the carrier inside his sleeve.
Pulling the dagger free that was impaled in his forearm would be painful as it pulled on his flesh, but luckily, it only glanced off the bone and didn't stick in. He gave the blade a quick jerk, freeing it, and quickly bandaged the wound with the strip of cloth he had cut from Stephan. He wiped the blade clean and slid it into another hidden carrier at his waist. He kept all the knives of those that he killed. They were his souvenirs.
He let out a deep sigh at how quickly the fight had ended. He hoped it would have lasted longer or that Stephan would have at least lived longer and put up a better fight. He thought for sure that this fight would have been a good test of his skills. But Stephan had easy to anticipate, such a disappointment.
Just then something occurred to him.
Stephan had been following a man down the road before the encounter. Valgannon wondered why he would be tracking someone away from the prison. Whatever the reason was, it must have been important and Valgannon wanted to know why.
He turned his black cloak inside out, showing the dark grey interior fabric. Many people wore grey wool cloaks towards the winter months and he would not stand out from the rest of the people walking the streets. He pulled the hood up to shadow his blood covered face and left the alley, moving quickly down the road in the direction that Stephan had been traveling.
While he was in the alley earlier, he had followed Stephan's eyes and caught a quick glimpse of the man that he had been following. The man had been larger than most and Valgannon knew that he would recognize him if he saw him again. He never let any small detail around him slip his mind. This was one situation where it might pay off.
He moved on down the street, passing the Inn where Stephan had been staying, and all the way past the housing district of town without seeing the man. He cursed himself for not starting out sooner to look for him. He had probably gone into an Inn before Valgannon could find him.
He shrugged his shoulders, deciding that there was nothing he could do about it, and headed back to the house he was staying at. His curiosity would nag at him for the rest of the night. He came to the cross-street that led to his hideout and as he rounded the corner, he almost ran right into the large man that Stephan had been following. He must have stopped in a tavern for a drink and was on his way again. Valgannon quickly covered his surprise, walked a little further, and turned as if to head down another street. As he turned, he looked out of the corner of his eye to see if the man was watching him, but he wasn’t, so Valgannon came about and started following him. He didn't have to stay to far back, thanks to the busy nighttime bustle of Kaheendra. Besides, this was his skill and he was a master at it. He could stay right on the man’s heals without him ever knowing it.
Valgannon could tell from the way the man dressed that he was a guard from the prison. This was becoming more intriguing already. The guard continued on to the outskirts of the housing district, until they came to a rundown complex that held many units for people to stay in. Judging by the look of the units, and their amount of degradation, they were for citizens of low income. He stayed back a bit as the guard ascended some steps leading to the third level of the building. He waited from below to see what room the guard entered. When the door closed he was in motion. With any luck the guard would be pulling his leggings off as he burst through the door, catching him by surprise and in a vulnerable position. When he got to the door he put his ear to it and listened. It sounded as though the guard was rustling around in the room, going through his things. It sounded urgent.
Valgannon wasted no more time and kicked the door, splintering it inward. He rushed in, taking in the entire room with his peripheral vision, while searching for the guard. The room was small and nearly empty except for a little cot on the side near the window.
The guard was crouched in the middle of the room. He wasn't taking off his leggings, but gathering up clothes and stuffing them in a large traveling sack. He jumped and scrambled back against the wall when Valgannon burst into the room.
Valgannon didn't think that the guard acted as most soldiers would. He didn't take up a defensive stance, but instead cowered in the corner of the room, looking completely terrorized by the sudden, violent intrusion. He was like a child.
Valgannon slowly stepped closer, appraising this strange man.
"Wha…what do you want?" The guard’s voice was a mixture of panic and terror.
Valgannon tried to make his voice sound less harsh, as though he were talking to a child. "I want to know who you are."
"Me…To'Shinbo," he pushed back against the wall and raised his hands in front of his face, as if preparing for a beating if what he said was the wrong answer.
Valgannon could make out bruising and cuts on his face. That could explain some of his fear. It was either that, or the dried blood that was encrusted on Valgannon’s face, making him look like a demon.
Valgannon smiled, this was going to be easier than he thought. "I know you work at the prison. What do you know of the Princess? What is it that you two are doing?"
With the mention of the Princess, the entire countenance of the guard changed. His eyes narrowed and he swelled up to his full height. That told Valgannon more than words could have.
"The Princess is To’Shinbo’s friend. Why you ask questions about her, do you wish to hurt her?" His voice was an angry growl now.
Valgannon was amused by the guard’s sudden change in temperament. The man must have strong feelings for the Princess.
"Harm her? Of course not," Valgannon tried to seem more casual and less imposing. "I only inquire about what it is you do for her. As you can see, I am not Kaheendran. I too am a friend of the princess."
To'Shinbo studied Valgannon, as if scrutinizing his features, not knowing if he should believe his claims. He probably wondered about the dried blood, but thought it better not to ask. He stayed rigid but finally answered the question. "To' Shinbo brought the Princess her food, every morning and night." A small smile spread onto his lips. "To'Shinbo would sneak her better food because what they give her was rotten. That is mean, To’Shinbo felt bad for her."
The way this man spoke in the third person puzzled Valgannon. "So that is all you do, bring her food?" he sat down in the corner, on the opposite end of the room from To' Shinbo, trying to appear even more passive.
"Well, To’Shinbo did bring her food, until they catch him sneaking better food. That's when they beat To’Shinbo and tell him to stay away from Princess. So To’Shinbo did," A sly smile ghosted his face, "until tonight."
Valgannon tilted his head in curiosity. "You went back to see her? Even after they beat you? That must have taken some kind of bravery."
To' Shinbo reacted just as Valgannon had hoped, sticking out his chest in pride. "That’s right, and Princess thought To' Shinbo brave too. She gave him mission." He was smiling from ear to ear now.
Valgannon knew that he had him. "Ah, a mission you say? Well, as an ally of the princess, I am required to help you in your mission. I will offer any assistance that I can. You need only ask it of me."
To' Shinbo seemed very happy about this news. Someone pledging servitude to him was almost more than he could comprehend.
Valgannon didn't give hi
m time to think it over. "But you will need to tell me of the plan so that I may know how to help. Please, tell me what the Princess wants us to do."
The guard seemed to only think about it for a moment before excitedly spilling everything about what the Princess had said. Valgannon sat and listened to this most valuable information. He couldn’t believe what had fallen into his lap. Not only would he be the one to kill the Princess, but he would also stop the messenger that would warn the southern tribes of the coming war. This would surely boost his status among the guild to new heights and demonstrate his worth to Thaluzont. Overthrowing Suntari was beginning to look easier every day. He realized that he had been staring off, lost in his thoughts and smiling, when To' Shinbo yelled at him.
"Are you listening? This is important. Why you smiling?"
Valgannon stood slowly and regarded To' Shinbo. "You have just told me all I need to know. Now I can kill the Princess and the defeat of Vorea will be that much easier." He turned to head out of the room as he finished.
To' Shinbo screamed in anger, not because he realized what he had just done, but because Valgannon had mentioned killing the Princess, his only friend.
Valgannon watched To’Shinbo rush in, just as he knew he would, pure rage pushing him forward. Valgannon dodged to the side just as To’Shinbo was within reach to strike out at him. To' Shinbo was shocked at how fast Valgannon moved. He couldn't stop his momentum, and crashed against the door.
“What...?” growled To’Shinbo, confused as to what just happened. He felt a deep pain in his chest, but ignored it and spun to face the Valgannon again.
Valgannon was slightly surprised with the large guard. He had taken a blade deep into his chest and then crashed against the wall, but remained standing. Even more shocking was when he turned to face Valgannon and looked as though he hadn't even felt the fatal wound. He smiled at the guard’s strength and gave a slight bow.
To' Shinbo must have saw the bow as an opening and charged toward Valgannon, lowing his head. Valgannon realized that To’Shinbo meant to tackle him and maybe try to crush him. The guard was certainly big enough to accomplish such a thing. At the last moment, as To’Shinbo was bringing his arms forward, Valgannon moved in a blur. He ducked under To'Shinbo's arms and slid around behind him.
This time To' Shinbo felt the lightning sting his back. He gasped for breath, but the more deeply he pulled for air, the more pain shot through his lungs. He came to a stop and fell to his knees. Not knowing why and against his will, his eyes slowly closed. The feeling was gone from his arms and legs. The sharp pain in his chest and lungs were fading. He felt himself hit the hard, cold floor of the room. The confusion of what had happened was finally pushed aside by a feeling of sorrow for his Princess. He was afraid for her, afraid for his only friend. He had failed her. The warm light was comforting as it came to take him.
Valgannon watched as the guards body gave up its last breath of life. He always enjoyed watching the final release. It gave him great pleasure. He knelt next to the body and pulled the knives free from the guard’s chest and back, wiping them clean on the dead man’s tunic.
"You died well To' Shinbo. It is not often that I must use more than one blade to kill a man."
He gave a short bow to the soulless corpse on the floor before standing. The sound of the large guard crashing into the wall might have drawn some suspicion so Valgannon wasted no time leaving the scene. He ran through the door and jumped from the balcony into the alley. Despite the three story drop, he landed soft, tucking into a roll and coming up on the far side of the alley against the wall and disappearing into the shadows.
His thoughts were now on the Princess. Her head would make a fine addition on the posts outside of the Guild Keep. Valgannon's name would be notorious. It would present the perfect time for him to replace Suntari as leader of the Guild of Assassins. He took his time and stayed to the shadows on his way back to the house where he slept. He didn't want to wash the blood from his face just yet. He enjoyed the feel of it.
He never slept in an Inn. That was the way of the others. His way was unorthodox and proved much safer, for no one could identify him. He watched the house for a time, just to make sure nothing was amiss. Being overly cautious was not a phrase that Valgannon believed in, when time permitted. Once he entered the house, he glanced at the two bodies that lay dead on the floor of the living room, the previous owners of the house.
He always used the home of an older couple because they were less likely to receive visitors and they normally weren't expected anywhere. He had watched this couple the first day just to make sure they didn't work, and simply gambled with the chance of a visiting relative.
That had happened to him once before, but he simply killed the relative as well. It made no difference to him. Murdering someone was something he would do without hesitation, and very little thought. He rarely stayed in one place long enough to worry about the consequences when the bodies turned up. It was all a game to him, and one that he played expertly.
He made his way back to the washroom and finally cleaned the blood from his face. When it was all gone, he undressed and sat cross-legged in the middle of one of the bedrooms that he had cleared all the furniture out of. He sat in silence, waiting for the familiar voice to visit him again. Sometimes he would sit all night, without sleep, and hear nothing. Other times the voice would speak to him throughout the entire day. He was beginning to feel empty without the comfort of it echoing in the back of his mind. He concentrated his thoughts, trying to listen more earnestly. Before long it came to him.
"Valgannon, you have done well this day. Dar-Lahnrael is pleased."
His eyes slid closed and a smile spread across his face.
Light Filters In
Lucian and the others entered the town of Sanjeera early in the morning, escorted by a small contingent of soldiers. The grass was covered with frost and you could see the breath escape from your mouth, signs of winter where all around. It was a crisp morning. Roosters had been crowing at the farm homes on the outskirts of Sanjeera, waking the farmers for the day of hard work ahead of them. Inside the city there were not many people up and about yet, except for the merchants and food vendors. They were rustling about, setting up their shops and placing out their wares. The smell of fresh baked bread and other pastries tantalized Lucian’s senses. A butcher was whistling a pretty tune as he hacked away at a hog he had just pulled off the hook, reminding Lucian of Leramy back home.
Sanjeera was a pleasant city. Lucian didn't think it as nice as Yavasura, but he was partial to his home. The two cities were very similar in many ways however. Unlike Yavasura, Sanjeera was not a large market city. They had gained some worth in the selling of well-bred horses to surrounding tribes and used that worth to bring up their economy. The Elder Council cared for the people first, distributing seeds and grain to the surrounding farms so that they would be able to grow large supplies of food which allowed them to sell it at low prices. They also invested in a large number of sheep long ago which they distributed to other families that had the land to breed and raise them. Now Sanjeera was known for their wool as well as their horses. Otherwise it was a simple city as far as advances went, but there were very few people that lived without food or shelter. Their leaders put great effort into taking care of the people and it showed forth in the way that they lived. There was an air of happiness throughout the city.
Lucian had been into Sanjeera many times, and had enjoyed each visit thoroughly. It was the kind of place that normally lifted his spirits. But he doubted that this time he could feel the same. Since his parents had been murdered, all this nonsense had come about concerning his heritage, and his own hands had been stained in blood, there had been little that gave him joy. He tried not to scowl as he passed some of the famed Sanjeeran Mounted Cavalry.
Apart from their economic prosperity, Sanjeera had a well-trained and sizeable army. Sanjeera being the third largest of the southern tribes, after Vorea and Kaheendra, was thick
ly populated in comparison to the other two. Although Sanjeera was a smaller city than Kaheendra, it actually had close to a thousand more people living within its gates. Not to mention those that lived within the small villages throughout the rest of their lands.
Lucian hoped that Sanjeera's close ties with Yavasura would aid in his quest for help. The Sanjeerans were unlike the Voreans and Kaheendrans as far as looks went, they appeared similar to Lucian and Eliath, much like the people of Culdora and those of the northern most tribes. Vorea and Kaheendra were the only two kingdoms that looked as they did, and he had heard that the peoples of Oharna were of a different look as well. Lucian had always wondered how the folk of other tribes could look so different. He thought about what the old man from Averule had told him. What he said about them coming later, after the Great War, made sense. The entire story seemed to make sense, but Lucian still had a difficult time believing it, especially the bit about ‘the Chosen One’.
The journey from the mountains to Sanjeera had been uneventful. Lucian and the others were thankful for that. It had taken them three days, longer than what they might have done if not for the violent thunderstorm that made them seek shelter for most of the morning and into the afternoon.
They were all glad to be in a friendly town. Lucian wondered if the Ganthian envoy was still here or if they had spoken their peace and left to return to Ganth. He hoped that they had, but he also hoped that Sanjeera had not agreed to help them.
Lucian and the others were brought to the estate where the Sanjeeran leader stayed. There was no palace. The Elders believed that the city would be better served by using the money it would cost to build such a grand place to buy more seed or livestock instead.
As they waited for the messenger to request an audience with the Sanjeeran leader, Lucian noticed that Eliath was staring at him. "What is it my friend? Why do you look at me that way?"
Revelations of Doom Page 21
