Assassin's Quest

by Jon Kiln

  Rothar had no inkling as to why Duchess Miranda, who had the world, would invoke such horrors on the kingdom, but he intended to find out.

  Peregrin had continued chewing leaves and treating Rothar’s injury. He could sit nearly straight up now, and it no longer labored him to breathe. As the morning sun began to paint the horizon a pale pink at their backs, the two riders emerged out of the Banewood, haggard and weary.

  Rothar was vaguely aware that he had slept only a few hours in the last several days, but he knew that rest was not an option. Sleep would not come even if he wanted it to. Esme’s face appeared in front of his eyes every time they closed. Any moment of stillness brought the sound of children’s laughter from somewhere deep inside his mind. He was a servant of the King, and he would protect the King’s subjects, even if that meant dismantling Heldar’s right hand man to get to the bottom of this mess.

  Thinking back to the small cells in Farrow Sleeth’s secret basement, with the tiny manacles and pictures scratched into the walls, Rothar steeled his reserve and shook off any trace of fatigue that slowed him. He glanced over at Peregrin. The man showed no signs of fading. Good old faithful Peregrin. Rothar was thankful that they had found each other the day before. It occurred to him that if Peregrin’s falcon had not found him at the foot of the mountains, bleeding and dying, then no one may ever have learned of Duchess Miranda’s sinister doings.

  Looking up, Rothar saw the faithful falcon soaring high overhead. His eyes moved from the raptor and across the sky to the west, where the great wall meets the sheer rock of the Yawning Cliffs. From here, he could see Miranda’s manor, high and haughty in the morning sunlight. The darkened windows seemed to be glaring at him, taunting… daring him.

  Chapter 22

  Rothar and Peregrin rode directly to the castle stables and ordered the stable boys to feed and water the horses. They would not be announcing their arrival to any guard or squire, not even Sabine. Rothar did not wish to give Feril any chance to slip away.

  As they left the stables and hurried down the path to the castle’s rear gate. They saw the gate open and heard the sound of rushing hooves from within. An instant later, a team of dark horses, driven by a slouched and hooded man came into view, pulling the armored black carriage that Rothar had seen twice in the last three days.

  He stopped on the path and turned to Peregrin.

  “Dear friend, you have saved my life and traveled with me a great distance these past few days. But I need to ask you for something more.”

  Peregrin did not hesitate. “I am at your disposal, Rothar.”

  “I must ask you to follow that carriage. Find out where it is going and return to me. Do not be seen,” Rothar said. “Take a fresh horse. Tell the stable boys that I ordered it.”

  “I will do exactly as you ask,” Peregrin replied. “But what was that carriage to do with anything?”

  Rothar was already walking briskly towards the castle, and he called back over his shoulder, “I believe it has been with me every step of the way.”

  ***

  Rothar brushed past the guards at the castle gate and they hurried after him. It reminded him of how Bakal’s inept sentries had clamored into the great tent behind him, and he may have chuckled if there were any humor left in him. He ignored their requests for him to halt, for they would not and could not give him formal orders. They did not know what he did for the King, but they knew that he did whatever he pleased within Castle Staghorn. Their pleas were merely suggestions.

  Rothar threw open the doors to the throne room and found Heldar and Queen Amelia, listening to the qualms of some merchants he did not recognize. Heldar was surprised by Rothar’s noisy entry, but he dismissed the merchants immediately, telling them that more pressing matters had arisen. The merchants bowed to the King and Queen before grumbling their way out of the throne room.

  “Friend, what have you found?” Heldar asked, once the three of them were alone.

  Rothar forewent the bow. Time did not permit formalities.

  “Where is Feril?” he asked, his voice taught with righteous anger.

  “Feril? He had a matter to attend to, but he should be joining us shortly. What do you need of Feril? I thought you disliked him,” the King asked.

  “More every day,” answered Rothar. “Go about your business, I will wait for Feril. Do not send for him.”

  King Heldar looked confused and exasperated. “You have been away for days, and you return looking worse than when you left. Please tell me what is happening!”

  Queen Amelia spoke up. “Perhaps you can wait for Feril. It seems your faithful servant may need the Duke’s assistance in getting to the bottom of this?” She stated it as a question, and she directed it at Rothar with a hopeful tone.

  Rothar had always sensed that the Queen disliked Feril nearly as much as he did, and the King barely tolerated him. Neither would hold it against him if he killed the Duke right here in the throne room, not once he told them what the bastard was hiding. But killing Feril too soon would be a mistake. Right now, the slimy Duke was most valuable alive. Rothar needed Feril to tell him why his wife was having children abducted, where they were taken… and if they were alive.

  The King sighed and nodded in approval. Rothar moved to a far and darkened corner of the room to wait for Feril’s arrival. Heldar began holding court again, starting with the merchants he had just sent out upon Rothar’s arrival.

  The matter of the merchants was settled, and other subjects from around the kingdom were admitted, one by one, to pay tribute or to air grievances to the King and Queen.

  An hour passed, or perhaps it was only minutes. For Rothar, time was a commodity that he could not spare to waste. Peregrin was off chasing the mysterious carriage. Esme was somewhere not to be found. And an evil Duchess sat high on her cliff and orchestrated atrocities that confounded the imagination of decent people throughout the kingdom.

  Rothar was about to give up and go searching the castle for Feril, one room at a time, when suddenly the doors to the throne room burst open just as unceremoniously as when Rothar had thrown them open himself.

  Four armed guards grunted and struggled, dragging a bloodied man down the luxurious carpet towards the throne. Drops of dark blood dripped glisteningly on the walkway.

  “He knows!” screamed the bleeding man. Rothar recognized the voice immediately. It was Harwin.

  King Heldar realized who it was as well and stood up in front of the throne.

  “What is the meaning of this?!” Heldar bellowed. “This man is a guest of the crown! I should have you horse whipped for disobeying a clear order that he is to be treated well! Speak up for yourselves. Why is he injured?”

  Rothar rushed to his friends side, shoving two of the castle guards away. Harwin saw him and his eyes went wide with a mixture of excitement and madness.

  “He knows,” Harwin said again, in a whisper this time.

  “Your majesty,” one of the guards said with a bow, trying to catch his breath after the struggle with the burly blacksmith. “We had to apprehend him. He killed Duke Feril.”

  ***

  Rothar’s heart sank. A part of him wanted to be angry with his friend, he wanted to shake him, tell him that he had just killed the best and quickest means to finding Esme.

  “Is this true?” King Heldar asked Harwin.

  Breathless and sweating as he bled on the floor, Harwin only nodded.

  “And why did you kill him?” asked the King, seemingly more concerned about the answer than the fact that his right hand man had just been murdered.

  “I was in my room. He must not have known anyone was about. I overheard him talking to someone in the corridor,” Harwin answered, voice shaking. “I couldn't see who it was, and they never spoke so I could hear them, but Feril, the bastard, he was talking about the children.”

  Rothar grasped Harwin by the shoulders. One of the guards retained his grip on the blacksmith and Rothar shoved him off. The guard began to protest, but
King Heldar raised a hand and the guard backed away.

  “What did he say about the children, Harwin?” Rothar asked.

  Harwin was beginning to collect himself and he stood up straight, wiping blood and sweat from his broad face.

  “I could only hear what he was saying, but it sounded like there was an argument,” Harwin said. “He said ‘The children are becoming dangerous, we have taken too many,’ then there was silence. After a time, Feril said, ‘Then have the devils kill the one’s we have.’”

  Harwin took a deep breath, but it was not a calming breath. There seemed to be a fire growing inside the man. It was as if his heart was his blacksmith’s furnace, and someone was pumping the bellows, filling him with flames of righteous anger.

  King Heldar and Queen Amelia had both come down from their thrones and were standing with Harwin and Rothar. Queen Amelia put her hand on Harwin’s arm. Rothar could see the pain of sympathy in her eyes as she looked at him.

  “What happened then, Harwin?” asked the Queen.

  “I heard a door slam and then someone coming by my room,” said Harwin. “I stepped out into the hall and Duke Feril nearly ran straight into me. I grabbed him by the neck and told him that if he did not tell me where my daughter was, I would kill him…” Harwin trailed off.

  Silence hung heavy in the great throne room. Everyone knew that Feril had not appeased Harwin, or he would possibly be alive now.

  Harwin finally continued. “He told me that it would be best for me if I started mourning, not only for my daughter, but for everything I had ever known and loved. He said the hour was late, and there was no time left for me.”

  Harwin’s eyes had gone cold, and he stared into the distance as though he were still looking into the face of Duke Feril.

  “There was no time left for him,” he said.

  The King and Queen were visibly shaken. Rothar bristled with rage, but something that Harwin had said sparked hope in his mind.

  “You said that Feril said they would need to kill the children they had already taken,” he said to Harwin with urgency in his voice. “That means they are still alive, including your Esme.”

  “Yes,” Harwin replied, “but he never told me where they were keeping them.”

  “I’m certain the person he was quarreling with was the Duchess. I have a man following what I’m now certain is Duchess Miranda’s carriage. If we leave now we may be able to track him.”

  Rothar was thinking of the falcon. Peregrin had left some time ago, trailing the black carriage, but the falcon always flew high above Peregrin when he rode. If the carriage was toiling up the northern passage up the Yawning Cliffs, like Rothar expected it would be, then he should be able to spy the raptor and catch up to Peregrin, and the carriage, somewhere atop the cliffs.

  King Heldar spoke for the first time in minutes. “What a fool am I? I never trusted that snake, and yet I kept him at my side so I could ply him for information. All this time he has been desecrating my kingdom with his evil woman.” Heldar turned to Rothar. “Father would have seen this coming, Rothar, he could see the good or the evil in a man from a mile off.”

  “You are wasting time with regret, Heldar,” Rothar replied. “Assemble as many of your finest knights as you can spare and send them to Baelzpass. Tell them to follow the falcon.”

  Chapter 23

  Rothar and Harwin left Castle Staghorn at a sprint and ran straight to the stables. Commandeering their horses, Rothar led the way off the castle grounds at a gallop. Heading north through the busy streets, the riders sent peddlers and street performers reeling and diving to avoid being trampled.

  Rothar’s eyes were on the sky above the western cliffs, searching for the tiny black dot that he hoped would be Peregrin’s falcon. The narrow passage was around the northern edge of the cliffs. Travelers used a narrow strip of beach to gain access to the steep road that led to Twistle and Baelzpass. The passage would not be visible to Rothar from his vantage point in the city, but if the carriage and Peregrin were nearing the top of the cliffs, he may be able to see the bird.

  Suddenly, the sound of a horn pierced the air. Rothar halted his horse and wheeled around. The alarm was coming from the south wall. Rothar did not have to wonder long what the trouble was, for from all the way across the city he could see massive heads looming above the great wall. Long fingers, as thick as tree limbs, curled over the top edges of the wall as the ogres climbed into the city. Battalions of archers were already launching clouds of arrows at the beasts. The arrows stuck out of the ogres’ flesh like the quills of a porcupine, but the giants did not even seem to notice.

  Harwin pulled up next to Rothar and stared back at the scene in awe.

  “What in the devil’s name?” said Harwin.

  Rothar shook his head. “It’s a diversion. We have to leave it to the King’s guard. Come.”

  They kicked at their horses and bolted off again towards the north shore. As they came into view of where the Amethyst Sea disappeared behind the jagged edge of the Yawning Cliffs, Rothar was incensed to see another half dozen ogres, wading out of the sea, upturning boats and spitting torrents of seawater on the beach.

  They were trapped in the King’s City.

  ***

  Harwin followed Rothar’s lead, and the two riders galloped their horses towards a guard tower on the shore of the sea. One of the ogres was closing fast on the tower, seeming intent to knock it down. Rothar didn't care if he did, as the tower itself was not important.

  The King’s guard had carefully planted Quietus at the base of every guard tower, both along the wall and on the seashore, to prevent enemies from being able to climb in.

  The ogre, with strides as long as a boy can throw a stone, reached the tower first. With a mighty blow, the monster splintered the top of the wooden tower like so much kindling. Rothar and Harwin ducked to avoid the sharp shards of wood raining down from above. Assuming that it had disabled the watchtower completely, the ogre turned it’s focus on the two riders.

  “Distract him!” Rothar shouted to Harwin.

  Nearly any man, under ordinary circumstances, would balk at the prospect of distracting a forty-foot tall ogre. Harwin, however, had been pushed beyond the point of fear or hesitation, and rode directly at the ogre, screaming curses that had never been contrived before in the whole of the kingdom.

  Rothar rode to the base of the watchtower where the Quietus grew. He plunged every arrow that remained in his quiver into the deadly foliage. Once he was done, he followed in Harwin’s suicidal footsteps and charged his steed headlong at the ogre.

  The giant was still staring at Harwin with a combination of wonderment and amusement, as the blacksmith was steering his horse round and round the ogre’s feet, screaming all the while. Rothar notched one of the poison arrows in his bow and whistled loudly. The ogre looked up, and Rothar let fly.

  It was a curious thing to see. A soaking wet behemoth, prickling with the arrows of all the King’s men, taking one more arrow to the eye and dropping dead within seconds. Harwin had to maneuver his horse expertly to avoid being crushed under the falling giant.

  Rothar spurred his steed on down the beach, letting the reins fall and using both hands to notch and release arrows at the ogres on the shore. The second one fell, then the third and fourth. The King’s soldiers stopped fighting and watched in disbelief. By the time Rothar reached the far end of the beach, even the last ogre was watching the slaughter that had befallen his friends, and all at the hands of a single man on horseback, streaking down the beach with only one arrow left.

  One arrow to fell the last of the ogres on the beach.

  With the last giant down, Rothar turned his horse around and streaked back towards the cliffs. He shouted to the befuddled soldiers to tell the others to poison their arrows with Quietus. He only hoped that they would reach the other end of the city before the ogres reached the castle.

  Rothar returned to where he had slain the first beast to find Harwin waiting anxiously for
him. The two rode out onto the narrow stretch of beach that led to the pass. Rothar gazed up into the heavens. It was too late to turn back, and if this was not the way that the carriage had gone, then all may be lost.

  Then, almost imperceptibly, he saw a flicker of black on the edge of a cloud high above. The apparition disappeared for a moment, and then he saw it again. The falcon was circling the top edge of the cliff, barely visible between the clouds and the rock.

  Harwin spoke, “Are we finding my Esme?”

  Rothar looked at the heartbroken man. Harwin was in far better condition than he had been when Rothar had forced him to drug himself and then left him at Castle Staghorn, but the man seemed to have aged many years over the last few days. Worry and agony had taken the light out of his eyes and made his voice sound hallow and forlorn.

  “We are, Harwin, I promise you that,” Rothar answered.

  With that, the two men steered their horses onto the steep path that led through the clouds to the top of the Yawning Cliffs, leaving behind them a city beset by monsters.

  Chapter 24

  The horses clamored and slipped on the loose stones of the narrow passage. The cliff was steep and the wind howled across the face of the rock, louder and colder as the riders ascended. Rothar was vaguely pleased to hear the sounds of battle moving across the city beneath them. His ears told them that his orders had reached the soldiers at the southern front. He heard the bellowing screams of ogres mixed with the triumphant shouts of soldiers as the poisoned arrows of the King’s men slew the banished giants.

  It was fortunate that the ogres had attacked the King’s City alone, rather than aided by an army of Southland mercenaries. Rothar shuddered to think of the bloody slaughter that would have resulted from a full scale Southland attack on the City. As relieved as he was that the devils had not been a part of the raid, it did make him more certain that he would soon be finding the full compliment of the Southland forces, and the prospect did not please him.