The Assassins: Forged In Blood

by Goran Zidar

  “You did this?” Tallow asked, shocked. It was the first time that Carabin had admitted complicity in anything.

  “Not directly, but I am sorry to say that they did work for me.”

  “Why?”

  Carabin smiled. It was one of those smiles that a father might give a son when he was about to dispel some long-held childhood myth.

  “How much do you know about the origins of the Family?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Tallow said, persisting with his fiction.

  A flicker of annoyance momentarily crossed Carabin’s face before his mask of composure returned. “The Family, as it has come to call itself, was once a family in blood as well as name.”

  Tallow listened as Carabin spoke, striving hard to keep his expression neutral lest he give his captor anything he might use as leverage. In truth it was becoming more and more difficult for Tallow to hold fast to the idea that Carabin was anything but what he claimed to be. Tallow knew it was only a matter of time before fact became horribly confused with fiction.

  “In the days when the Zeragoth Empire was being forged, the Emperor and his brother worked together to build their dominion. One brother worked in the open –and the other behind the scenes – to eliminate threats and to protect the fragile peace that the pair had created.”

  Tallow was intrigued by this, as he knew nothing about the origin of the Family. An assassin such as he had no use for such knowledge and only the priests of the Family, the Druaghi, were taught such things – though he was smart enough to know that he should take everything Carabin told him with a grain of salt.

  “In those days,” Carabin continued, “the Empire was a dangerous place. In order to maintain their fragile grip, the two brothers placed their own children in positions of power among the conquered territories. The Emperor placed his children in the open and his brother’s children supporting them from the shadows. It was a model that worked well. The people had a powerful ruler and the ruler had a powerful weapon to keep them safe.

  “In time the brother came to covet the love the people had for the Emperor; it wasn’t enough that the pair shared power equally. He wished to be known and worshipped as the Emperor was, and turned on him. The resulting conflict was terrible and threatened to tear the Empire apart. The Emperor managed to survive, but not before many of the royal line were killed.

  “The brother fled and went on to create the Family to which you belong. But that family was built on a foundation of lies and betrayal. It is but a pale shadow of what it once was and could be again. Put simply, the Empire wishes to bring their missing children home again.”

  Carabin paused, studying Tallow’s face closely.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Tallow asked.

  “Greythorne knew the truth of what I have just told you. He had pieced it together from his own experience and from what your Vesper shared with him. He was grateful that I was able to fill in the blanks before he died and insisted that I tell you everything to make sure you did not live in ignorance.” Carabin reached out and placed a fatherly hand on Tallow’s shoulder. “His dying wish was that I protect and guide you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “The Family you hold to so dear is even now sending people to find and kill you. You are a marked man, Tallow and I can only keep you safe if you help me.”

  “How can I help you?”

  “I need to know where the Family has hidden itself all these years. With the Marque de’Ahb out of the way the Emperor can bring his children home.”

  Tallow blinked. “I can’t help you; I don’t know how many times I can say it. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why won’t you please just let me go?”

  Carabin’s lips tightened. “Do not test me, boy. I have been tolerant of your lies for long enough and I am nearing the end of my patience. It seems my kindness and generosity is being taken advantage of. You will be confined to your room to give you a chance to think about where your loyalties lie.”

  The guards came then and escorted Tallow to his room as though he were a petulant child. That was the last time he had spoken to Carabin or seen anyone for days, until Tara returned a few hours ago. She visited him briefly and Tallow told her about what had happened. She appeared to sympathise and promised to try and talk Carabin into lifting the punishment. Yet another lie, yet another move in this elaborate game.

  Tallow couldn’t afford to wait any longer. He had to make his move now.

  With Tara back his hopes of being left alone were over. Tallow retrieved the items he had managed to scavenge – a few shards of glass, a long stick, and a length of wire – and readied himself.

  It was now or never.

  He placed an ear against the door and listened for a long period, straining to pick out even the slightest sound.

  He heard nothing.

  He examined the lock one last time before inserting the wire. After a little while his hands started to shake. It was clear that he was still a long way from being completely recovered. Tallow took a few deep breaths. He clenched and unclenched his fists to still the tremors and resumed his work. It was hard going but after a few failed attempts he was rewarded with the faint click of the lock being released.

  He savoured this small victory but did not let it go to his head. If he was this weakened by what should have been a routine lock-picking exercise, he was going to struggle from here on. The young assassin hoped that once he was out of the room and moving the thrill of escape would lend strength to his weakened body.

  Tallow extinguished his lantern, opened the door a crack, and peered outside. He saw no one and opened the door further. The corridor was deserted. Now came the dilemma. Tallow had only ever left his room to visit Carabin in the study, which was one floor above him. He didn’t have much knowledge regarding the layout of the building he was in, but he did know that both his room and Carabin’s study were in the same wing of the building. Judging from his view he knew that his room was at least one level above the ground, which meant that he had to go down.

  His decision made, Tallow stepped out of the room that had held him captive for the gods only knew how long and closed the door behind him. He knew that if anyone checked the door they would find it unlocked and his escape would be noticed, but he could not afford the time – or the energy – it would take him to re-lock it. Once at the stairs, he listened once more to be sure he was alone, then proceeded to descend the spiral stairs, one excruciatingly difficult step at a time.

  Just as he was about to step onto the ground floor he heard the sound of people. Two men with the appearance of guards were engaged in conversation as they walked towards him. His only escape was to stay on the stairs. Up would be too hard for him so he went down, his heart beating rapidly. The talking men reached the stairs behind him and Tallow held his breath, sure that his brief attempt at escape was about to come undone. To his relief, one of the men went upstairs, and the other retraced his steps back along the corridor.

  His heart hammering in his chest, the young assassin counted his blessings and kept moving down. He now knew that there were people moving about above him, so he had to try his luck below ground. People never flee into a dungeon, he thought, so perhaps he might buy himself some time down there. The staircase ended in a dimly lit, deserted storeroom. There was a door at the far end and Tallow walked as silently as he could towards it. He reached the door, and supporting himself against it, he placed an ear against the wood to listen for any sound in the next room. Just as he had begun to concentrate the door opened, causing Tallow to lose his balance and fall into the room beyond.

  The man who opened the door was clearly surprised and half-caught him as he fell forward. It did not take the man long to regain his poise, and he stood over Tallow with a sword drawn and pointed at the young assassin’s chest.

  Tallow offered no resistance, as he had none to give. His brief attempt at freedom had come to a rather pathetic end so he resigned himself to his f
ate. It took a little while for him to realise that the man did not immediately call out for assistance. Tallow could see that the swordsman appeared confused about what had happened so Tallow decided to take a gamble.

  “Please help me,” Tallow said weakly. “I’ve been held here against my will and I’m trying to escape.”

  “What did you say?” the man said, his confusion growing.

  “I’m trying to flee this prison. Will you help me?”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Tallow.”

  The man seemed to recognise the name, and Tallow was pierced by a sudden jolt of fear. Carabin had said that the Family had sent people to kill him; perhaps this was the first of those.

  “Were you being held here alone?” the man asked.

  Tallow nodded. “I am now, my companion is dead.”

  “What was his name?”

  Now it was Tallow who was confused. Surely a Family assassin would know the names of his targets. Was this just the latest of Carabin’s games? Tallow couldn’t be sure one way or the other. He had nothing to lose but he couldn’t keep the suspicion from his voice.

  “What difference does my dead companion’s name make?” Tallow asked.

  The man snorted. “Tell me his name and I’ll consider helping you, or don’t tell me and I kill you here and now. It’s up to you.”

  Tallow thought for a moment before answering.

  “His name was Greythorne.”

  The man nodded as if expecting that response and sheathed his sword.

  “My name is Atilen.” He extended his hand and helped Tallow to his feet. “Greythorne sent me to find you.”

  * * *

  Atilen couldn’t believe what he was doing.

  He had come to this gods forsaken place in the middle of nowhere with no more motivation than a verbal agreement with a man he barely knew and liked even less – even though he was pretty sure that man was dead. And now upon learning that his slate wiped clean, he found himself wanting to help that man’s apprentice – a kid he’d never met and who looked like the effort needed to scratch his arse was beyond him. What are you doing here, you idiot? Was the thought that clattered around inside his mind, and he still wasn’t sure why he wasn’t listening to it.

  “Do you know a way out from here?” Atilen asked.

  Tallow shook his head. “Not really, but I know that the ground floor of the house is up the stairs beyond that door.”

  Atilen thought for a moment, trying to recall what he knew of the layout of the camp. There was no way that this weakened young man would be able to climb up the shaft that Atilen had used to enter the mine, but there was an unknown number of enemies in the house above them. Their best bet would be to return to that disused part of the mine beyond the cave in and hole up in there until Tallow regained his strength. He had enough food and water to last the two of them a couple of weeks so they were unlikely to starve, but the odds of their survival were not good.

  Atilen shook his head; there was no sense in getting all negative about it. He was here, and as much as he hated to admit it he had come of his own free will. This poor kid had nothing to do with it. Atilen would take pride in getting out of here with the young man in tow.

  “Follow me,” Atilen said as he turned and went back into the tunnels. “I think I might have an idea.”

  Chapter 6: Darkness

  “The secret of freedom is courage.”

  - Thucydides

  High Summer – Year 2118 SA

  A mining camp in the disputed lands South West of Gyrlund

  It wasn’t easy and there were a number of close calls, but judging by the amount of food they had consumed Atilen figured they had been hidden beyond the rock fall for a week or so. They still had plenty of food left and they managed to find a source of fresh water in the form of an underground stream that flowed into a large pool in one of the tunnels. Despite discomfort and a building sense of claustrophobia, Tallow’s health and strength had improved dramatically. The young man believed that his captors had been drugging his food to keep him weak, and Atilen couldn’t help but agree based on the marked improvement he had witnessed. The feeble boy he met a week ago was a shadow of the tall young man who sat before him now.

  They were far from free, though, and they still had a number of obstacles between them and escape. The commotion immediately after the lad’s escape was noticed had died down and it had been a long time since Atilen had seen or heard anyone moving around on what he had come to think of as the light side of the fall. But they couldn’t stay down here indefinitely. With each day their supplies dwindled further. There was no immediate risk of starvation, but it was only a matter of time before there would be.

  Tallow was now strong enough to make the climb up the shaft, though he would require Atilen’s help. Once they were on the surface, Atilen was confident he could get them out of the camp. The difficulty lay in knowing when to make their move. It was impossible to know if it was night or day up there and if they entered the tunnels during daylight hours they would certainly be discovered. There was nothing to be gained by waiting any longer, Atilen thought. They might as well strike out now and see what was what. To stay would be to breed doubt – and self-doubt had brought down more than one thief.

  The pair worked quickly to remove the stones they used to block the path through the stone fall and crawled through the tiny space into the illuminated tunnel beyond. Atilen felt it was important that they make it appear as though the passage was still blocked, in case someone happened by and noticed the discrepancy before they were clear. Having completed their ruse, the two men made their way along the tunnel towards the main shaft. The lanterns in this tunnel had not been filled in a while. Some of them had burned out, which made the tunnel much darker than it had been when the two of them first came through.

  They paused at regular intervals and listened for any sign that there were other people nearby. Neither man could hear anything. It was deathly silent. Atilen sniffed the air and thought he could detect staleness in it that he hadn’t noticed before.

  Something wasn’t right.

  The duo kept on moving quietly through the tunnel, careful to check that the side passages were clear before crossing the openings, and keeping to the walls so their silhouettes couldn’t be seen by people ahead of them.

  “Shit!” Atilen said as he came upon a pile of stone and twisted metal in the centre of the tunnel.

  “What is it?” Tallow asked.

  “It was the way out of here.”

  “What do you mean?” Tallow asked, still not sure what he was looking at.

  “That,” Atilen said, pointing to the wreckage, “used to be an elevator to the surface and that” – pointing to the ceiling – “used to be a shaft to the surface. The bastards have caved it all in and trapped us down here.”

  Tallow brought his hands to his face and closed his eyes, willing the despair away. After everything he had been through it came to this. The thought of dying entombed in this mine was almost too much to handle and he had to resist the urge to burst into hysterical laughter.

  It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn’t.

  Tallow was close to breaking point. His thoughts were a mad jumble as his mind threatened to shatter into a thousand pieces. His breath quickened and the panic began to overtake him. He was just about to succumb to the stress when he felt a sharp pain on the side of his face.

  And then another.

  “Snap out of it, boy!” Atilen said, and raised his hand to slap him again.

  The pain gave him focus and he slowly regained control of himself.

  “That’s better,” Atilen said, eyeing the young man closely. “If they collapsed this shaft, I expect they’ll have done the same to any other shafts as well. We need to think.”

  Tallow nodded.

  “We don’t have time for panic; you can do that once we’re out of here – or dead. Though that may be a long ways off yet, since we have plenty of fo
od and water.”

  Tallow grimaced. The idea of starving to death didn’t appeal to him, but he’d heard that drowning wasn’t so bad. That was the answer; he would drown himself in the pool when the food ran out. He did enjoy the way the light glittered on the rocks under the clear water and figured that there must be worse ways to go.

  He thought about that for a moment longer.

  “Did you say there was a well in the centre of the camp above us?” Tallow asked.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Atilen said, suddenly wary that his companion’s mind may have become unhinged.

  Tallow grinned. “Follow me.”

  Tallow practically ran back to their bolthole and removed the rocks they had placed to conceal their entrance. There was no longer any need for stealth so the task was completed quickly. Once the path was clear he grabbed a lantern and led Atilen to the pool. He cast his eyes over the inky black surface until he found what he was looking for: a circle of light at the bottom of pool.

  “Where do you think that light comes from?” he asked, pointing.

  Atilen remained silent, rubbing his stubble-covered chin thoughtfully.

  “You may have found us a way out, boy,” he said, and clapped Tallow on the back. “Well done. Can you swim?”

  Tallow nodded. “Like a fish,” he said with a grin.

  The pair worked quickly, unsure what time it was and therefore how much longer the light would be visible. Tallow stripped to nothing. He tied a length of scavenged rope around his waist and handed the free end to Atilen. Without a word Tallow entered the ice-cold water and took a few moments to allow his body to acclimatise. He could feel the numbness start to set in so he took a deep breath and disappeared below the surface.

  Atilen waited above and allowed the rope to pass through his fingers as he held his own breath. He figured that it was a good way for him to know when Tallow might get into trouble and – unless he received the signal sooner – would pull him back. He could feel the pressure on his lungs increase. Just as he was about to gasp for breath Tallow’s head broke the surface, a wide smile surrounding his chattering teeth.