by JD Franx
“My family have always been simple farmers, Lissa; my father and grandfather, even his father before him. Why a beautiful, exotic woman like yourself would even look my way still confuses me. I don't want to lose you, but I have so little to offer you. A boring life filled with hard work and little gain.”
Tears of joy slowly welled up in her eyes as she laughed. “You cannot begin to imagine how good that boring life of little gain sounds to me. When we get home tonight, I will tell you whatever you would like to know about my life before I met you, I promise. Then you will understand why I will never leave you or this boring life. Some of it may be hard to hear, Cass, and some will be outright unbelievable, but I promise you, my love, I will never leave your side, ever.”
Cassel leaned forward, kissing her forehead.
“I believe you,” he exhaled.
“Then show me, Cass,” she replied softly, “let me show you that the only place I desire to be is here with you.”
Yrlissa melted into Cassel's arms. They spent the next hour making love beside the waterfall as their young daughter slept nearby. It was the kind of afternoon Yrlissa would give anything for to never end. When Cassandra woke from her nap, the family headed back, arriving at their small home just before dusk to find someone waiting for them.
Chapter Four
Lord Ghaul's chamberlain had explained little as to his arrival and Yrlissa's late night summons. Savis watched the heated discussion from the shadows of the small tool shed only ten feet away. Lord Ghaul's chamberlain had been ordered to ride out and bring Yrlissa back to the castle to work the night shift, and it hadn't gone over well with either Cassel or Yrlissa. The chamberlain had to threaten to fire Yrlissa before she had finally agreed to go. Savis knew it was just for show—Yrlissa smiled to herself while climbing into the carriage. The carriage left the small farm and returned to the city as Cassel took Cassie inside their home after watching it leave.
Now that Ghaul had finally turned his eyes to the young Elvehn assassin, Yrlissa would act on the contract that very night. She had to. Two years had passed while she had waited for this single opportunity. That meant he would have to act tonight as well. A smile curled the corner of his mouth as he realized the night he had ahead of him. The thought of what Yrlissa would return home to later filled Savis with near-orgasmic delight.
Savis wasn't just an assassin; disturbingly sadistic, he loved killing. Tormenting and torturing the soon-to-be corpses were the best perks of the job.
Just to be on the safe side, however, Savis waited a full two hours before entering the house through the window in little Cassandra's bedroom. Before climbing inside, he left a large leather bag sitting against the house below the window; the contents, which he had acquired earlier in the day from the Ynasu Undercity, wouldn't be needed until later. Savis dropped from the windowsill into the room without so much as a breath of sound. The child's room was unoccupied. Hesitating for a second, he found it odd that she wasn't there. It mattered little. Others had been paid to deal with the young girl.
Gliding through the room in only three strides, Savis gently opened the door a crack to see where his target would be. Cassel Moren was sitting at a small table at the side of the kitchen, drinking from a battered horn cup. Savis smiled as he recognized the carved silver insignia inlaid on the bone: the unique crossed hand axes of the pirate crew led by Captain Dominique Havarrow. Savis shook his head briefly, wondering how many coppers the stupid dirt farmer had paid for a cup that would get him killed if anybody associated with the pirates ever recognized it. It wouldn't matter anyway. The farmer was already as good as dead.
The moment Savis stepped from the girl's room, Cassel spoke, catching him completely by surprise.
“I don't know who you are, but I do wonder if you're competent enough to at least fight fair and not hide behind some kind of magic that makes you invisible.”
Releasing his hold on his family trait, Savis became visible almost instantaneously. “More than capable, farmer; you'll see soon enough. This won't be some drunken tavern brawl.”
Cassel stood and easily slid the table to the far corner. “Fair enough, assassin, but what interest do you have in a poor dirt farmer? Surely my hide is worth little to anyone?”
With his hands resting on his daggers, Savis made sure he kept his attention focused on his target; his instincts were screaming that something wasn't right. “You might be surprised to learn this, farmer, but you are the corpse of my contract.”
Cassel's calm smile made Savis' stomach turn to ice, he should have been begging for his life by now. “A corpse? Of course. The fabled Broken Blade assassins don't have targets, but corpses, because they never stop until you are dead.” Savis bowed slightly in acknowledgment, but said nothing as Cassel continued. “I figured as much. You've been watching my family for some time.”
Savis' senses vibrated with alarm as he realized that the situation might be beyond his control.
“How do you know that? How did you know I was in here? You can't have sensed me. You have no magic; I can feel that for myself.”
Cassel laughed as he took several steps forward. “I could hear you climb through my daughter's window; you made enough noise to wake the dead.”
Savis slowly shook his head as he stared in disbelief. “Impossible...”
Snorting with humour, Cassel stretched his back, his spine popped and crunched. Savis winced at the old arena fighting tactic designed in increase flexibility. “I spent my entire life on a creaking noisy ship with the fresh salt air in my face. Land is so quiet in comparison and you reek compared to the sea, assassin. Your kind stink worse than mine do after six months seaside. Now answer a question for me, will you? Why are you here?”
This time it was Savis' turn to chuckle, only pirates stayed out at sea that long. He gave the farmer credit, he was one hell of a bluffer. Even so, Savis realized he could regain control of the situation; he knew exactly what to say to steal the upper hand.
“Your wife, farmer, she shouldn't have become involved with you,” he said, pulling his entwined wooden blades from their sheaths. “Do you recognize these?”
Cassel's eyes widened as he recognized the blade handles identical to Yrlissa's. “Yes, but...”
Savis' smiled wider. “Ah, yes, the brain begins to put things together, I see. Maybe you're not a stupid dirt farmer after all. You might just be a smart dirt farmer.” Savis cackled at the look on Cassel's face as fear quickly filled the farmer's entire being. Yet there was something else there with the fear... a touch of controlled fury—and experience.
“Where did you get those?” Cass barked. “They belong to my wife.”
Shaking his head and waving the dagger in his right hand, Savis carried on laughing. “These blades do not belong to your wife, dirt farmer, though she does have a matching set, right down to the entwined wooden blades,” Savis said slowly as he slid the two wooden knives together, creating a dull rasp.
Disbelief blossomed on Cassel's face at the realization of what he'd just been told, Savis sneered, enjoying every second.
“I should have seen...” Cassel muttered, “How stupid...” As if shaking the disbelief from his mind, Cassel's eyes turned back to Savis. “Yrlissa is an assassin for the Broken Blade Guild. I can't believe she wouldn't tell me. It doesn't make any sense.”
Starting to tire of the banter, Savis' smile faded as he returned Cassel's stare. “It matters little what you believe, dirt farmer. You need only know that you die as her price for starting a family with you.”
Cassel nodded, his shoulders slumping. Savis smiled once more, positive the farmer had at last given up. Instead, Cassel removed his heavy long-coat and drew two axes from sheathes at the small of his back. Axes with two long metal hooks on the backs of their heads: the signature weapon of the Reavers, members of the pirate Dominique Havarrow's boarding crew—the most savage cut-throat pirates who crewed with the Suns of Blood pirate armada.
“You can try, assassin. Dom
inique Havarrow gave these axes to me personally, many years ago,” Cassel said smiling, as both of the cruel looking weapons spun through his palms too fast for Savis to follow. Savis narrowed his eyes as the heavily enchanted spinning axes blazed a bright red with swirls of white, almost searing his magical sight. He quickly rolled the information around his brain and smiled. Red—enhanced strength. White—increased speed. The smile disappeared, slowly replaced by a sneer as Dominique continued speaking. “You might find that my wife and I have a bit more in common than this dirt farm. I only wish I had known that before tonight. We would have already been long gone. The Suns would have helped us vanish completely. Even your guild couldn't have followed where the bow of my ship can sail. Now come, Assassin! We Suns of Blood believe that to live by the blade is to die by the blade. Let's see whose life will be claimed by the blade this night.”
“I should have known,” Savis groaned. “Cassel Moren, my ass. Your last name is Moranax. You used to be Dominique Havarrow's right hand. Ugh! I hate you gods-damned pirates almost as much as I hate witches. You wanted a fair fight, Reaver? Very well.” Savis lunged at Cassel the moment he finished speaking, but didn't fool the pirate for a minute. Both Savis' daggers thudded against the axes, deflected with ease.
“If that's the best you have, assassin, you might want to run instead of fight.” Cassel smirked. Savis merely set his feet and tried again, unleashing a frenzied flurry of stabs and slashes. Blue and orange sparks danced off the blades of Cassel's axes as the metal hilts of Savis' wooden daggers slid along their edges, but again he couldn't get past the pirate's enhanced speed and strength.
Savis' frowned, irritated. Cassel laughed. “No wonder the Broken Blades are a dying breed, assassin. You can't even kill a dirt farmer. The offer to run still stands. Maybe you should take it. You'll have a small head start before my wife hunts you down for this. I may be somewhat retired, but from what you said, she's not.”
The mention of Yrlissa stirred Savis' temper, his anger flared like a wizard's firebomb.
“Damn you, pirate! There's a reason assassins don't fight face to face,” Savis hissed. Knocking the lamp off of the stove to his right, he used the darkness to fade from view. Reappearing behind Cassel's back seconds later, Savis grabbed the pirate by the throat, breathing in his ear. “Because we don't have to...” He slammed his wooden dagger into the back of Cassel's neck at the base of his skull.
“Bastard...” Cassel's curse cut short as Savis' blade severed his spinal cord.
With his left hand wrapped around Cassel's throat, Savis held the pirate's limp body, while his right pushed the dagger hilt-deep. Savis whispered into the pirate's ear once more. “Assassins don't have a code of honor. We don't fight fair. We kill, any way we can; a contract is only fulfilled once there is a corpse on the floor. Only a fool would believe otherwise.” Savis jerked the dagger's handle upwards before tugging it back down. The corkscrew-like wooden blades snapped off inside Cassel's neck as Savis released his hold, tossing Cassel's crumpled body to the floor as the last breath of life fled the pirate's mouth.
“Now where in the lower hells is that damn brat?” Savis barked, just as he heard the little girl start to cry.
He found her in a cellar that Cassel had obviously built as a bolthole hideaway. He picked the little girl up and walked outside. Holding her hand, he trickled magic through her little fingers in order to keep her calm. Merethyl Bellas and several others were already waiting for him, including a guild assassin named Pok. Savis frowned. Pok was Merethyl's most loyal guild member. The creepy little man made Savis' skin crawl. With a reputation for sponsoring young female orphans into the guild, Savis strongly suspected Pok was working a very extended plan to gain more power or to take over from within the guild—with no guild status, it mattered little to Savis. Besides, Pok was Elvehn, and would long outlive him anyway.
Merethyl smirked at him, noticing his active magic. “I never would have imagined. Look at you, Savis. Calming a child with magic, like a breeding Elvehn matron.”
Pok sneered. “Always knew the invisible man would make a better milk-nurse than a killer, Merethyl.” Savis glared at Pok, finally blowing the sleazy little man a kiss.
“Shut up, Pok,” Merethyl barked. “Is what you actually came here to do, done, Savis?”
Eyeing the older Elvehn woman standing beside Merethyl, Savis wiped his forehead as he replied. “Screaming kids give me a headache, that's all. And yes, he's dead, but there may be some backlash from this.”
She frowned, motioning for him to give the child to the other woman. “What do you mean? What could have possibly gone wrong?”
“Yrlissa's husband was a member of the Suns of Blood. He was a Reaver. Not just any Reaver, either; he was Cassel Moranax. Oh, and the other package you asked for is at the side window against the house.”
“You killed a Reaver?” Pok asked, his voice riddled with disbelief. Savis ignored him.
Merethyl sighed as she frowned at Pok and at the information. Savis knew that such a mistake was going to cost the guild a ton of gold, if not a ton of blood. Bauro BlackSpawn and Dominique Havarrow weren't the forgiving type and he doubted if Cassel had been on permanent retirement—pirates retired as often as assassins. It happened, but rarely at such a young age. He had likely been as eager to report back to Havarrow as Yrlissa had been to complete Ghaul's contract. Shaking his head, Savis was glad that he wasn't an official guild member on days like this.
“I had already suspected as much, Savis. Thank you for the heads up anyway,” Merethyl said. “I'll take care of the Suns. Killing one of Dominique's Reavers... screws us... But... it isn't an easy thing to do.” Savis nodded at the backhanded compliment as she continued. “Head back to Corynth for now. I'll meet you behind Cora's in a couple days. And remember, Savis—father and child; you killed them both.”
* * * * *
Merethyl watched closely as Savis left, making sure he was far enough away so that he wouldn't hear where Yrlissa's daughter would end up. Once he was gone, she turned to the woman who'd taken the baby. “Tariel, you and Emek take the child to Cairnwood and find a woman by the name of Crissa Daniels. Pok will travel with you. Emek knows the smugglers’ routes that will help you avoid the patrols from cities like Samitor and Dasal. When you arrive, tell her the child is her brother's. That her brother and sister-in-law are dead, and that this child now belongs to her and her husband. Then return to Corynth and forget this transaction ever occurred; it's why we used your guild and not one of Old Man Talo's. Secrecy is your reputation, and it is a must in this situation. You may inform your guild master that we will honor this deal by using our influence to broker an agreement with the Talo Family that will allow you to continue operating independently throughout all Cethosian borders.”
The smuggler and the thief both nodded as Merethyl pulled one of her wooden daggers from its sheath and snapped the twisting blades off at the hilt. The magical blades would grow back in an hour or less. She handed the broken wooden blade to the thief. “Give these blades to Crissa and tell her that her brother and his wife died at the hands of the Broken Blades Guild. Make it very clear to her that the little one is never to know anything about what happened—about who her parents were. If she agrees, give her the child and promise her she will never see or hear from us again. If she refuses, Pok has orders to kill her, her husband and any other children present. You will then bring the child to the Corynth orphanage,” Merethyl explained. Either way, she would know where Yrlissa's daughter would be. Keeping an eye on her would be paramount. Tariel and Emek nodded once more before they mounted their horses and left with Cassandra. Pok bowed and followed after them.
Watching only long enough to be sure they were gone, Merethyl walked around the side of the small house and retrieved Savis' package. Carrying it back into the house with her, she set it on the table and bent over the charred remains of Yrlissa's husband.
“Stupid pirate, what in the nine hells of Perdition were you doing he
re? Your stinking carcass is going to cost me a dozen bags of gold,” she muttered, standing and shaking her head. Returning to the leather storage bag, Merethyl opened it and removed the body of a deceased child, roughly a year and a half old, that Savis had found in the Ynasu Undercity. Ynasu wasn't Corynth; children from the Undercity died every day. Starvation, murder, even abandonment. It was merely a morbid part of Ynasu life, but it was exactly what they needed to ensure that Yrlissa believed all her family were dead.
Merethyl placed the small body in the little girl's bed and cast dozens of elemental fire webs around it and attached dozens more to the walls and floor of the bedroom. Pulling strings of fire from the lightly glowing coals in the kitchen's fireplace, she anchored them throughout the small farmhouse. It was time consuming, but would turn the house and bodies to ash in less than an hour after the fire lit. With the webbing in place, Merethyl turned to the door as something crunched under her foot. Bending down she picked up two pieces of alchemy glass, a torn label held them together.
“Purge,” she muttered, as she read the label. “Strange...” She tossed the glass aside and walked from the house. She needed to hurry, almost an hour had passed while she'd set her magic about the small farmhouse. Turning back towards it, Merethyl stood about twenty feet away from the front door. Concentrating with her eyes closed, she tried to gather enough heat from the surrounding air to ignite the webs inside the house, a difficult thing to do in the cool, humid, late evening air.
“Would you like a hand, Merethyl?” Voranna Talavihr asked as she approached from behind. Merethyl's heart jumped in her chest—if the witches checked the farmhouse...
A ball of swirling red and orange fire formed in Voranna's palm as she whispered her spell. “Kalla Bal.”
