Death and Honor: Book 2 of 2

by James Wisher

  The fat thief must have felt the eyes of death on him because he turned and started for the nearest door. He managed two steps before Xander leapt on him from behind and drove his sword clean through him, pinning him to the floor like a bug. Hakim howled in pain. Xander leaned in and whispered, “You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye.”

  “No.” The word came out so weak Xander almost missed it.

  Xander reached into his pocket and drew the curved knife he’d taken from Hakim’s friend the first time they met. He hacked into the fat man’s neck. Once, twice, on the third strike Hakim’s head rolled free. Xander’s hands dripped blood and he cleaned them along with his knife and sword on Hakim’s back. At last he’d avenged Sophia. “Now I’m ready.”

  Xander walked through the stunned thieves and joined the courier who stood at the edge of the platform. Without a word the courier led the way through the hall and outside where a pair of black geldings waited, saddled and ready to go. They mounted up and rode out of the city heading south.

  They rode the rest of the day and when darkness fell the courier led them off the road a few hundred yards until they reached a level spot clear of the scrub that grew all along the road. Once they dismounted and looked after the horses the courier took a fist sized sphere out of his saddle bag along with a metal rod. He set the sphere on a dirt path and struck it with the rod. The sphere burst into flame. The courier replaced the rod and returned with a satchel and water skin.

  Xander helped himself to a couple strips of dried meat from the satchel. “Sorry about what happened in the dining hall. I couldn’t leave while he still drew breath.”

  “Don’t apologize. I found your display heartening. It showed a level of mercilessness you need for this job. All our prospects say they have it, but when it comes down to it most don’t. I didn’t, that’s why I’m a courier rather than a killer.”

  “The way I see it.” Xander swallowed a piece of meat. “I’m just speeding along the natural process. Everyone dies.”

  The courier glanced at him. “You consider cutting a man’s head off a natural death?”

  “Sure if you cut someone’s head off it’s only natural they die.”

  The courier laughed. “Get some sleep. We ride at first light.”

  * * *

  The two men road for three days before reaching a small port town whose name Xander didn’t know and his guide didn’t offer. The courier offered little conversation or information. Hell he hadn’t told Xander his name. As they rode through the town the people went out of their way to avoid them, some even crossing the street to get further away. Xander smiled at the reaction, the two of them must have made a grim pair.

  They reached the docks and the courier led them to a ship with two masts and black sails. What struck Xander was where another ship might have a mermaid figurehead; this ship sported a grim reaper.

  Xander dismounted. “Nice ship.”

  The courier smiled. “It discourages pirates.”

  They left the horses on the dock and boarded the ship. A man with a great, barrel chest Xander assumed to be the captain met them at the top of the gang plank. The courier shook hands with the captain. “Your cabin is ready and we can sail with the tide.”

  The courier nodded and walked across the deck toward a set of stairs leading down. Xander paused a moment to offer the captain his hand which the captain ignored. He shrugged and hurried after his guide. “Not very friendly.”

  “No, captain Corin is many things, but friendly isn’t among them.” They went below deck and the courier opened the first door they came to. Inside they found a nice sized cabin with two hammocks and a dresser bolted to the floor.

  “Wow. I’d always been told sea travel was cramped and uncomfortable. This isn’t bad at all.”

  “If this were a standard merchant ship you’d be right about the lack of space, but this ship’s sole purpose is to transport guild members wherever they need to go. Space devoted to cargo is instead given over to large cabins.”

  “So how far are we going?”

  The courier stretched out in one of the hammocks. “The trip should take about three weeks, depending on the wind. You may as well make yourself comfortable. There isn’t much to do aboard ship.”

  * * *

  Two days out of port and Xander started going crazy. He paced in the cabin he shared with his guide. They’d been traveling for almost a week and the man still hadn’t offered Xander his name. He couldn’t stand it anymore. “I’m going up on deck.”

  “Make sure you stay out of the way. Sailors can get rough.”

  Eager now, Xander left the cabin and scampered up on deck. The fresh sea air smelled wonderful and the spray cooled his face. Sailors swore and hauled on ropes to what purpose Xander had no clue. He found an empty place in the front out of everyone’s way where he could exercise. Xander set his sword to one side and stretched, he had no trouble compensating for the rolling of the ship. He worked his upper body then his legs. A group of sailors had gathered to watch and Xander wondered how long he’d have to wait for the inevitable fool.

  Less than a minute passed. Xander lowered eased down into a split. One of the sailors approached, a great brute of a man cover in tattoos. Xander laid his hands on the deck and pressed up into a handstand then rolled to his feet. “Good morning.” He offered a polite smile.

  “Boy, why are we wasting our time taking a runt like you to the mountain? I ought to drown you now and save the master’s a lot of time.”

  “You’re welcome to try.” Xander smile never wavered. “Nothing like pounding a dumb sailor to liven up a boring trip.”

  Xander slipped a punch so badly telegraphed they must have seen it coming back on shore. “Too slow.”

  The furious sailor launched a barrage of punches, any of which would have put Xander down for a long time. Unfortunately for the big sailor none of his blows came close to landing. It was like an elephant trying to catch a mongoose. Xander spun, ducked, and dodged before slipping behind his opponent and slapping him across the back of the head. “Come on gruesome, try to keep up.”

  The other sailors had gathered and they cheered their champion on. The sailor spun with a backhand that Xander ducked under. His opponent wheezed like a leaky bellows and Xander got bored again. “I think you should give up now.”

  “Getting tired, boy?” The sailor said between wheezing breaths.

  “No, bored. If you don’t surrender I’ll have to end this contest and I promise it will be more pleasant for you if give up now.”

  “The day I give up to a whelp like you is the day I leave this ship and take up farming.”

  The other sailors cheered this pronouncement and his opponent launched a straight right at Xander’s head. He let the punch come close enough that the hair on the sailor’s arm brushed his cheek. Xander spun and in one motion drew the curved knife from his pocket sheath. He came up behind the sailor and laid the blade against his throat. The man’s pulse thumbed against the edge of his blade.

  “Sure you don’t want to give up?” Xander whispered in his ear.

  The crowd grew silent, waiting to hear their champion’s answer. After the silence stretched to an uncomfortable length the sailor said, “I surrender.”

  “Wise decision.” Xander sheathed his knife and collected his sword. “If anybody else wants to dance I’ll be back to exercise again tomorrow.”

  The courier waited for him at the top of the steps. “Quite a show.”

  “I was bored. That’s never been a good thing for me. Besides if I’m going to be of any use when we arrive I need to stay in shape.”

  “Did you have to embarrass him that bad? Sailors have a lot of pride.”

  “He didn’t seem concerned about embarrassing me.” Xander brushed past his guide and went down to their room.

  Xander exercised in peace for the rest of the trip. Three weeks and two days after they set sail they docked at a large city. Xander went down the boarding ramp wi
th his guide. They found a young man holding the reins of two black horses that could have the twins of the two they rode from Arbadha.

  “Where to now?” Xander asked.

  The courier pointed to the highest mountain in a nearby range. “Assassin Mountain.”

  CHAPTER 6

  They rode through the bustling city at a quick trot so that Xander didn’t have a chance to get a feel for the place. Since they were bound for the mountain it didn’t matter. Soon they rode out the massive stone gate and turned toward the mountains. Xander put the city out of his mind; maybe he’d have time to explore it later. He followed his guide through a sparse, scrub plain and up into the foothills. The courier led him up a well worn horse trail that led ever higher into the mountains.

  Before the mountains went near vertical they came to a wide plateau. A large fenced in area served as a corral for a dozen black horses that look like first cousins to the ones they rode. Next to the corral sat a small cabin with smoke coming out its chimney. Hot as it was Xander failed to imagine who would want more heat. Whoever it was must have had his eye out for them as the moment they approached the door opened and a gray bearded man, seventy years old if he was a day, hobbled out to take the reins of their horses. The courier nodded to the old man and they dismounted.

  The courier walked over to a sheer granite face and slammed his fist against the stone twice. A hidden door swung open. Xander leapt back and reached for his sword. The door blended so well he hadn’t spotted a seam. Behind the door stood a grim, broad shouldered man with a four foot long sword strapped to his back, he nodded to the courier and ignored Xander. The guard stepped aside and they entered the tunnel.

  The tunnel wasn’t like any tunnel Xander had ever heard of. Rich, golden wood covered the walls and floor. It resembled a hall in a noble’s estate more than a mountain tunnel. As they walked the hall sloped up a little. Every twenty feet a glowstone lantern provided a bright, cheerful glow. For the home of the most feared assassins in the world the place wasn’t intimidating. Xander wondered who decorated the place.

  At the end of the hall they arrived at another door, a simple wood paneled one that would have been at home in any house in the world, except this one. The courier knocked and a guard that could have been cousins with the first one opened up. Courier and guard exchanged nods and they continued on their way. Behind the door they came to a foyer with a marble topped desk and half a dozen soft chairs. A plain woman of middle years manned the desk. She wore the bored expression of receptionists the world over.

  The courier took pity on his ignorance. “When someone wants to hire us they wait here for a chance to talk.”

  Xander’s guide waved to the woman behind the desk and led him out one of the two doors leading deeper into the mountain. “So where are we going?”

  “The grand hall. Other hopefuls have gathered to meet with the mistress of candidates. Now that you’re here this year’s batch of twelve candidates is complete. A word of warning; the mistress can get a little harsh so mind your temper?”

  “Thanks for the warning. How much further?”

  They stopped before a black wood door. “Right through there. Good luck.”

  The courier pushed the door open and they stepped into a huge room with a high domed ceiling. A thin, gray carpet covered the floor. Eleven people, nine men and two women, stood in a circle around a scowling woman dress all in black, the mistress of candidates he suspected.

  His guide went to speak with the mistress while Xander took the chance to study his fellow candidates. The first thing that struck him was the range of ages, he’d assumed most of them would be young, but they ran the gamut from his age to one gray bearded man that looked to be his father’s age if he’d lived. They all had one thing in common; a hardness in the eye. They’d seen too much of the world and not much of it good. Xander knew those eyes, they stared back at in the mirror every morning.

  The courier finished his conversation and left by the same door. He didn’t spare Xander a second look.

  “You. Come here.” The mistress called him over.

  Xander stepped into the circle and bowed. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “It’s about time you got here. We’ve been awaiting your arrival for a week. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Xander had no idea what the woman expected him to say. “I didn’t know I was holding you up.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” Xander kept his tone polite but his annoyance grew by the word.

  “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

  Xander’s eyes narrowed, but he held his temper. “A week ago I was on a ship in the middle of the sea. I couldn’t get here any faster than I did and I don’t intend to apologize.”

  The mistress’s face got red and she sputtered something he couldn’t make out. When she got under control she pointed to a spot between a man in his twenties wearing a crimson waist cape and a plumed hat and the younger of the two women. “Just take your place.”

  Xander did as she bid and out of the corner of his eye he saw a hint of a smile on her face. Either he’d passed some sort of test or the woman had lost her mind. When Xander stood in his place the woman beckoned to the shadows and a pair of men dressed in black emerged. He hadn’t noticed them standing there.

  “The candidates will be divided into three groups of four. One team will answer to me. Each of the others will answer to one of these men.” She nodded toward the new arrivals. She pointed to the younger man. “Sorren, you may choose first.”

  Sorren gave them all a cursory glance then pointed to the woman to his left. “You.” He pointed and Xander and the two men to his right. “You three as well.”

  Sorren stepped out of the circle and Xander and the others followed. They hadn’t taken three steps when a young man entered the hall. The mistress spotted him. “You there, how dare you interrupt?”

  The unfortunate young man scurried over and handed her a note. He flinched when she snatched it out of his hand. She read it then turned and glared at Xander. Now what had he done to upset the woman?

  “Grandfather wants to see you,” the mistress said. “The messenger will show you the way.”

  Xander turned to his controller and raised an eyebrow. “Grandfather is our guild master,” Sorren said. “You’d best not keep him waiting. I will show the others to their quarters. You’ll be in east dorm room one.”

  “Yes, sir.” Xander followed the messenger back the way he’d come. They walked down the hall and Xander asked, “Why does Grandfather want to see me?”

  The messenger looked back at him. “I haven’t the slightest idea. No one tells me anything, I just deliver the messages.”

  Xander nodded, not expecting anything else. So far he’d annoyed the mistress of candidates and gotten called to the guild master’s presence. He hadn’t even been in the mountain for an hour.

  They turned down a short connecting hall and stopped before a black door carved with a death’s head design. “This must be it,” Xander said.

  The messenger nodded and rapped on the door. “Enter,” a voice from behind the door said.

  “I’ll wait here until you’re done,” the messenger said. “East dorm in on the other side of the mountain and you’ll get lost if I don’t show you the way.”

  “Thanks.” Xander pushed the grim door open and stepped through. The master’s chambers were lit with scores of black candles. Black silk hung from the ceiling and seated on a cushion, surrounded by pillows in the center of the room was the most wrinkled man Xander had ever seen.

  “Come here,” the ancient figure said.

  Xander wondered if Grandfather was some sort of undead creature. He hesitated a moment then sat down in front of the guild master. “Sir?”

  A smile pulled his wrinkles tight. “Call me Grandfather.”

  “Yes, Grandfather.”

  The old man chuckled. “I expect you’re wondering why you’re here. You and everyone else that knows I sent for
you.”

  “The question crossed my mind.”

  “I won’t keep you in suspense. The fellow that recommended you is my great nephew. He’s been an evaluator for five years and you’re the first candidate he’s sent to us. That alone would peak my curiosity, but combined with the detailed report of your personal history I’ve became enchanted. I can scarcely remember a candidate with a more unfortunate past. Is it true you joined us so you could use our resources to find your family’s killer?”

  “Yes, Grandfather.”

  The old man laughed again. “I appreciate your honesty. Take this.” Grandfather picked up a black box that blended so well with the cushions Xander hadn’t seen it sitting there.

  Xander accepted the box and offered a seated bow. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Well don’t sit there looking at it, open it up.”

  Xander did as instructed and inside found a mask that appeared identical to his own save that the eye hole was covered with a clear lens made of crystal. Beside the mask rested a vial filed with a viscous red liquid.

  “If you smear a thin layer of the liquid on the lens it will allow you to see in the dark until it dries. A useful trick for someone in your new line of work.”

  “I’ll do my best to use it wisely.”

  “And I’ll keep my eye on you. Kraven has excellent instincts and if he saw something special in you I expect you’ll do well.”

  Sensing a dismissal Xander got up and bowed again. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

  The old man smiled and waved him off.

  Xander left the dark room and found the messenger waiting outside, a look of trepidation on his face. “How’d it go?”

  “Very well, he even gave me a gift.” Xander held up the box for the young man’s inspection.

  “Wow.”

  “I know, now aren’t you supposed to show me to my quarters? Number one in the east dorm.”

  “Sure, east dorm, follow me.”

  They walked through the mountain at a brisk pace. Once in a while the messenger would pause and point out a mark hidden in the grain of the wood that allowed those who knew how to read them to find their way anywhere in the mountain. I would take practice, but Xander felt sure he’d learn his way around.