The Red-Haired Assassin

by Julie Kavanagh

  “I didn't know...” Malachi started, his mouth gaping, his voice faltering but it was Gareff who sought the answers Malachi couldn't ask.

  “When did this happen?”

  “I was a child and playing by the river bank. I didn't know what to do when I heard screaming and shouting, but I couldn't move. A man on a huge black horse thrust a spear through my shoulder, but I survived. Several days later, a woman discovered me alive and raised me as her own.”

  “What did you see?” Gareff pushed gently. The woman hadn’t finished telling all she knew.

  “I remember seeing Padiskan on his horse, shouting orders and laughing. He said we deserved death for defying his father and we could go to Hell with his blessing. The man on the black horse, the man who used a spear to kill the other children and me, was called Diamand.”

  Silence held the room and its occupants in its tender hold while each of them absorbed her words. Braedan had known a little of the woman’s past, but never in her own words and never in such detail.

  “I didn't know,” Malachi whispered. “I'm sorry.”

  “I don’t care for your apologies.” Roz brushed his remorse away. She didn't have room in her life for regrets, what was the point? The past was too painful to hold in her heart. The future and the hope of revenge was the only light in her life. "Braedan, the council meeting has been brought forward to Friday, and Padiskan wants me at his side. I will be the only guard permitted inside.”

  "Friday? That's too soon; we can't be ready in that time," Braedan protested.

  "We are ready," she told him firmly, knowing he would balk at her part in this. "It's perfect."

  “What’s perfect?” Malachi asked although he didn't expect an answer from the woman who seemed to hold him to blame for all the hurts in her life.

  “This is nothing to do with you." Roz rounded on the man who'd stepped a little too close for her comfort. She was tall for a woman, but the former Prince towered over her.

  As she peered up, she hadn't noticed before how uneasy he made her feel. Her hand made its way to her throat where his blade had broken her skin, and she recalled how she'd never been caught unawares by any man since her youth. She was the best in her field and hated the thought that maybe this ex-royal was better. His dark eyes caressed her face, and she felt the warmth of a blush cross her cheeks. Thank the gods the room was in shadows.

  “You want your crown back, don’t you?” Her eyes were cold, but still she felt the rush of something through her heart.

  “Of course, but I need to be involved in anything which regains me my throne,” Malachi told her. “I cannot allow anyone to risk their lives for me.”

  She snorted at his words and looked away.

  “Padiskan has called a council meeting which will involve everyone of importance in this country. He has summoned the leading dignitaries of every large town under his control.” Roz took a deep breath before revealing the plan she and Braedan had created. After Malachi’s recent statement, she didn’t think he would approve. “I’ll smuggle in an airborne poison. Mellathrope comes in rock form, and it takes only a few nuggets to pollute an entire room. The doors will be locked to ensure the safety of the council, but this time the danger will come from within.”

  “A poison?” Malachi asked as though he couldn’t accept the possibility of anything being that easy.

  “Padiskan trusts me and has ordered the guards not to search me at any time. This is the break we’ve been waiting for. I’ve never been allowed into gatherings before.” Roz’s lips broke into an enchanting smile as though the thought of Padiskan’s death amused her.

  “How do you get out?” Malachi asked, and her beguiling smile faded.

  “This is the break we need.” She didn't answer his question. “It’s a worthwhile sacrifice and one I'm willing to make.”

  "I don't think I'm ready to make it," Malachi told her although he had no real power to command.

  "You don't have the authority to stop me," Roz hissed, incensed by his arrogance. He wasn't Prince yet and would only become so once she had completed her self-imposed mission.

  "I can stop you. I don't want the throne if it means my people die to get it..." he began, but Roz interrupted.

  “Isn’t it all a little late for that?” she sneered. “You don’t get to choose who lives and who dies anymore.”

  “This isn’t helping,” Gareff muttered, stepping closer to Malachi in his role as protector.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Malachi said, his soft words seeming to defuse the tension as Roz stepped back.

  Despite the lowering of her head, Roz would go ahead with her plan. Prince Malachi would come to see sense in it when he regained his throne. It was that, and her need to exact revenge on both Padiskan and Diamand which drew her.

  “Perhaps we should talk further on this matter,” Braedan suggested

  With a nod to Berkeley and Gareff, he watched her gather up her weapons, leave the house and slide back into the shadows.

  Chapter Seven

  “When were you going to inform me about this ridiculous plan?” Malachi spun to face Braedan, his eyes flashing even in the dim light.

  "Is there a reason you needed to know?" Braedan stood his ground even though the other man towered over him. "You want your throne back, we want you to regain your throne, and this is the only way it will happen."

  “It’s risky.” Gareff joined in the conversation although there was no way to tell whether he approved or not. “But it could work.”

  “It’s foolish.” Malachi flipped a lock of pale hair from his brow. “It’s suicidal. I don’t approve.”

  "I didn't see Roz asking for your permission. It was her idea, and this is what she wants to try, who are we to prevent her?" Braedan turned away from the other two men, refilled a glass of rich brandy for himself and one for the Prince before handing it to him. "Roz isn't foolish. She is determined to avenge the slaughter of her tribe, and this way she kills both Diamand and Padiskan.”

  “And herself,” Malachi added. He didn’t like that bit at all. Now that he knew she hadn’t turned traitor on her country, he had begun to admire her. He liked her looks, the way she held herself. Her blue-green eyes were bewitching, and he had the oddest desire to take her to the Bedarisus Ocean so that she could see that he hadn't lied.

  And when she'd smiled, he had felt his heart respond in kind. He wanted to be the man who put that smile on her face; he wanted to change her future to make up for her past.

  “It’s a good plan,” Braedan insisted.

  “I forbid it,” Malachi declared, downing the contents of his glass and enjoying the burning sensation at the back of his throat.

  “I’m sorry, son, but you’re not in the position to forbid anything. Padiskan rules this land, and this is the only way we can return your rights as ruler. If Padiskan doesn’t die, he will not permit you to live. It’s unbelievable you are still breathing this day. His patience will not last long, and once his amusement at your humiliation wears off, he will kill you.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it,” Gareff growled as his top lip curled in indignation.

  "My friend, you will be too dead to do anything about it. Don't take Padiskan for a fool. He, and his father before him are ruthless and will sacrifice anything and anyone who stands against him. He has a soft spot for Roz, and if that means she is allowed into that meeting, then we would be the fools not to snatch that opportunity.”

  Malachi sighed and slumped onto the wooden bench by the fire. The dying flames played with the shadows on his face, and he wrestled with his need to oppose Braedan’s logic. How could he allow her to walk into certain death? It just didn’t sit right with him? Hadn’t she suffered enough? He wanted more for her and maybe for himself too.

  If she were still here, he might scoop her into his arms to soothe the frown scarring her brow. He wanted to see her smile, to hear her laughter although he knew it was an impossible hope for he was a failed Prin
ce and she was the one who kept his enemy safe.

  THE SUN HAD RISEN EARLY, and Roz had woken late. She gathered up her weapons and headed to the clearing where she liked to practice. As always, she was alone, but today it felt different.

  Going through her moves, she felt heavy and stiff, as though she didn't believe in the moves she knew by heart. She didn't know what had caused the change and that could be a dangerous mistake. She had learned never to underestimate her feelings, and although mostly she locked them away, today they seemed to overwhelm her. Tomorrow would be a momentous time for everyone left in this realm, and she would be the one to bring about the changes so badly needed. She didn't fear death, for it had been her goal for longer than she could remember.

  Her people believed in the sanctity of a good death. A warrior should die with honor in the heat of battle. Not in the middle of a truce and not at the hands of brutal murderers who slaughtered women and innocent children.

  She had regrets, although not many. She wished once to marry and raise a family but never had she found a man who appealed to her. Not until now, but even so she knew she had set her goals too high.

  Malachi was a Prince, a ruler of this land, who she wished to return to the throne. She was nothing in his eyes. Her blood was of a common tribe even though she may be the last of her kind. He wouldn’t look once, let alone twice at her.

  She believed she hadn't been the only survivor of the massacre which destroyed her tribe, her family, and her life. She'd heard rumors of another child found alive, a little girl. She'd been named Azure through the color of her eyes, but Roz had never found the truth in the story. Her younger sister, Reya had had eyes like her own and dark red hair. Their mother teased that they had been twins born nine years apart.

  The unwelcome truth had been harder to accept. The massacre had yielded female children to be sold at slave markets while the women, the men, and boys were killed, leaving no one to avenge their murders or to tell tales of the wicked brutality.

  Roz accepted had to accept that had little Reya survived, she must be a slave, and she had no way to find her.

  She started the moves which she knew to perfection, but today she didn't feel as though anything flowed. Her arms felt stiff, and her legs ached. Pushing her hair off her face, she gathered up her weapons and headed home. Maybe, some food would help.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She spun, her favorite blade in her hand as Malachi approached. He stopped when the tip of her knife touched the cloth of his tunic. He stared silently as though daring her to push the blade further.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, without lowering the blade.

  "I brought food." He grinned, shaking a package wrapped in brown paper. "They're from the Palace kitchens, and I'm sure they have not been poisoned."

  She turned away from him, returning her knife to its scabbard at her hip before starting the short walk to her home. She listened for his footsteps behind her, but he walked as silently as she. He caught up and walked in time with her.

  "You're sure no one has poisoned them?" she asked with a grin. Malachi nodded. "Maybe, you should try them first."

  His peal of laughter was unexpected, and she turned her head to look at him. White teeth flashed in the morning sun, and cute dimples showed in his cheeks.

  "Of course, my lady." He nodded. "You're the Prince's protector, and I'm just one prince too many."

  "Padiskan is one prince too many," Roz corrected him. "This is your kingdom, and we will return it to you."

  "Let's not talk about that now. We will argue, and I don't like to quarrel before I've eaten."

  "We're here," she said as she led the way into her home. Of course, he knew where she lived. He'd been watching her.

  "This is nice." He turned on the spot; his grin had returned.

  “It’s basic,” she admitted, as she tried to assess his reaction. For some reason, she cared what he thought of her home when she hadn’t cared what Padiskan had thought.

  “It’s better than some of the places I've lived in the past seven years. Anyway, I'm hungry. Let's eat." He showed her a thick golden pastry filled with dried fruits which smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg. He tore the wrapper in two and handed her pastry still covered, so his hands didn't touch it. She watched as he bit down into his, as he held the wrapper close to his mouth allowing no crumbs to escape. His eyes closed and she heard his sigh of delight as he chewed.

  "Where did you get these?" she asked, her mouth savoring the taste. Only Padiskan's personal cook made food this delicious.

  “The kitchen maids seem to like me. I eat like this every morning,” he replied with a wide grin so she couldn’t tell if he had lied.

  She noted how carefully he ate, unlike Padiskan who hadn't noticed the mess of crumbs he'd strewn across her spotless floor.

  “I thought you’d been imprisoned in your chamber. I know Padiskan checks that your door is locked at night. I think he fears you crawling into his chamber in the dark with a blade aimed at his throat,” she told him. He waited until he had finished his food and wiped his mouth with the wrapper before he replied.

  “If only it were that easy. My door is locked every night and I think there’s a couple of guards out there too but Padiskan doesn’t know the Palace like I do. I grew up there and I know all the secret passages.”

  “Secret Passages?” Roz laughed. “But how did you get out of the gate?”

  “Not all the guards are loyal to Padiskan. Some look the other way when I pass by, that’s how I got here.”

  "I'm sure many in the palace are faithful to you, and when the time is right, they will show it." She finished her pastry under his watchful eyes. He looked as though he wanted to say more. Once she had cleared away the wrappers and fetched them both cups of cool water, he sat down at the wooden table.

  “What about you, Roz? Are you faithful to me?”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, her eyes kept low as though she didn’t want to catch the expression on his face. His tone suggested something different to his words.

  “Am I your Prince? Are you loyal to me?”

  “I’ve always been loyal to your family. I would disrespect everything my father believed in and died for if I were not.”

  "I'm truly sorry for what happened to your family, and your tribe. My father believed the lies Padiskan and his usurper father spewed when he signed the treaty. If he had known about the atrocities carried on after the agreement was signed, I know he would have fought on for you all."

  “It’s too late for my family,” Roz whispered. It hurt to think of them even after this time. “But I think my baby sister survived. Padiskan ordered that the men, women and boys should be killed, but the young girls were taken away to be sold. I dressed as a boy in those days, and luckily a local woman found me before I bled to death. She raised me as her own but I have heard rumours of a girl with my colour eyes who also escaped.”

  She watched as Malachi frowned, but when he said no more, she dismissed the look. He stood, replaced the empty cup onto the table and approached her.

  "You are such a lovely woman, and I would never forgive myself if I didn't do this."

  Although she was tall, his height made her feel feminine. His warm lips touching hers brought a passion she hadn't known existed inside her. Her life had focussed around the revenge she needed for the deaths of her family, and although, she had idly dreamt of a strong, gentle man to love her, she hadn't really believed it possible.

  His arms formed a strong cage around her; his body felt warm, so enticing. She wanted to relax into his embrace, to forget about the cruelty of the world outside her small home but all too soon, he released her and stepped back.

  “There are many wrongs to be made right in this land and I don’t want your death to be one of them,” he told her, his head still bent and his lips touched the top of her head. She felt the warmth of his breath caress her hair as she inhaled his words. Shaking her head in denial, she stepped away from
him, one hand on his chest to prevent him moving back toward her.

  “You are my Prince and I offer my loyalty to you but you do not have the right to command me. I have lived my life solely so I may have the change to right the wrongs committed by this foul Prince and his father before him.” Her eyes lit up with fury as she faced the taller man. “If you think that coming here with offerings of food and the liberty of stealing a kiss from my lips will persuade me to abandon the only chance we have of killing Padiskan, then you are as misguided as your father before you.”

  "I didn't mean..." Malachi began, but her caustic tone stole his next words.

  “I think you should leave. It will do my reputation no good to be seen with the former prince of this land.” She called after him as he made his way to the door. “Do not speak to me again, Prince Malachi.” And although she watched angrily as he made his way down the street toward the palace, one hand touched her tips where he had kissed her.

  Her first kiss would be her last for tomorrow she would die.

  “I THOUGHT YOU WERE dead!” Lisabeth, daughter of the true King ran across the room to throw herself into her brother’s arms. He bent his head to kiss her hair, feeling the strength of her arms around his neck.

  “You know me, sweetling. Nothing’s going to kill me.” Malachi hugged her to him, sweet relief rushing through his chest. He hadn’t been assured of her safe-keeping until he’d set eyes on her, until Padiskan had granted permission for the two of them to meet.

  Lisabeth, as fair-headed as her sibling, leaned back so she could stare up into his face.

  “People told me Padiskan’s soldiers had killed you,” she gasped, a strangled sob ending her sentence.

  “What people?” he chided gently. His beautiful sister reminded him so much of their mother that it hurt sometimes to look at her, but her tender heart had been inherited from their father. He, too, had been too soft for the position of power he’d inherited after the death of his brother. Michael had never been meant to rule until the death of King Jonas and his entire family had brought Malachi’s father to the throne. His mistakes, coming from a misguided need to protect his people, had led to the destruction of the country. He hadn’t been a weak man although the death of his queen had slowly destroyed him until Malachi hadn’t recognised him for the wise man he had once been. “As you can see, I’m still alive although I might be a zombie monster come to eat you.”