The Trials (Assassin's Intent Book 1)

by Lanford, K. W.

  The Trials

  (Book One of The Assassin’s Intent)

  By K. W. Lanford

  Copyright 2012 K.W.Lanford

  License Agreement

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Martial Trials

  Chapter 2: The Order

  Chapter 3: The Acrobat

  Chapter 4: The Secret

  Chapter 5: A Shadow in the Night

  Chapter 6: Family

  Chapter 7: The Ghost of Aramis

  Chapter 8: Gathering Information

  Chapter 9: The Heist

  Chapter 10: Aftermath

  Chapter 11: Home

  Chapter 12: The Request

  Chapter 13: Cat and Mouse

  Chapter 14: Trust

  Chapter 15: Espionage

  Chapter 16: Hearts and Daggers

  Chapter 17: Unexpected Guest

  Chapter 18: Magic and Mayhem

  Book Two Sampler

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Website

  Chapter One

  Martial Trials

  Aram threw himself backwards, arms spread wide till his back was parallel to the floor. He blinked as the tip of the long sword flashed past his nose. With strength and coordination that only comes from years of rigorous training, he snapped back upright with incredible speed, just behind the blade. The surprise on the swordsman’s face in that moment would make Aram chuckle to himself for years to come. As he came back up he extended the first two fingers on his right hand and faster than a striking cobra, he jabbed them deftly into the swordsman’s throat.

  This was a dangerous move. Without perfect execution, the intended target could be killed, or just really upset, leaving you vulnerable. Killing the swordsman would mean Aram had to spend two more years in training before being allowed to test again, which was something he was loath to do. Despite the risk, this was an attack that he truly favored. It was quick and effective if properly executed and Aram had spent years perfecting his use of the technique. He could hit someone with enough force to do anything from making them spontaneously lose their lunch to killing them.

  The long sword clattered to the ground as the swordsman grasped his throat, mouth agape, struggling for breath. He threw one arm up over his head, signaling defeat. Aram casually walked by his opponent, delivering a quick jab into his midsection as he passed. The impact forced air out of the swordsman’s lungs reopening his airway. He fell to his knees, gulping great, deep, breaths of life sustaining air.

  Three steps from exiting the arena, Aram came to a dead stop and slowly turned towards the far end of the arena. From the shadows on the upper balcony there came a slow, mocking, clap. As Aram looked deeply into the shadow, one of his instructors, Master Camen, stepped into the light. Continuing his mocking applause, he said. "Oh, well done. Well done indeed. It would seem we have a lucky fool in our midst."

  Aram simply shrugged and said. "Call it whatever you like. I have passed this trial and am ready to move on in my training."

  Master Camen’s gaunt face instantly turned beat red. Unlike Aram, he seemed to have zero control over his anger. "You have passed nothing, you impudent whelp, until I say you have!"

  Master Rygar stood up from the witness booth and cleared his throat rather loudly. Aram and Master Camen turned their attention to him. "I beg your pardon, Master Camen. But it would seem the young apprentice has, as per the guide lines, indeed passed the trial!"

  Master Camen bristled. "And who sets these guide lines?"

  Master Rygar bowed to Master Camen. "As master of the Order, that would fall upon you, Master Camen. However, these are the same guide lines that were set down by the founding fathers centuries ago. You would be the first master of the Order to deem them unworthy."

  Master Camen leaned forward, resting both hands on the guard rail of the balcony while staring down at Master Rygar. The old fool had a point. Although he was master of the Order, it was only by consensus of his peers. If he were to suddenly proclaim that the guidelines which had been followed for centuries were faulty, he would have to convince the other masters of the same idea. Then the answer came to him and he smiled at Master Rygar."Master Rygar, the guidelines themselves are not at fault! Where we have failed is in the quality of the weapons class! Clearly, this sorry excuse for a swordsman wasn’t ready to be given his trial! Surely, you would agree a six second trial cannot be considered a pass? The oaf swung his sword, missed and was beaten before the trial could even begin!"

  Master Rygar bowed towards Master Camen again. "It did seem rather short lived, I’ll grant you that. However, Young Tollis there is the top of his class and has passed all the requirements for the trials!"

  Hearing his name, the swordsman stood up. "Masters, I let his speed take me by surprise; a mistake I will not repeat. Give me another chance!"

  Both masters looked at him, but it was Master Camen that spoke. "If you were properly trained and ready for the trials, you wouldn’t have been surprised! Now get back to your weapons instructor and inform him I will be by later to discuss his teaching methods!"

  Tollis hung his head and left the arena. Aram started chuckling to himself. He should have realized that if he made it look easy he would have to do it again. It has been the same way with every trial he'd had so far. When he was in the weapons training (the class ahead of poor Tollis), he beat the Martial student in the class ahead of him in less than ten seconds. He was then forced to repeat the trial against two martial students at the same time. That hadn't really been a challenge for him either. He truly had no idea why everything seemed to come to him so easily, but he had learned his lesson and had dragged that match out for at least fifteen minutes just to give a good show.

  When Aram was in a fight, or working on disarming a trap, he went into a state of complete focus. It was kind of like a trance, where he was aware of everything around him at once and time seemed to slow. It had always been this way for him, as long as he could remember. He'd thought it was normal and that everyone did it when they concentrated hard enough. But lately he was starting to believe that wasn’t the case.

  The blood raced suddenly back into Master Camen’s face as he watched Aram stand there chuckling. "Did you find something in that exchange humorous, Apprentice?"

  Aram suddenly realized it must look to the masters as if he enjoyed watching Tollis humiliated. While that sort of attitude wasn’t frowned upon in this Order, it did go against his nature. "No, Master Camen, not at all. Apprentice Tollis is an exceptional swordsman. What strikes me as funny is that you cannot see it! The way I figure it, the only way I can prove myself in this trial is for you yourself to come pick up that sword and let me show you."

  Aram knew that Master Camen was the weapons instructor before he was voted into his current position. He also knew Master Camen’s ego wouldn’t let a challenge like that stand. He was counting on it. He was tired of the constant doubt surrounding his hard earned (relatively speaking) skills. What he didn’t know was if he could win. He also wanted to know for himself if he was that much better than his peers, or if circumstances just made it appear that way, as Master Camen kept saying.

  Master Camen didn’t even bother to voice his outrage. He gripped the rail
and in one fluid motion vaulted over it. He dropped from the upper balcony onto the arena floor twenty feet below. He landed on his feet, collapsing his knees and going into a well-practiced roll to absorb the impact. Aram was stunned! He knew his later training included tumbling, but this was incredible. Master Camen walked smoothly across the arena floor. As he walked past the long sword lying in the dirt, he slipped his toe under the blade, flipping it up into his hand without breaking stride. Aram suddenly wondered if his mouth had finally gotten him in deeper than he could handle.

  Master Camen led off with his sword in a diagonal slash. This was one of the more difficult moves to avoid when fighting unarmed. Aram stepped smoothly into it, ducked under the blade and spun towards the sword arm. The blade passed harmlessly behind his shoulders, but it came closer than any blade he had ever tried to dodge. Knowing the master would be wise to that maneuver, he wasn’t surprised in the least when the master’s elbow came quickly towards his nose. Trying to avoid the blow would only put him in an awkward position. Instead, he caught the elbow with both hands, jumped into the air and pushed. He let the force of the blow add to his own push, propelling him back out of reach and on equal footing with the master.

  Aram gained a little confidence at the look of surprised respect the move earned him. Master Camen came in harder this time, with a rapid series of jabs and slashes. Aram was up to the task. The blade of the long sword was moving so fast, Aram could actually hear it cutting the air. Yet air was all it ever cut. The blade came across from Aram’s left to his right with frightening speed. He threw himself back, in a mirror image of the maneuver he used on Tollis. Again, he snapped back up, extending his first two fingers and struck.

  Master Camen was ready for it and as Aram expected, the razor sharp edge of the blade snapped into position in front of the master's throat. Knowing it would have been unlikely the master would fall for the same trick he had just chastised someone else for; Aram altered it just a bit. Instead of going for the master's throat, Aram’s fingers darted to the shoulder of Master Camen’s sword arm, deftly and accurately hitting the nerve. The look of surprise on Master Camen’s face was pure treasure, as far as Aram was concerned.

  The master took a quick step back, reaching out to catch the hilt of the sword in his left hand, his now useless right arm falling to his side. "Well played, young Aram; well played indeed!"

  Aram was stunned! Not only did he just get praise from the hard-nosed master, but he had called him by name! He didn’t have time to dwell on it though, for the sword came right back in at him. It whistled toward him with the same speed and precision as it would have in the master's right-hand. Who would have thought the old master was ambidextrous?

  Aram began to worry as the fight wore on. He could feel himself starting to fatigue. Never had he stood before someone as fast and adept with the sword as the master. Aram’s newfound respect for his master, multiplied by the second. During one of the few lulls in the action, Aram happened to notice that the seats in the arena were near to full.

  "It seems word travels fast here." Master Camen said. He turned the point of his sword towards the dirt, stabbing it into the ground. "Enough!" He yelled.

  Master Camen turned toward the now full witness booth and what appeared to be every master in the Order. "It would seem I owe Apprentice Aram and all of you an apology."

  Aram stood there with his jaw hanging slack. Master Camen continued. "I haven’t enjoyed a sparring match this good in years! Truly, this apprentice has not only learned enough of the martial training to fairly pass the test, but I may offer him a position as martial master!" There were several chuckles from the witness booth, but the apprentices sat in stunned silence.

  Master Camen chuckled at the worried look that crossed the martial master's face. "Fear not, Master Julius; I doubt he would accept for a few more years yet." Master Camen broke into a hearty laugh. He looked around the room at all the stunned faces and then laughed even harder. "Loosen up, you louts! It’s truly a time for celebration! Apprentice Aram has just graduated from martial Training!"

  A great roar broke out from the crowd, apprentices and masters alike. Master Camen walked over to Aram and gave him a broad grin. "Close your mouth boy, before your tongue dries out!"

  Aram snapped his mouth shut, but the stunned look in his eyes would be awhile in fading. Master Camen just shook his head in amusement. "Apprentice Aram, you have until the tenth strike of the bell to get your belongings moved into the acrobatics wing and report to Master Arlaina for instruction."

  Aram started to walk away when Master Camen stopped him. "Just one more thing: tell Apprentice Tollis he will be able to retake his weapons trial as soon as one of your classmates is ready for their trial. I will forego the usual six month penalty. It would seem testing him against you was indeed unfair." With that, he turned and walked away.

  Aram suffered the worst beating of his life as he walked out of the arena and into the crowd of apprentices. They were all lined up to get their turn at slapping him on the back. Everyone seemed to want a play by play narrative of what it was like and how he had managed this or that. Aram never had liked to have attention drawn to him, so this newfound fame was a little disconcerting. He made his way through the crowd as fast as he could without being blatantly rude and headed for his dormitory.

  Aram had just gotten into his room and sat on the edge of his bed when the door flew open. His roommate Rix and their good friend Tollis rushed in. Tollis turned towards the door and yelled, "Back off, freaks, it’s only Aram; go play in a fire pit!"

  Aram chuckled. Tollis had a way with people. Rix jumped from the middle of the room to his own bed, spun and landed flat on his back, staring morosely at the ceiling. Tollis was finally able to slam the door shut and was muttering something about inbreeding with animals as he crossed the room.

  He walked over to the small writing table, spun the chair around and sat on it backwards facing Aram. The two stared at each other for what seemed an eternity to Aram, until an exasperated Aram said. "What?"

  Still, he got nothing from Tollis but the flat stare. Aram started feeling uncomfortable under that hard gaze, so he said the only thing that came to mind. "Is that a hickey on your throat from one of the boys in your class?"

  Tollis broke into a broad grin and then laughed out loud. "That was a helluva move there Aram; wish I could have seen it from a different perspective!" Tollis made a show of rubbing his still tender throat.

  Aram heaved a huge sigh of relief. "I was afraid you’d be pissed at me."

  Tollis shrugged. "Naaa, we all knew I didn’t stand a chance of beating you today. Oh and by the way, thanks for not letting me die." With that, Tollis threw back his head and let out a great roar of laughter.

  Aram looked over at Rix. "So who pissed in your boots?"

  Rix turned a hateful stare on him. "You did, you flaming idiot! You filled them full to the rim!"

  Aram blinked a couple of times and then replied with as serious of a voice as he could muster, "Well if you wouldn’t leave them by the chamber pot like a slob, they might still be dry! How can I be held responsible for my aim the pitch dark?"

  Rix rolled his eyes. "You really are a moron, aren’t you? You have no idea what you have done to me. You’re just blissfully traipsing along, picking daisies, unaware that you’re the village idiot!"

  Aram sat there stunned and said. "But I like daisies."

  Rix rolled off the bed and onto his feet. "Think about it, Aram! Now Tollis has to wait six months before he can retake the trials! Where do you imagine that puts me? Stolly will be ready for the martial trials within the month, so he will get Fat Willie! Fat Willie was my ace in the hole! Now Stolly will get Fat Willie and the guy after him will get Tollis! And let’s see, who do you suppose is in line behind Stolly? That’s right, it’s MEEEE! Does anyone in this room think I have a fart's chance in a windstorm against this great oaf here? I didn’t think so!"

  Aram busted out laughing! He laughed so
hard tears were streaming down his cheeks. Rix looked on the verge of tears himself, but not the tears of mirth Aram was enduring. "It’s not funny, Aram! Six months till I have to face this mule we call friend. Then when I lose, I will have to wait six more months before I can retake the trial and the gods only know who I will have to fight then! You have damned me to another year of this hell hole!"

  Aram tried to catch his breath and then said. "I did the best thing for you! Now, you will not have to go through life knowing you only graduated due to a fluke! Just think of the moral dilemma I have saved you from!"

  Rix snatched his pillow from his bed and threw it at Aram with lethal intent. "Go to sleep, Aram; just close your eyes and go to sleep."

  Aram laughed again and looked over at Tollis. "Oh by the way, Tollis old chum, Master Camen asked me to tell you he is going to forego the six month penalty. You will be retaking the trial within the month, according to ole sour puss over there! As an added bonus, you get to put a scar or two on Stolly. Let’s see how much nicer he is to you between now and then." Rix and Tollis both stared at him, dumbstruck.

  Tollis said. "Why?"

  Rix said. "Forget why, you overgrown ape! Fat Willie, here I come!"

  Aram leaned back against the wall and started checking the cleanliness of his finger nails. "It would seem Master Camen thought your trial was unfair, due to the extraordinary prowess of your opponent."

  Tollis let out a low whistle. "That must have been some fight you two had."

  Aram just pointed behind Tollis. Tollis turned around and he and Aram both busted out laughing at Rix, who was blissfully dancing around the room singing. "WoooHooo Fat Willie Fat Willie"

  The bells tolled six times; it was time for dinner. Aram, Rix and Tollis headed for the great hall. Rix and Aram were both in martial training, so they sat two tables away from Tollis, who was in weapons training. However, two tables weren’t nearly far enough away to avoid hearing Stolly’s obnoxious voice carry across the hall. "So it’s true: the great swordsman failed his trial in--what was it? Oh yes, six seconds!" Stolly’s two lackeys let out great guffaws.