The Binder's Game (The Sighted Assassin Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  I pulled my black cloak around me, knowing that I couldn’t blend in, even at night. It was more than simply the cloak. My height made me stand out wherever I was within the city. Even if my height didn’t give me away, there was no mistaking my eyes for anyone other than one of Elaeavn. It had been years since I blended into a city, years since I had been back in the city where I’d been born. Banishment forced me to leave, and my training kept me away.

  People made room for me to move through the streets. I wanted only to see what I could learn about Benahg and where he lived, but had hoped to do so with some discretion. Even coming at night hadn’t helped. Lanterns were lit every two dozen paces or so, giving a bright light that pressed back the shadows and the night. Guards patrolled openly, their heavy boots sounding off the worn cobbles of the street, the tall plumes on their gleaming helms a signal to others around them to give them room. When I saw guards, I made a point of turning to the side and ducking my head down so that I didn’t stand out. With as many people as were around, I wasn’t sure they would even notice me, but I wasn’t willing to chance it.

  I found Shengard, the street the healer had mentioned. A massive home was set off from the corner by a tall stone fence around it. In this part of the city, having that much space for the home and the land meant wealth. I knew little about Benahg, only enough to know that he served on the council, but not how he’d come to serve. Given the scale of the house, I suspected his wealth had bought him access.

  I paused as I approached the fence, making a slow circle around it as I tried to find the easiest way that I might cross the wall and enter the grounds. More guards were stationed along the front of the house, but these didn’t appear to be city guards. They wore short swords and armor, but no helms that marked them the same way as the city guard. These men appeared more attentive than the guards I’d passed earlier and made a point of keeping their eyes moving, searching all around.

  I’d dealt with well-trained men like this before, but how many would I need to get past? I’d planned this as nothing more than a scouting mission, wanting to learn how well protected Natash would be. Now it was clear that he was very protected. If he was in the compound, I might not be able to reach him.

  If Natash was responsible for what had happened to Talia, I had even more reason to reach him. I still didn’t know how he had known that I would care about her. When his men had attacked the Brite Pot before, I’d not given them a chance to return and share with him. That was a mistake Isander had ensured I wouldn’t make. But then, I hadn’t expected Natash to prove resourceful enough to take up refuge with Ben. Maybe he was better connected than I gave him credit for.

  For some reason, I still felt like I was a piece in someone else’s game. Orly wanted access to the Binders. Not only access, but control. Carth wanted me to be the barrier between the Binders and the thief-master. And Natash wanted me dead.

  I doubted that it was really that simple. It never was.

  I’d failed to get answers from Orly and after speaking with Carth, I was left with nothing more than a sense of confusion. That left dealing with Natash. Even with the risk of entering this massive compound, he was the easiest problem to solve.

  But now wasn’t the time. Not until I knew when he’d return. For all that I knew, Natash wasn’t even in the compound right now.

  Noise from the street caught my attention. People jostled away from the center of the street and the iron gate in front of the house opened. I pushed through the crowd and saw a glimpse of Natash as he walked among four guards, each dressed with dark leathers and moving with the grace of the sellsword I’d seen with Orly.

  Damn the timing. Now that I knew Natash was here, could I really wait and attempt to return later?

  I reached the corner and turned, weaving my way down the street and making an effort to keep my head low as I went so that I could remain somewhat hidden. Another guard watched around the side of the wall on this street, but from what I could tell, there was only one. I weaved toward him and as he noticed me, I flicked a dart toward him. He blinked a moment and then fell in a heap.

  Evanshaff. Carth had left a vial of the oil. My experience with it told me that it had uses, but it was normally hard to acquire. It would last longer than coxberry, and didn’t require that I kill the guards.

  I stopped next to him and pulled him to the side, propping him against the stacked stone wall. He carried a crossbow and a short sword. I left the sword but took the crossbow. A weapon like that had uses, especially since I didn’t know what I might find.

  I made my way down the street and stopped between two lanterns, where their shadows mingled. Glancing around, I quickly leapt over the fence and landed in a crouch on the other side. I heard nothing to indicate I’d been spotted. Natash and the group he’d entered with had disappeared into the house.

  The yard was vibrant for Eban. Flowering plants grew along the wall. A few evergreens were groomed so that they appeared to take the shape of animals. The sounds of running water whispered in the night, but I couldn’t see the stream. Maintaining a garden like this would take incredible wealth.

  I kept low as I started toward the house. Candles flickered in three of the windows facing this side, and voices murmured quietly somewhere to my right. I veered that way, moving as stealthily as I could.

  A couple lounged on chairs behind a statue. They were well dressed, and spoke softly to each other. I wasn’t a Listener and couldn’t hear what they said, but my Sight showed me the wandering hands and the caressing. I wouldn’t have to worry about those two.

  I moved on, keeping my head bowed as I did. I nearly stumbled onto the next guard.

  He stood off to the side of a path leading to the house. Had I not been focused on the house, I might have smelled the tobanash he chewed. His eyes went wide when he saw me, and I jumped forward, clamping my hand to his mouth as I jabbed at him with an evanshaff-tipped dart.

  He twitched and then went down, sliding slowly to the ground.

  I let out a soft breath. I’d almost been caught before I even had a chance to reach the house. That alone should have warned me off, but I was determined, especially after what had happened to Talia.

  With a quiet effort, I dragged the man into the garden and dropped him next to a cluster of trees, leaving him covered by a shadow. If anyone came looking for him, they would sound the alarm—but then, if anyone came looking, I might be in trouble regardless. There was no way of hiding him short of throwing him over the wall, and that would only lead to more questions.

  I made my way back toward the house, checking my remaining darts. The pouch held nearly a dozen, and I had the crossbow were I to need it. The weapon was a little blunter than I preferred, but then again, I preferred coming out alive. That had been one of the earliest lessons Isander had taught me.

  Up close, the house was shadowed and I slipped into the edge of darkness. My Sight allowed me to move easily, and I trailed along the edge of the house. At the first window, I paused and listened. I heard nothing.

  Standing on my toes, I tipped my head so that I could look inside. A fire glowed in the hearth. A pair of chairs sat in front of it. A circular table was nearest to me, with empty chairs all around it. No one moved.

  I slid beneath the window and continued on. Every so often, I glanced to the garden but saw no sign of anyone else. How many guards were stationed there? If only the one, I would count myself lucky, but I’d seen pairs of guards, so it made me wonder what I might have missed.

  As I reached the corner of the house and prepared to turn, I felt pressure in my back.

  Damn.

  “Who sent you?” a voice whispered.

  I jumped forward and twisted. The man had expected the movement and shoved the knife deep into my back. I bit back the grunt, knowing that any sound would only draw more attention. It wasn’t the first time I’d been stabbed—given the line of work I’d chosen, I doubted that it would be the last—and the way I’d shifted my body had caused
the knife to run along the muscle rather than shoving deeply into me and risking more serious injury. Painful, but the knife wound itself wouldn’t be fatal.

  Knowing the pain I would experience, I twisted anyway. The knife tore through me, catching on the thick cloak I wore, but ripped free of his hand so that I could face him.

  He was compact and muscular, with flat gray eyes and short, dark hair. I hadn’t seen any guards like him in the garden or outside on the street. With as stealthy as he’d been to sneak up on me, I figured him for a sellsword. If he was Neelish, I needed to get to my pouch quickly or I’d be dead soon.

  I flipped a dart at him, but he ducked to the side, moving quickly. A dark smile twisted his face. The second dart didn’t miss and caught him in the cheek.

  He spasmed briefly and crumpled.

  That surprised me. The dart had only been tipped in coxberry. I hadn’t the chance to reach for anything more toxic. I checked my back. The wound was deep, but far enough to the side that it was mostly through the muscle. I didn’t have time to bind it.

  I checked the sellsword and noted the way blood burbled to his lips. That wasn’t coxberry either.

  Pulling his lip back, I saw the remains of a wax capsule in the back of his throat. Using the man’s sword, I dipped it into the capsule and pulled it forward. I felt weak, as if the evanshaff was hitting me again, and nearly dropped the knife.

  Neelish, then. The knife would be poisoned.

  I reached into my pouch, where I kept narcass leaves. After healing Carth’s friend, I had replaced them, but obtaining narcass from the local apothecary risked quality. They weren’t fresh, but dried at least gave me a chance at survival. My body began to tense, fighting the effect of whatever poison the Neelish blade carried. I couldn’t be certain, but I’d been exposed to Neelish blades before, and narcass worked as a general sort of curative.

  When I pressed the leaves to my lips, I began to convulse. I bit down and chewed, sucking on the dry leaf. My mouth puckered and the leaves scraped along the inside of my tongue, but if I did nothing, I likely wouldn’t survive.

  The convulsion passed. As it did, I heard voices coming at me from the garden.

  Damn. I was in no shape to fight, and might not be for some time. Natash had been smart to hire sellswords able to keep him safe. Combined with the protection offered by hiding with Benahg, there might not be a way to get to him.

  I dragged myself toward the house, needing to find somewhere better protected than lying out in the open. There wasn’t anything I could do for the fallen sellsword, not in my current state.

  I continued to work the narcass leaves, chewing them into something much like a paste and sucking every bit of healing from them that I could. My body began to loosen, but the aches in my joints from how the poison affected me lingered. I wouldn’t have the same strength that I was normally accustomed to. If I couldn’t get the feeling back in my fingers, I might not have the flexibility I needed to grab my remaining darts. It would leave me helpless.

  The voices continued to close in. As they did, the mixture of high and low told me that this was the couple I’d spied in the garden. Maybe I’d get lucky and they wouldn’t see the body. I could hope they wouldn’t even see me.

  Someone gasped.

  Not lucky, then.

  I fumbled for my pouch, but my fingers didn’t reach it in time. A boot kicked me and I rolled over. The face looking down at me looked familiar. He pulled back his foot again and kicked.

  “Who are you?” he asked loudly.

  Too loudly. Even if I managed to escape, there would be others coming and I wasn’t in any shape to fend them off.

  I tried to speak, but my voice came out in a grunt. I’d been a fool, thinking that I could sneak into Benahg’s garden, weakened as I had recently been. A dangerous gambit, but one driven by the sense of needing to find revenge for what had happened to Talia. Now I would pay for the arrogance of thinking that I could sneak in here and successfully reach him.

  The woman met my eyes. I saw something there like a flickering of recognition, but then it was gone.

  The man pulled his boot back to kick. I rolled to protect myself and felt the crossbow under me. I’d forgotten about it until now. It wasn’t a weapon I usually used, but at this point, I would try anything.

  I gripped the handle and leaned back to aim, still feeling too weak to raise it on my own. My attacker didn’t see it or thought he could get to me before I pulled the trigger. The bolt released with a solid sound and struck him in the stomach.

  He dropped.

  The woman continued to stare at me. I expected her to tend to the man, but she didn’t. I thought she might scream, but she didn’t.

  What had I walked into?

  A disaster. That much was clear. And now I had to find some way to get myself out.

  Noise came from the front of the house. Still, the woman didn’t scream. She stood there, watching me, as if studying me.

  I crawled toward the wall as footsteps raced across the pavers, and I reached the shadows along the back wall of the garden as the two fallen men were found. Voices moved off, but not toward me. Rather, they made their way to the back of the garden.

  My strength was finally starting to return, enough that I could stand. I touched the wall, ready to jump, when I thought better of it.

  With men out of the house and chasing after me, I might not have a better time to reach Natash. Was I strong enough to make an attempt?

  Going back now would be the kind of folly Isander had always warned me against, but if I did nothing, Natash would send attackers again. Maybe even after Talia again. Between Orly and Carth, and what happened to Talia, I needed to have some control. Stopping Natash would be the start of that.

  I flexed my fingers. The feeling had mostly returned. Strength had returned to my legs, maybe enough to run if needed. I pressed my hand against the cool stone wall, knowing better than the thoughts running through my head. I should return to my rooms, recover as much as I could, and then make another attempt at Natash. Now that I knew the surroundings, I’d be better prepared. Then again, so would he.

  With a sigh, I grabbed a pair of darts, checked the knife tucked into my waist, and staggered toward the house.

  15

  Sounds from the back of the garden told me the search had continued. From what I could tell, no one remained near the house. The sellsword had been left lying where he’d fallen, but the other man had been moved. A trail of blood led toward the house. Somehow, my trail toward the wall had been obscured. I’d have to understand that later.

  I still chewed the narcass as I loped toward the front side of the house. With each bite, I felt a little bit of my strength coming back to me. Maybe by the time that I needed it, I would be back near full strength.

  I rounded the corner and nearly collided with another man gripping a crossbow. I fell to the side and flipped a dart at him. The mistake I’d made earlier had been in my unwillingness to use terad. That was a mistake I didn’t repeat.

  The man fell quickly.

  Moving on, I reached the front door and pushed it open. Candles flickered within, giving light that I didn’t need. I paused, listening as much as looking around. A shadow slipped past the doorway in the distance. Moving as soundlessly as I could, I hurried to the doorframe and stood behind it. When the person on the other side neared, I stepped through.

  Another man, this one with a pointed beard and a thick mustache. His mouth dropped open when he saw me. The dart caught him in the throat before he could speak.

  I dragged him toward the door and continued into the house. Where had they taken the man with the crossbow injury? The trail of blood stopped inside the front hallway. I expected him on this level, but there was no sign of him.

  This floor consisted of eight connected rooms. From what I could tell, each was empty. I made my way quickly through the rooms, searching for Natash, but saw no one. The kitchens were toward the back of the house, and I glanced inside,
noting only a plump servant dressed in white. She raised her hands defensively and I shook my head.

  “Where is he?” I hissed.

  “D-don’t kill me!” she said too loudly.

  Damn, but I didn’t want to harm the servant. She’d done nothing to deserve it.

  I reached into my pouch and slipped out a coxberry-tipped dart and flipped it at the woman, catching her in the chest. Her eyes went wide as it sunk into her flesh, blood staining her shirt and spreading out around the dart.

  Steps sounded off boards on an upper level at the same time I heard the voices searching outside making their way back toward the house. I wouldn’t have much more time.

  I scanned the kitchen. I’d rarely been in homes this large, but if it were anything like other manor homes, there should be a servants’ stair near the back. It took a moment to find it, but it was there, against the far wall. A voice shouted toward the front of the house.

  I sprinted up the stairs. They let out into an antechamber of sorts. Plates and towels were stacked on a lacquered table nearest me. A basin of water rested along the wall. Another two servants looked over at me as I emerged. One holding a plate dropped it, and it broke with a loud crash. The other stood stiffly, as if unable to speak.

  I loosed two darts on them, catching them in the chest and arm. Both fell, thudding to the ground.

  Footsteps echoed beneath me.

  I ran to the door and pulled it open.

  Natash stood on the other side. He was tall for someone of Eban and moved lithely, with a clear familiarity for the sword he carried. A dark smile twisted his mouth. “Didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to attempt to attack me here.”

  In answer, I flipped a dart at him. He turned and swatted it with the flat of his sword. It seemed his reputation with the blade was well earned. Moving like that would be difficult, especially in the tight confines of the narrow hall.