The King's Assassin

by M.M. Brownlow

  Chapter 10

  Aislynn shook herself, and turned to follow Byron out of the king’s suite, thinking that at least she could help him with the guards who had been on duty throughout the night. She had to figure out what was happening here, for Eryk’s sake. She could feel the determination underlying his grief, and she knew that he would do whatever it took to find out who had killed his father. Even if she weren’t so swayed by his feelings, she would have had to help him. It was the right thing to do.

  She heard Byron before she saw him. He had taken the pair of guards down the hall to an empty room, leaving a new shift in their place, and he was screaming at them. Perhaps I’ll end up helping the guards with Byron, instead of the other way around, Aislynn thought to herself as she hurried down the corridor.

  “How is this possible? How could it be possible that you dolts didn't see or hear anything?” Byron's face was red from the exertion of yelling at the two unfortunate guards, and he was pacing in front of them, glaring as he stalked back and forth.

  Aislynn came up behind Byron, and touched him gently on the arm, causing him to jump. He spun to face her, mouth open to say something, but he stopped short when he saw who was standing there. Even in the midst of his anger, he wouldn’t yell at her.

  “It's very possible, Byron,” she said softly. “If the same group of assassins is responsible for this, the assassin who killed Tarren is highly trained, and likely very experienced. Learning to move silently isn't that hard. It just takes practice. And if Tarren was asleep, like the healer claims, then there likely wasn't anything for the guards to hear.”

  As he listened to her, Byron began to calm a little, and the guards threw Aislynn a grateful look. They felt ashamed, knowing that this had happened on their watch, and hearing that it may not have been their fault brought them some relief from the guilt.

  “Well they should have checked his room,” Byron said, unwilling to let it go that easily. “If they had checked it properly, like they were supposed to, there wouldn't have been an assassin there to kill him.” His voice was starting to pick up volume again. “They were negligent, and they had to have missed something.”

  “Again, that's likely not true,” Aislynn said, still projecting calm as best she could. “It is most likely that the assassin entered the room after Tarren had fallen asleep. It is much easier to come at your victim when they are defenceless than it is to stay still and hidden for who knows how long. Tarren didn't keep a predictable schedule, and the Ball threw what little schedule he did have out the window.”

  “Not possible!” Byron interrupted. “Even these idiots would have seen someone walking right past them to enter the room.” Aislynn could see that Byron needed to blame someone for this, and it was going to take a lot of convincing to get him to stop haranguing the guards.

  “The assassin didn't enter the room via the door, Byron. He used the window.”

  Aislynn was certain of this. She had looked out of her own window many times, and it was located on the opposite side of the courtyard, so she had shared the view with Tarren. She knew that an experienced climber wouldn't have had a lot of difficulty scaling the wall up to his window. The guards were well trained, Byron saw to that, and they wouldn't have missed the assassin if they had checked the room as they claimed to have done. Aislynn had no reason to doubt that the guards were telling the truth, and she wished Byron could see it too.

  “The window? It's a twenty-foot drop to the courtyard, and there are guards stationed in the courtyard as well as on the walls. He would have been seen.”

  “Not likely. It was raining all night, remember?”

  “Fine, then. It was raining, so the guards may not have paid as much attention as they should have. But the rain would have hampered the assassin climbing the wall too.” Byron sounded a little less certain of this statement, as if he was starting to see that maybe the guards weren't to blame. Aislynn just needed to give him the proof he needed, just that last little push.

  “It wouldn't be that hard. I could do it,” Aislynn said. “I'll do it right now.”

  She turned and left the room, with Byron and the guards following, astounded by her claim.

  “You meet me in the king's room,” Aislynn called over her shoulder as she darted down the hall, heading downstairs and outside into the rain-soaked courtyard.

  Byron shook his head, wondering if he should get a healer so that one would be waiting if she fell, and he moved back down the hall and into the king's room, nodding distractedly to the new guards on duty. Eryk and Branden were still in the room, but Byron didn't think that would be an issue. Even though they didn't know about Aislynn yet, he would need to brief them both anyway. The other guards followed along silently, not dismissed, and not wanting to miss this. This could be the proof needed to vindicate them in their captain’s eyes.

  Eryk and Branden glanced Byron’s way when the captain walked past, his presence interrupting their quiet conversation. Byron made for the window, and confused, they followed him to see what was happening. Eryk knew Byron well enough to know that he wouldn’t be here interrupting if something important weren’t going on.

  When Byron looked out the window, he noticed that Aislynn was already a quarter of the way up the wall. He shook his head in wonder, and moved away. Eryk took his place, and drew in a shocked gasp of air at what he saw.

  “What is going on here?” he demanded, not really knowing how to make sense of the scene out the window.

  “She’s trying to prove a point,” Byron answered, a touch of exasperation evident in his voice. “She felt that the guards were not to blame for what happened to your father, and she’s proving it so that I'll leave these two alone.” He glared over his shoulder at the pair of guards, still not certain what to do with them.

  It didn't take long for Aislynn to finish her climb, reaching the window and pulling herself in. She was soaked through to the skin, and she was leaving a little puddle on the stone floor. Seeing that, she sighed and wished to herself that stone kept moisture better; it would have been the perfect corroborating evidence for her theory if the assassin had left a puddle earlier this morning.

  “There,” she said, looking at Byron. “I told you it wasn’t that hard a climb, even in the rain.”

  Eryk was staring at her, really seeing her for the first time this morning. Here was a princess from a neighboring kingdom, dressed like a boy and standing in his dead father’s room. She was wearing a pair of daggers on the belt at her waist, and he couldn't help but notice how her wet clothing was clinging to her body, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination. And she wasn’t ashamed of any of it! He had known that she was different, unlike anyone he had ever met, but this was simply too much to take.

  “What are you?” he asked softly.

  Startled by the question, Aislynn suddenly realized exactly what she must look like. She blushed and started to stammer a response, when she was interrupted.

  “She’s an assassin, like the one that killed your father.”

  It was Branden, coming up behind Eryk. “For all we know,” he continued, “she is the one who killed your father.”

  Her jaw dropped in shock, and her hands clenched reflexively in anger. “How dare you! How could you possibly make an accusation like that?”

  “Well let’s look at the facts,” he said calmly, an evil little smirk on his face. “You arrive here, make nicey-nice with the guards and a few days later, the king is dead. To top it all off, you show everyone exactly how you got into this room in the first place. It doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together.”

  “You have no idea what you are talking about, Branden.” Aislynn’s voice was taking on a tone of eerie calm, the anger draining from in entirely. Startled by the change in her demeanor, Byron went to take a small step toward her, thinking to restrain her, actually afraid of her for the first time. And afraid of what she might do if she got angry en
ough. Behind him, he heard a low, dangerous growl, and he froze immediately. He’d forgotten about Cheta.

  “Do you deny that you are an assassin?” Branden was really smiling now, his grin mocking her. He knew what she was, and he knew that she couldn't deny it. He had her trapped.

  Aislynn shook her head slowly. “No, I can’t deny that.”

  Eryk stared at her as if she were a monster that had just climbed out of the pit of some hell. She felt a curious mixture of emotions from him through the link: fear, anger, confusion and…hatred.

  “Branden is right, and it all makes sense. You are so different, so unlike normal women. You did this! You must be responsible for my father’s death.” Eryk turned to Byron. “Arrest her, immediately. I want her tried and put to death as soon as possible.”

  Byron shook his head ruefully. “I can’t do that, your Majesty. There is a lot that you don’t know yet. Besides, I think the wolf would object if I tried to touch her right now. How about we go somewhere else and talk about this. Let’s go down to your study.”

  “Fine,” Eryk spat, throwing Aislynn a look of pure disgust. “She goes first.”

  Aislynn, pained by what she was hearing and by what she was sensing, moved through the room and out the door anyway, heading for the king’s study on the first floor. The others trailed along behind her, Eryk and Branden walking side-by-side, and Byron bringing up the rear, followed closely by Cheta. The four guards were left standing by the doorway, knowing what they had heard but having no idea what to do with the information.

  When the group reached the study, Aislynn stalked inside like some angry beast. Contrary to her body language, her face was serene, her anger controlled. Byron, watching from behind, was sure that if she’d had a tail, it would be lashing from side to side, showing the anger she was trying to keep hidden. He remembered from their first meeting that she was touchy, so he could only imagine the explosion that was about to happen.

  Eryk took a seat on the couch where Rupert had lain not so many days ago, and Branden took a place behind him, standing in an effort to be intimidating. Byron shut the door and took a place beside and slightly behind Aislynn, carefully on the other side of her from Cheta.

  “Fine,” Eryk ground out between clenched teeth, not looking at Aislynn directly. “Talk.”

  Aislynn took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making sure that she’d be able to speak in a reasonably civilized manner. It was apparently time for Eryk’s history lesson. Remembering her father’s words and startled that it had only been just over a ten-day ago since she’d heard them, she began.

  “Years ago, your kingdom and mine had no contact other than the usual trade agreements and the like. However, when my country came under attack from allied nations, we turned to you for help. Your kingdom gave us that help mostly because while our emissary was here trying to forge an agreement, she saved your king from an assassination attempt.

  “It turns out that my kingdom produces some excellent assassins, who in turn make excellent bodyguards, and your kingdom has a wonderful army. A mutual protection pact was forged between our kingdoms.

  “Back then, centuries ago, there was strong magic in existence that is not here today, and some of this magic was used in the formation of the pact. Evendell will provide the monarch of Bacovia with a bodyguard, and Bacovia will in turn protect Evendell with her armies as needed.

  “Since then, a number of children in our kingdom have been born with a special birthmark, the one you noticed on my arm last night. This marks us as a potential bodyguard for your kingdom, and we begin our training about as soon as we are able to move in a coordinated fashion, around four years old or so.

  “I was sent here as a result of that pact, selected from the fully trained assassins by the magic that binds our kingdoms when Rupert died, to come and be a bodyguard for the monarchy. I couldn't possibly have killed your father; it goes against everything that I am.”

  Eryk took a moment to digest what she'd said, but Branden needed no time.

  “So you are the monarch’s bodyguard? Then why is the monarch dead?”

  “I wasn’t assigned to Tarren,” replied Aislynn, turning her head to glare at Branden. “I was assigned to Eryk, at his father’s request. After the previous assassination attempts, he decided that he wanted Eryk protected instead of himself.” She looked at Eryk for the first time since walking into the room, begging him to understand that she was sorry that this had happened but that it wasn’t her fault. He just looked at her, face blank, but she could sense the uncertainty he was feeling.

  “Why didn't you say something? We've certainly spent enough time together over the past few days.”

  “It was a secret,” she answered. “The only people who know about everyone involved in the pact are the monarch, the chief advisor, the captain of the guard and the bodyguard themselves.” She looked at Branden again. “Which makes me wonder how it is that you know so much about me? You didn't seem at all surprised by what I was saying.”

  Beside her, Cheta growled low in her throat, a quiet, rumbling sound, picking up Aislynn’s anger as it built anew.

  “My father didn't trust you, and he told me about you the very night that you arrived here,” Branden answered. “He was concerned because Tarren was obviously blinded by his relationship with your father. But my father is wiser than he was; that’s why Tarren relied on his advice. My father saw the previous assassination attempts for what they were, a ruse to get rid of a loyal bodyguard and put a deceptive wench in his place.

  “The letter to your father must have detailed Tarren’s idea to go without a bodyguard, and your father took steps to send someone that he would trust, someone who could get close to him. He sent his own daughter. And so, my father told me all about you and what you are, and it looks like his fears were justified. You are unnatural.” He growled the last words.

  The labeling of Aislynn as unnatural sparked something inside of Eryk, as it echoed his own thoughts of how different she was from other ladies of rank. He clung to that, and turned on her, anger and hatred building inside of him again.

  “Branden has been trained to be my advisor, just as Collin was trained to advise my father. What he says does make sense. You did do it.” Branden was his trusted friend, after all.

  “No!” Aislynn cried out in denial, looking Eryk straight in the eye. “I couldn't do it, there’s no possible way. The pact prevents me from harming any member of the royal family of Bacovia. You could take up a dagger and try to plunge it into my heart and I would be unable to strike back against you.”

  Her voice turned very cold as she took a step toward Branden. “You, however, are not a member of the royal family. I can kill you.” And she advanced another step, drawing a dagger half from its sheath.

  Byron exploded into motion, determined to prevent another death, though he knew from his sparring matches with her that trying to take Aislynn down could possibly end his own life.

  “Stop!”

  The command from Eryk, backed as it was by the full authority of the king, her protégé, stopped Aislynn dead in her tracks. She was apparently unable to disobey a direct command too, something that she noted irritably in the back of her mind; she’d ponder that later. For now, she sheathed her dagger and looked at her king.

  “Fine,” she said. “I won’t kill him, yet, but he does deserve it.” She looked at Branden. “You have hated me more and more with each passing day. What did I ever do to you?”

  “Aside from being what you are?” Branden left it at that, clearly thinking that it was enough.

  “All of you be quiet,” Eryk commanded. “Let me think about this for a moment.”

  Aislynn and Branden stood glaring at each other, Byron wondering who was going to crack first, while Eryk thought about the situation and the silence dragged on. Just when Byron thought that he was about to burst with the need to make some noise, any no
ise, Eryk spoke.

  “I will concede that Aislynn is telling the truth and that she is not the killer. I believe that everything she said about the pact between our realms is true, especially since I can verify all of it in the historical records.” Relief flooded through Aislynn, but Eryk wasn’t done yet.

  “However,” he continued, “I also believe that there was a horrendous error made on the part of Evendell, and my father should have been the one protected. You, Aislynn, should have protected him. Failing that, you have failed in your duty as far as I am concerned. Right now, I cannot stand the sight of you, because I do consider you responsible for my father’s death. I want you out of this room immediately and I don’t want to see you ever again.” That, fortunately, was a wish and not a command.

  “But your Majesty!” Byron couldn't let that pass without comment. “How is she supposed to do her job if she can’t be near you?”

  “You and your guards will have to be enough, I suppose,” he replied quietly. Branden grinned in triumph over Eryk’s head. He had wanted Aislynn sent away, and he was getting his wish. The timing struck her as very convenient.

  Aislynn glared at Branden, her eyes shooting daggers, but she spoke to Eryk.

  “I will leave this room,” she conceded, “but I will not leave the castle or the kingdom. You are stuck with me, your Majesty, but you have given me an order and I will obey it.”

  She turned on her heel and left the room, Cheta at her side. Byron stared after her, shocked by the sudden turn of events. He had thought that when Eryk found out about Aislynn, it would settle everything, but he had been wrong, apparently.

  “I’m afraid that you are making a grave mistake, your Majesty,” he ventured, keeping his voice under control through force of will alone. “The contract is not yet complete, since you are still breathing. And you just sent away your best chance of survival. I hope you live to regret that decision, since the alternative is considerably less desirable.”

  “I guess we'll have to wait and see, won’t we?” Eryk’s voice was flat, devoid of all emotion, as the events of the morning began to settle in his mind. Over his shoulder, the sun suddenly burst out from behind the clouds, illuminating the study and the three men inside. The rain had ended, and the reign of King Eryk was just beginning.