The Assassin Recruit

A young medieval woman finds herself lured into the world of a professional assassin.

Newlyna sat in the coach, unable to stop adjusting her gloves. They had to look perfect, as did everything else. She sat in her well-made dress, which had likely taken servants days to make. She’d never worn it before, and she’d sadly be unable to wear it again. Such was the life of a diplomat. One couldn’t be spotted wearing the same outfit on two separate occasions! Each party would likely be offended, it meant that her respective visits to each was unimportant enough to warrant its own outfit. Or that was what she had been told. How one presented themselves was of utmost importance in the realm of politics, even more important than what she said. Most diplomats didn’t even really say anything of substance, but the small details of the visit was what set the tone, and communicated what needed to be said. Or requested.
She didn’t think she was ready for the political life, but that made no difference, it has been thrust upon her. As a sister of an important lord, she had duties. Duties to her house and her brother, who effectively was the house. She represented the house, and she represented him. And there were not many roles for highborn women in society except for politics and diplomacy. And keeping the household, overseeing servants and pushing out her husband’s babies. But she had no husband, her brother and father’s attempts to court her to other noble houses had not gone well. She would not make a good nobleman’s wife, that much was glaringly true. And her efforts at managing her family’s household had been a disaster. So when her brother told her he needed her to meet with his business partners, she didn’t have much recourse. She had to be useful somehow.
This merchant was a prosperous and well known one. He had a bit of a dodgy reputation, but that was what drew her brother’s interest. Saulac did business with the Noreff, while not many others did. And her brother needed Saulecs connections with them. There were reasons no one but a few did business with the Noreff, however, but her brother was increasingly desperate. And had to take desperate measures.
Their father had passed, leaving the House with much more debt than they had known. He had done too many risky business ventures, and allied himself with too many lords that were shortly thereafter disgraced. He had kept this unknown to all of them, to his wife and to his son and daughter. Only a few of those who worked for him had known. But now it was her and her brother’s problem. Aymeric had inherited all his father’s debts, even the secretive ones. And that had left the House for all practical purposes, impoverished.
This was still unknown, of course. Aymeric and Newlyna had managed to keep the extent of the debts secret. Fortunately, creditors did not talk to one another about who owed them the most coin. If they did, they would all come up with one family name in common, her own. No one knew how destitute they were…yet. Which was why they did not have much time. And needed some truly risky business ventures. Newlyna had reminded Aymeric that was how her father had gotten them into this situation. And he’d responded “Father knew that was the only way out. He owed too much coin and too many favors. The only way out is to risk going in deeper. And fortune was not with him. And that misfortune made him sick as well, his illness taking him.”
So now Lyna had to meet with this disreputable merchant, to get him to agree to help them trade with the Noreff savages. Dangerous folk, which was why they needed Saulecs caravans and mercenaries. And his questionable behavior in trade is what had kept Saulec alive and prosperous all this time. But Aymeric was too important now to meet with lowly merchants, so he sent a representative, as all highborn lords did. And Lyna should impress him more than any other of the family diplomats. Treating with a highborn woman was a distinct honor, one that few merchants would ever get. The only thing more impressive would be if Aymeric had sent a brother or a son, but he had neither.
Lyna did not know it she was made to be a diplomat, she did not have any experience with diplomacy or politics. All she knew was what her brother’s people had hurriedly taught her, just before she’d left. Her father had been a country lord, so she‘d been isolated from other highborn out on their secluded manor. Those she did see were from lesser houses that existed nearby. All her friends were like her, highborn but country folk that would seem much out of place in a city, or a high noble court. She tried to remember all the things her instructors had told her, but she was finding the memories were fleeing her mind.
She had never seen a city before, but she was in a large one now. Asmelsynia sat out on the far plains, the last big city one would encounter before reaching the Wastes. The city was perched on a river that wound its way from the coast, cutting through the fertile agricultural plains before narrowing and veering out into the wasteland. She shuddered at the thought of the Wastes. Those lands were a few days travel away, and where the Noreff and other dangerous groups lived. They were more like tribes out there, living in huts made of animal skin, and moving from time to time. And fighting each other. Raids and battles were constant. Not an easy place to do business, but the rewards were substantial if one succeeded. If one succeeded. And one rarely did.
She felt anxious, as she pulled back the curtain and peered at the city. She was on the main boulevard, lined with impressively constructed shops and walkways with equally impressively dressed people. She would fit in well with the garment she was wearing. Though it would seem a shame to get the filth of the street on it. Which was why she was protected in the carriage, like the other highborn. Hers wasn’t the only coach on the thoroughfare, she spotted some ahead and behind. But most of the traffic was carts and some modest carriages. All levels of society came this way through the city, nobles and peasants alike.
The anxiousness did not go away, and she adjusted her light covered silk gloves yet again. They were a cream colored beige, with small dark colored gems inlaid. The rest of her dress was a fluffy thing, dark green with white lace. She seemed silly wearing it, but it was the uniform of diplomacy.
She went from adjusting her gloves and dress to fingering the hilt of the small ceremonial knife that she kept under her dress, tucked in her undergarments. The hilt was gold, studded with gems, and the blade was high quality silver, that had been mixed with another unknown alloy that made it stronger than even steel. It had been a gift when she was a child, a trinket like the many others she’d collected in her lifetime. Her aunt had given it to her, found in the leftover valuables of her own mother, Lyna’s maternal grandmother after her passing. The hilt was beautiful, carved with runes and the gems were a dark red, matching Lyna’s hair. The blade was slightly longer than a finger, and almost as wide as two. The decorative hilt was as short as the blade, making it perfect small keepsake to keep on oneself. Which Lyna did, for luck. She’s need all the luck she could get. Which was why she absently fingered the hilt now, feeling the carvings and gems with her fingers.
The coach turned off the road, down a wide side street and then turned again and went up a hill. She was in the more affluent part of the city, where the wealthy dwelt. The coach rolled past open gates, designed to keep the less desirables out of such a high class part of the city. Guards walked along the streets, and everyone she saw was exceptionally well dressed, only nobility or the highly wealthy were permitted in this place. Rich merchants kept their homes here, and highborn kept homes here when they stayed in the city. If she hadn’t been in a coach, she’d have been stopped. And if she been wearing what she usually wore, speaking as she usually spoke, they never would have let her in. Which was part of the unspoken diplomacy, she remembered learning. Simply presenting oneself correctly could get you into certain places, places she’d otherwise never had been able to get in. It was all a charade, of course. She was truly just as poor as the workers and farmers who trudged on the main thoroughfare. It was just that no one knew that yet.
The coach came to a halt, and the driver got down and opened the door for her. She emerged, out into the fading sunlight. It was late in the day, but Saurec had insisted she come at this time. He was a busy man apparently. She found she was as the base of the stairs of a large house made of beige colored stone. It was not as big as her own, of course, but it was large compared to ones in the main part of town. But it fit in with the rest of the houses on the row, and each had a stone wall twice a man’s height. The house was two stories, with three rows of windows on each side, with hedges surrounding the building. In the middle was a covered patio, at the top of two dozen or so steps with two large doors in the center. At the bottom of the steps stood a slender, well dressed man, who worn and scarred face did not match his aristocratic clothes. Guards stood at the entrance, two pairs flanking the man at the base, and two more pairs at the top of the steps.
“Greetings, Lady Norwood,” he announced, “I am Heesh, steward of your host, the esteemed Saulec.”
“Greetings, Heesh,” Lyna said, “It is a pleasure.” They used her house name, as since her brother was not married, and her mother was passed, she was the ‘woman’ of the house. Just as each house had a Lord, it had a Lady. Though if she wasn’t the ‘Lady’ of the house, she’s simply be Lady Newlyna, with the term a courtesy title.
“If you will come with me, I will take you to your host,” he said.
She followed him inside, and through the house. She was surprised to see so many soldiers. Not all were dressed as guards, but all were in a simple uniform. And each uniform looked well used, with rips, stains and slashes. Obviously the man did not pay for crisp outerwear for his soldiers. And he had no many.
“Does his Excellency not have a barracks for soldiers?” she asked the steward, unable to contain her curiosity.
“His Excellency does not have servants,” the steward explained, “As he does not trust them. He keeps his mercenaries here, and it is part of their duties to maintain the house. Just like a military camp. And each new recruit is strongly vetted before joining, to be completely sure of their utmost loyalty.”
“Is he that afraid of thieves?” she asked.
“Assassins,” he retorted, “His Excellency has many enemies, and many who would like him dead.”
Lyna could understand that, the man had a reputation, after all. If any part of it was true, he’s have many, many enemies by now. She suspected her brother was truly desperate, or a fool, to trust him not to cheat him.
After going up some stairs, and along a corridor, they came to a room at the end of the hall. A guard opened the door, and the steward led her in. “His Excellency, the great merchant Saurec,” he announced.
There was a squat, ugly man sitting behind a desk, framed by a pair of windows. He was stringing a crossbow and did not look up for a moment. When he finished, he did not look at Lyna, only handed the crossbow to a guard, who set it against the wall. Only then did he look at her, moving his eyes up and down her dress.
“Ah, the Lady Norwood,” he said happily, “Please have a seat.”
There were two chairs in front of the desk, and she sat in one. The steward Heesh sat in the other. The merchant sat back in his chair and faced them. The guards exited the room, so it was only the three of them. “So your brother would like to do business with me?” the man asked in a rough, gravelly voice.
“Very much so, Your Excellency,” Lyna said formally. The negotiations had begun.
The next hour or so went as she’d expected. And trained for. She negotiated the way she was taught, asking for the things her brother wanted, and affirming or denying the man’s questions. Then they made small talk, and then negotiated some more. They spent more time idly talking than negotiating, but that was the way of these things, she knew. The steward remained mostly quiet, only answering the man’s questions about specific details of his business. By the time they had reached an arrangement, the sun had gone down.
The details were quite generous, her brother would be doing very well in this, she realized. She didn’t think her negotiating skills were that good. His steward wrote everything down, and when it was done, had a contract on the man’s desk. “Excellent,” Saurec said, sitting back in his chair, which creaked under his weight.
“Heesh, you can go get my seal,” he said. The steward got up, bowed, and left the room, closing the door behind him. Saurec stood up. “Now that we have that finished, before I sign, we can work out the last part.”
“And what would that be?” Lyna asked, surprised that there was anything else. She thought they were done.
He walked around the desk, out to behind the chairs. Not comfortable with him behind her back, she stood and turned to face him. He had a twisted smile, looking her up and down.
“The last part is…” he said, menace coming into his voice, “Is the Dance of Darkness.”
“What!? How inappropriate!” she said disgustingly. “Surely you don’t mean that!”
The gross man laughed, “Oh, I do. It is part of the negotiations, I’m afraid. I get you as a lover for the night.”
“That will not happen,” she snorted, “There is no deal.”
“That part isn’t negotiable,” he said, “It isn’t a condition of the contract. It is a condition of you leaving.”
She backed away from him, moving away from the desk until she was against the wall. He slowly stepped toward her. She felt her blood run cold, as panic overwhelmed her.
“No,” she said, “I will not. Get away from me!”
He came up to her, and reached for her. She darted away, her dress ripping as he took hold of it. He lost his hold, and she ran to the door. She flung it open, to see the steward standing there, looking bored. Behind him were two guards, standing against the wall of the hallway. They looked at her blankly, and made no moves to get out of her way. She backed away from the door, and the steward reached out and pulled it closed.
She was along with him again, as he walked toward her. “My men aren’t going to let you leave. And hope that it’s only for the next few nights. I might decide to keep you, you look like a lively one.”
He grabbed her arm, and she sprang away, ripping the sleeve of her dress. She faced him, as he stood there holding the detached sleeve. “If I have to, I’ll have Heesh come back in here and hold that crossbow to you. If you resist, he’ll shoot you. If you squeal wrong, he’ll shoot you. And I’ll finish my work with you bleeding out. It wouldn’t be the first dead girl I’ve done the Dance of Darkness with. I would miss you tomorrow, however.”
“I don’t expect dead girls make good dancing partners.” She said. She backed up as he advanced, until she was against the wall. As she backed into it, she heard a light thump, as the hard hilt of her jeweled knife tapped through the fabric against the wall. Her dress was askew, so it was positioned at her back now. She’d forgotten all about it. She reached down, and felt it though her dress. Saurec reached her, and reached out and ripped her skirt from her front, revealing the top of her undergarments. She reached down and grabbed the back of her skirt and pulled, ripping it there, too. And she pushed her knee up, hitting him in the stomach. He grunted and she pushed him away, and reached through the rip in the back, and took hold of the knife hilt. As he moved back toward her, she pulled out the knife, removed the sheath, and held it up in front of her.
He laughed, “What are you going to do with that?”
She darted to the side, taking quick sure steps until she was in the middle of the room, with him between her and the wall. She held the knife up in front of her, it’s silver blade catching the light.
“You should drop that,” he said menacingly, “Or I’ll call my steward. He really will hold that crossbow on you.”
Anger rose up inside her, all she could feel was hatred. There was no fear, she kept herself focused on him. He did not seem alarmed at all. He opened with mouth, to call for help. And in that instant, Lyna lunged at him. She hit into him with her shoulder, putting him off balance, and jamming the knife into his gut. He collapsed backward, letting out a yell which cut off into a gasp. He slammed into the wall, and she landed on her knee with one leg bent. She heard the door open behind her, and did not move. She turned her head, to see the steward had entered, but he could only see her back and his boss against the wall, she was blocking view of the wound. Red was spreading across his white shirt. Heesh closed the door behind him and stepped in.
“You need that box, don’t you? I knew she’s be a rough one.”
The knife was in her hand, so she slowly stood, spun, and lunged for the unsuspecting steward. He gasped when he saw his boss bleeding, and only looked at Lyna just as she reached him, slashing the knife across his throat.
He grunted, and stepped back, and but his hands on his neck, where blood was trailing out in lines. Not a deep enough cut, she told herself. She jumped at him again, slashing with the knife, removing the tips of his fingers. He screamed, as she stepped up to him closely, pressing the knife hard into his neck. Opening a wide and deep gash, with dark red blood pouring out. He fell, his eyes rolling back in his head. He hit the ground with a thump.
The door opened again, and she was quick this time. She wasn’t thinking, only acting on instinct. It was kill or be killed, as a soldier would do. She’d never been in a fight, and definitely never killed anyone. But she had to fight for her life, she didn’t have time to think, she only had time to act.
The first guard threw himself in to the room, and she threw herself at him, jamming the knife hard into his chest. The durable metal blade broke through his chain mail and slipped past his ribs, and he went limp instantly. She jumped back, as the second guard sprang into the room. This one was ready, drawing his sword and leveling it at her. He looked around the room, then at her. “Soujash!” he uttered. He stepped from side to side, holding the sword straight out at her, waiting for her to strike. She kept her gaze into his eyes, as he stared intently into hers. She was holding the knife out in front of her, but it was no match for the sword, he’d slice through her well before the knife would be close enough. And she would need to be extremely close to be able to use the knife, and that wasn’t possible now. He was hesitating to strike for some reason, as if he expected more than some scared girl with a pretty knife. But she knew once he did attack, she’d be dead. She did a quick look from side to side, then back at him. He slowly stepped toward her. She did not have much time.
She dropped the knife, and jumped backward, hitting the wall. He moved toward her, bracing to stab through her. She reached down and grabbed the crossbow, and raised it just as he was within a pace. She pulled the trigger, and the bolt loosed with a twang, embedding itself into the stunned man’s chest. He stood there a moment, and then fell to the ground, still clutching the sword. She stepped over him, dropping the crossbow, and retrieved her knife. When she looked back, he was dead. As was the other guard. And the steward had a pool of blood around his lifeless body. She looked back at Saulec, who was watching while clutching his bleeding stomach. She did not know much of anatomy, but from her limited ready of battles, that was a slow wound to die from. More than long enough for him to tell what he’d seen. So she knelt down next to him, took the knife, and raised it above his chest, aiming for his heart.
“Soujash.” he grunted, “You are Soujash!”
She slowly slid the knife into his heart. He gasped one last time, and went limp. Now that he was dead, she was the only one living in the room. She stood and backed away, looking around at the devastation. Lots of bodies, and lots of blood. Lots of blood on her, on her hands, arms, face, her ripped dress, everywhere.
With the immediate threat gone, as she looked around, an overwhelming feeling of horror set in. Her body went numb, as she suppressed an urge to scream. She had just murdered four people!
Lyna went to the window, and pushed it open. A cool breeze came in front the night outside. She looked down, she was on the second floor. There was no sign of guards on this side of the building. The window was her only way out, she couldn’t just walk out as if nothing had happened. So many soldiers…trained to kill much better than she was. She hadn’t been trained at all, she was no soldier, she had just gone by instinct.
She looked around the room, finding not much to help her. There was a cloak, which she hurriedly put on. There was a bag of silver coins which she took. And there was the contract on the desk, which she took, intending to burn. She gathered up the pieces of her dress as well. She did not want to leave anything behind tying her to this place. But she was sure they would be able to figure it out. Which caused another wave of panic. I can’t worry about that now. I just need out of here! If she could get out of the city fast enough, maybe she could avoid the hanging that was the penalty for murder. Most likely, the mercenaries would track her down first. She didn’t want to think about that. Lots of dancing, to be sure. She found herself chuckling. A dance did happen, just not the kind they were hoping for. A different kind of dance. One where she’d been lucky enough to be victorious.
The window was high up, but she surmised she could make it. She’d jumped from dangerous heights playing as a child, getting rebuked but never injured. Hopefully she still had those strong bones. She sat out on the windowsill, swinging her legs over so they were hanging out. She pushed her feet against the wall as her butt slid off. She sailed through the air, and landed on the soft grass below, bending her legs as she hit, bracing herself from the impact, just as she’d done as a young girl. She was out on the dark grounds, free from the house, but it was only a matter of time before the bodies were discovered.
She ran, keeping the dark cloak wrapped around her, along the wall that separated the lot from the lot next to it, with its own looming house. She reached the front wall, the corner where the walls met. Another thing she’d done as a child. The walls were too sheer to climb for most it’s length, but at the corner she could press her back against one wall, and use footholds and handholds in the stone to push herself up. She did that, reaching the top. Then she hopped down, bending her knees as she hit again. Then she casually began walking along the deserted street. Walls lined the walkway, with imposing houses on the other side, as she descended the hill. When she reached the gate, separating this neighborhood from the others, she was relieved to find that it was open. Perhaps it was too early to close it, she thought, or it never closed and was just for show. It didn’t matter, it didn’t stop the night’s murderer from leaving. She walked right through, without even a glance from a guard. She had the hood of the cloak up and it held tightly around her, they likely couldn’t even tell she was a woman. They likely assumed she was some illicit business person, helping some rich person perform some disreputable activities. Which she was sure happened quite often here. The rich were frequently corrupt.

After a long walk into the main part of the city, she found herself in the seedier part of town. She came along a horse through, which she had used to clean herself off some. She had been walking for hours, it seemed. She spotted an inn, and decided to hide out for the night. It was not very busy that night, and seemed an out of the way place for less prosperous travelers. She went into the common room, which served as a tavern, and took a seat at the bar. After tonight, she needed a drink for her nerves. So she asked the barman for an ale. Which she downed most of immediately.
“What is a quick way out of town?” she asked the barman, sliding a silver along the bar.
“Carriages leave tomorrow, if you can afford it,” he said, “Or you could buy a horse if you had enough silver.”
“What if I needed to leave earlier than tomorrow morning?” she asked, “What if I needed to leave now?”
“Do you have some kind of trouble after you?” he asked. She thought it odd stranger would show concern.
“No, just curious.” She said. Then she thought of something else she was curious about.
“I was wondering, have you ever heard of ‘soujash’?”
The color drained from the man’s face, “No, I have never heard of such a thing,” he answered quickly.
His posture was suddenly stiff, and he seemed uncomfortable, clearly very nervous, and her curiosity got that much stronger. She reached into her pouch, the one she’d brought from home, and pulled out two gold coins.
“I might have mispronounced it,” she said quietly. “I believe the term is ‘soujash’.”
“I do not know of what you speak, young lady.” With that, he took the gold from the counter, turned his back and stepped away. Disappointed, Lyna finished her ale, and never saw the man return. He’d taken her coin, but that didn’t matter. She’d be hanged by the end of the day tomorrow for sure. She didn’t need gold then.

Unable to find a quick way out of the city, she decided leaving at night would be suspicious, so she’d mingle in with the crowds tomorrow. She found a different barkeep, and offered silver for a room. She was led up the stairs, and shown the room. The bed was stiff and creaky, but she was lucky to have a room with a bed in a place like this. Fortunately she had coin. Her own, and what she had stolen from those she had killed.
Once alone in the room, she dared to remove the cloak. The dress was obviously ruined, torn in some revealing place and barely hanging on. One shoulder was exposed, the arm lacking a sleeve, and the skirt was half hanging off. The back was almost gone, and her midsection was exposed. And the front side was covered in blood. A thick, dark stain. There were splotches of blood everywhere else it seemed, too. She could definitely not wear this out. It was obvious it had been worn while killing someone. More than one. She pulled the dress off, ripping it some more, and tossed it onto the ground. She had other clothes, but they were in her trunk at her original inn, which she could not go to. That would be the first place they would look for her. They could have been waiting there for her now, ready to grab her as she returned. So she would have to buy some new clothes.
She got the last of the dress off herself, and stood there in her undergarments. She reached back and felt the knife, being held securely in its sheath, pressed against her skin. She took it out and placed it under the pillow. She removed her corset, letting her breasts feel the cool air. And she slipped the bottom garment off as well, which also had been tightly around her all day. Now nude, she felt a measure of relief. She slipped into bed, and sleep found her quickly. It has been an exhausting day.

She was awakened by candlelight. She sat up, and opened her eyes, remembering where she was. And almost shrieked. A man was standing in her room, having finished lighting the candles in the room.
“Do not fear, young lady,” he said gently. Lyna sat up, grabbed the knife from under her pillow, and unsheathed it, holding it out in front of her. The man only laughed. “I am not here to harm you. I am here regarding your request. Though I do apologize for the hour, your request sounded urgent.”
“Request? I have not made any request,” she said.
“You inquired with the barman downstairs. He said you seemed to be in some difficulty.” He tossed her two gold coins, the ones from earlier. She caught them in her free hand.
“Are you Soujash?” she asked.
“I am. Our guild goes by many names, and that is one of them.”
“Your guild…what does it do?”
He looked taken aback, “You do not know what services we offer?”
“I heard the name from a dying man’s lips, and wanted to know what they meant.”
He crossed his arms, still standing across the room, as if amused by the encounter. He smiled at her. She realized her chest was exposed, but she did not care. It did not seem important at the moment.
He spoke, “Soujash is the guild of assassins.”
“Assassins? You mean you kill people?”
“I do not,” he said, “I only communicate with prospective patrons. And we provide many services. We can find things out for you, gather information on your enemies…or your friends if you wish. And if the need arises, we can eliminate them. We help people like you with their problems, if you can afford us. And you seem someone that can afford us. You are a noblewoman, or someone of wealth, are you not?”
As he spoke, he gathered her undergarments off the floor, tossing them to her. She put on the corset and the bottom as she listened. Then once dressed, she got out of the bed, grabbed the cloak and wrapped it around herself, and she spoke.
“I am a noblewoman,” she said, “And I do have coin. And I need protection.”
“We can provide it. We can fool your enemies, we can threaten them, or we can kill them.”
“So you just murder people, and don’t have legal issues with it? You don’t look poorly on murderers?”
“Our activities are very illegal, many of our weapons and methods are banned. But we bribe local lawmen and leaders to ignore our activities. And those that aren’t corrupt enough to take our money…fear us. We operate outside the law, and are too powerful and large to be constrained by such things.”
“So you keep murderers safe?” she asked, feeling hopeful.
“We do. Tell us whom you would like…murdered…as you call it, and we will act. With enough coin.”
“My problem is not lack of murders, it’s too many.”
“I am afraid I do not understand.”
“I killed an important man tonight. He wanted me to do the dark dance with him, and refused to let me leave if I did not. He implied I would be kept there and forced to bed him until he tired of me. He tried to fight me, I fought back. And I stabbed him. Then his steward and a couple guards came in and I killed them too.”
The man did not seem shocked by her admission. He said, “I can help you. Who was this man?”
“Saurec the merchant. He lives in the wealthy part of the city, on the hill.”
“I have not heard of this man, as there are many merchants in the city. If he is wealthy he much be dangerous.”
“He had soldiers, lots of soldiers,” Lyna told him, “And they are no doubt searching the city for me now.”
“You must come with me,” the man said, “And we must be fast.”
With that, she gathered her things and they hurriedly left the room and the inn.

They hurried down the dark street, a side street off the main one. Tall, narrow buildings lined the narrow street, home and shops that were dark at the late hour. It was approaching midnight. They came to one house, and Ivar tossed a rock at a window on the third floor. Then another, making a light tapping noise. A figure of a man appeared, then retreated. And Ivar went up to the door. Lyda followed. After a moment, the door opened, and the man poked his head out. “I have a prospective patron here, with a bit of a problem.” Ivar told him. He kept the same kindly and respectful demeanor that he’d had in her room at the inn, but there was a bit of reverence as well. This man was a superior, she concluded.
He beckoned them in, and the pair were soon inside, away from the street and the night air. The man was an older, heavyset man with a pudgy face, and Ivar whispered to him. When he was done, the man asked, “Well it seems you have had an exciting night. What can we do for you, madam?”
“I fear that I need protection” she stated. “I inadvertently killed a man…four men. And I fear retribution.”
“I assume that retribution would be from this man’s allies, or the law,” he said, “I am Ulaf.”
“Both. I am willing to pay gold. I am highborn, but not extremely wealthy. But I do have some coin.”
Some boys appeared in the room, young adolescents by the look of them.
Ulaf instructed them to send some messages, but she couldn’t hear all that was said. The boys ran off, out the door and into the street. Ivar departed as well. Then he returned to her. “Who have you killed?”
“The merchant Saurec.”
“I know of this man. You have done the world a favor, if his reputation is half true.”
“It is definitely true, maybe even worse,” she said.
“Tell me everything. I will help you. But I would like to know how a pretty young thing like you managed to kill a well-protected merchant in his home, as well as his steward and two of his best guards.”
“Mostly surprise. And This.” She took out the knife, and handed it to him.
He examined it, looking from end to end, taking it out of the metal sheath, and inspecting the blade.
She recounted the story of the night, going into detail about every move she’d made and everything her adversaries had done. She did not know if it would be helpful, but she didn’t want anything being missed.
“How did you come upon this” he asked when she finished, holding up the blade.
“It was a gift from a family member,” she said, “a family heirloom. I keep it for luck.”
“Well it provided you with quite a bit of luck tonight. Most decorative blades would have snapped. And they certainly would not have been sharp. This is a strong blade, dressed to look like a trinket.”
“It was my grandmother’s,” Lyna told him, “And she got it from another family member. It’s been in my mother’s family for at least a hundred years.”
“It is one of ours,” the man said.
“What?”
“This etching,” he pointed to the designs on the hilt, “This is supposed to appear decorative, but hidden here is a symbol of ours. This knife is very high quality, as well. Something we would use. Something we have used.”
“Are you saying it is an assassin’s blade? Someone from my family unknowingly bought such a thing?”
“It is an assassin’s blade, and it’s been used, long before tonight. But these blades do not get bought and sold. They get returned to the guild, or passed down through the family. No one who knows anything about us would ever buy or sell such a thing. Untrained eyes think it a trinket, but it is far from that.”
“How did my family get it then?” she asked, dumbstruck.
“They got it from us. One of your family was a member of our guild, it would seem. An assassin.”
“Impossible!” She blurted out.
“There’s one way to know. Were you injured?”
She hesitated, then remembered a cut she’d given herself on her arm, swinging for an adversary.
“Yes.” She raised her arm, revealing the cut. He took a finger and pressed, causing a drop of blood to appear. He smeared it on his finger, then smeared it on the gems on the hilt. The gems started to glow, a faint red color.
“Yes, these are bloodstones. They ‘remember’ blood from previous owners. And since you have your ancestor’s blood in your veins, it would know yours. It wouldn’t glow from anyone else.”
“So someone from my family was an assassin?”
“Yes. I’d say more than one. But not more than two or three, I’ll have to check our records. This was used separate times for different generations, I am sure of that. That isn’t unusual, we have families that have been with us for several generations. It would also explain your instincts. You knew what moves to make without thinking, you did not panic, you just acted. Those are very good instincts to have in our line of work. And in most cases fatal not to have them. Those instincts are also passed down through families, like any other trait. Your red hair, your appearance, all these are passed down through blood, as well as intelligence, demeanor, and other things, such as instincts. Animals are known to pass them down, it is how such unintelligent creatures can survive. They intuitively know how to fight, how to kill, and how to hide. Just as you do.”
With that, there was noise from the front, as people entered the house. Three men entered the parlor where they were standing, and he took them aside and spoke to them quietly. Lyna could not hear them. After several minutes, the men departed, back out onto the street. And Ulaf rejoined her. He sat in a padded chair, and motioned for her to sit as well. She sat in one across from him.
“I have sent some of my associates, guild members, out to clean up your mess. They will bribe the right people and question others. The coachman who brought you, the people at your inn that you left this morning, and the mercenaries at the house will all be spoke to. The officials will be given a story, and if they chose not to believe it, they will be bribed. No one saw you today. You were not at the house, you did not meet with Saurec.”
“How can you prove that? All it takes is one to recognize me.”
“They will be dealt with. Threatened or bribed, they will be silent. The truth is, you were kidnapped this morning, on your way to the meeting, by one of our operatives. They tied you up, blindfolded you and gave you something to drink that knocked you out. You awoke this evening, to find your bonds gone. So you stumbled to the inn, and asked about the group responsible for your kidnapping. For while you were a captive, our operative impersonated you, went to the meeting, and killed the merchant and his men. Then went back and freed you while you were unconscious. That is the story the lawmen will be told, as well as the mercenaries.”
“But they saw my face,” she interjected.
“They will assume that was the face of the operative. Unless you plan to be having mercenaries around your estates for whatever reason. Anyway, faces are easy to forget. They could not sketch your face from memory, or point you out in a crowd. These aren’t scholars after all, renowned for their intelligence.”
“And this will work?”
“It has worked many times in the past. No one will seek retribution from us, that is a sure way to death...for anyone. No one ever moves against us. Not lords, not kings. Our name is feared. Everywhere.”
“Thank you,” she said, “This will solve all my problems. But the expense…I believe I can pay you.”
“That will not be necessary. Your merchant had quite a few contracts out on him. We’ve had many requests to kill him. By many different people, offering substantial amounts of coin. Which is why it will be so believable that it was us that did it. He was difficult to get to, impossible actually. None of our operatives were able to get anywhere close. He had a small army protecting him. And he was a low priority, he was not much of a threat to anyone, he just cheated people. So none of our guild members took the contracts. But now, we can collect.”
“And kept women prisoner against their will,” Lyna added.
“Sadly,” Ulaf said, “That was not done so much without permission. He did not keep anyone randomly. Only those he was promised. Not from the women, but from whomever sent them.”
“Are you saying my brother sent me in there, knowing what I’d be kept for?”
“I do not know. I only know what our research says. And that was how he did things.”
Lyna felt intense anger. Had her brother betrayed her? Had he put her into this situation? She did not want to consider that. She had enough to worry about now.
“There is one other detail,” Ulaf added.
“And what is that?”
“The things we are doing for you…they are not easy, and they are not services we typically provide the general public. We are not the constabulary. We do not work on the whims of the nobility or even royalty.”
“I can pay you. I have gold. As I said, my family is not as rich as it once was, but I can pay.”
“We do not want your coin. We truly owe you coin, for the contracts that you fulfilled on Saurec. We will take the bribe money and other expenses out of it, but the remaining money is yours. Plus whatever you stole from him. We are not thieves, but it is not uncommon to take some things for personal keeping.”
“Oh, very well then,” she said, “Then what do I owe you for all of this.”
“It is not what you owe us,” he said, “But we are a guild of assassins. And we do not like competition. And we do not care for independent assassins coming to us seeking help. Our guild exists for members to help each other.”
“I…I do not follow,” Lyna said, confused.
“We prefer that an assassin who works independently would join us and do their work as a member.”
“I understand that, but what does that have to do with me?”
“You are an assassin. We would like for a young assassin such as yourself to join us. We’ve provided our help out of goodwill, in the hopes that you would join us and offer us your services.”
“Services? I am not an assassin! That’s why I came to you for help!”
“You assassinated someone today. You did an assassin’s work. Whether you ever chose to kill again or not, you still are what you are. You will always be a murderer. And we can’t have you just killing people on your own.”
“I’m not going to do it again,” she said, “I was in a situation where I had to. It was self defense.”
“People kill in defense all the time. Most killing is in defense. To defend their lives, to defend their families, to defend their livelihood, to defend their honor, to defend their friends, or to defend those who pay them.”
“I’m not a killer…besides tonight,” she blurted, “I’m definitely not going to put myself in a situation…”
“People find themselves in situations not of their own making all the time. And the best way out, they will take. You will come to these situations again. And you’ll know what the darkest option is. You’ll remember how easy it was, to take those lives, and you will know how easy it would be to do it again.”
“It wasn’t easy,” she said, “That fight was hard!”
“Yes, but you’re not exactly grappling with the wrongness of it. You don’t feel guilty. You will, but you’ll quickly get over it. You’re only concern was any legal issues that would arise. Or retribution. No part of your morla code was broken. It was physically difficult, but your mind has accepted the act.”
“I’m still not going to assassinate anyone again,” she said sternly.
“And why not? It’s an option in your mind now, while it never was before. You’ve already done it once, you won’t see much reason to not do it again, if the need arises. There will be times, I am certain, that discreetly killing someone is your best option. And you will see no reason not to do it. You will do it. You never stop being what you’ve become. Not in your mind. You may pretend, but there is no going back. And the guild can benefit you, in your work. You can train and learn from others, work with others of the same…interests as yourself.”
“You want me to join you? To kill for you?”
“We have members that are not active. Some join and rarely work, some never kill at all. We have couriers, law experts, spies, those who negotiate…so many people supporting us. But you showed much skill in your actions this evening. With no training, you survived a deadly situation. We want you to work for us. With us.”
“Become a guild member?” she said idly, deep in thought.
“You are already a killer. And you have an aptitude for it. And after the help we did for you tonight…You are in our debt. Or you can be not, if you chose, we haven’t finished the night’s work yet.”
“You’ll call your men back if I don’t join, won’t you?” she asked.
“I did not say that, Ulaf stated, “But if you chose to remain independent, we don’t have much reason to help you. As I said, the guild only protects guild members, not those who work outside of it.”
Lyna was silent for a moment, and then let out a sigh of defeat. “Very well. I will join you.”
“Excellent. We will continue to help you, then. We even have some connections that can help with your brothers business problems. Our merchants are much more secretive, but much more honest.”
He stood up, and rang a bell. A servant came to the doorway.
“Help Lady Norwood to the rooms prepared for her. As a member, she has rights to a room here.”
“I will be able to leave tomorrow,” Lyna said.
“Oh, about that,” he said, “You will need a few days of training before we can let you out into the world. You’re good, but much too clumsy to be working under our name.”
“I understand,” she said, “I will stay until my training is complete.”
“Excellent. By the time you wake tomorrow, we’ll have gathered your things you traveled with and have them in your room. If you wish, you can write to your brother telling him you are delayed.”
With that, he turned back to the servant, “You may take her to her room.”
And Lyna followed, embarking on a new stage in her life. Things were different now, much different.

Lyna did not stay for days, she stayed for weeks. She trained, she learned, she made friends, and she enjoyed her time there. She did not kill anyone else in her time there, but she learned swordplay, with a short sword not much longer than her forearm. She learned knives, she learned various banned weapons, unarmed combat, and combat with any type object used as a weapon. Anything could be used as a weapon, she found. She just had to see it first. Which was another thing she learned, keen observational skills. She would have to know how to spy. And act in an instant, if the situation suddenly changed. She learned how to lie effectively, and how to detect lies. She learned how to find someone’s mood and even determine their thoughts. She learned poisons and herbs, and even some healing. She became outright deadly. She wasn’t the best, of course, nor was she expected to ever be one of the better members of the guild. But she was good enough. She was effective.

Lyna reached home, and stepped out of the carriage. Her brother was there to meet her.
“I trust you enjoyed your holiday, Newlyna.” he said.
“Very much so, Aymeric,” she responded. She wasn’t wearing a fancy dress, just the typical clothes nobles wore to be comfortable when they were alone. She didn’t feel the need to look fancy while traveling.
They walked side by side up the stairs, and into the house. They were followed by his steward, and she turned and told him to bring the small box that was inside the carriage and to follow them. The other servants began unloading her things. Aymeric spoke as they walked the familiar corridors of home, “I am puzzled why you chose to stay for so long in a strange city. Surely there are nicer places to stay.”
“There are.” She said, “But I needed to recuperate after…an unfortunate incident.”
“So you were the one,” he said, “I suspected as much. It seems fitting you would be the noblewoman who was abducted and impersonated by that dreadful assassin. Just when I was hoping to get some business done, and the merchant dies.” It hadn’t been public knowledge that she had been the ‘victim’ in that ruse, Lyna knew, but it would be easy to determine. And those rumor would no doubt have reached Aymeric.
“It was uncomfortable,” she said, “Tied to a chair and left in an old empty building. But they came and released me, after they had done their terrible acts. Have you heard of the Soujash?”
“No, what is it?” he asked. Genuine, too, she realized. He’d never heard of the assassins guild.
“The rouges that killed your merchant. The call themselves that. I have no idea what it means.”
They reached his study, which had been their father’s not long before. He sat down behind the desk, and she sat in the chair in front. The steward entered, carrying the heavy wooden box.
“Set that on the desk there,” she pointed, and the box was set down. Other servants entered.
“You will all leave,” she commanded, looking at each one of them. Then back at her brother. He nodded, and the servants and the steward left the room. She listened for thie rretreating footsteps, counting to be sure they all well out of hearing range. Then she confronted her brother. “You knew,” she said accusingly.
“Knew what, my dear?” he said innocently.
“I wasn’t sent to negotiate,” she said icily, “I was sent as the bribe. He was going to keep me as a concubine!”
He looked startled, and she knew the truth. She hadn’t been certain, but now she was.
“Why would you accuse me of planning that?” he said defensively, “And you never made it to the mansion.”
She smiled, her best cold smile, which she had practiced, “But I did make it to the mansion. There was no kidnapping. I was the one who killed him, when he attempted to…take his bribe.”
“That is ludicrous!” he said in fake indignation.
She casually took out the gemmed knife, in its gemmed sheath. “I killed him with this, when he tried to force himself on me. He never got it, he only got this in his belly. Open that box.”
Without looking away from her, he rose and opened the box. And when he did look, he was startled to find it full of silver and gold coins. “My word! How…”
“Some of it was your merchant friend’s, some of it was the payment for killing him. He had many enemies, ones that he swindled just as he was working to swindle you. They were willing to part with quite a bit of coin to see him dead. They just couldn’t get in to get to him. Which I did.”
“You killed him?” he collapsed back into his chair, shock still on his face.
“Yes,” she said, “And this coin will go a long way to get those creditors off your back. It is not nearly enough to pay them off, but we can give them something to satisfy them for now. To give us some time.”
“Yes, he said, staring at the box and its shiny contents.”
“There is only one problem that I see,” she said.
“And what is that?”
“The money is mine, not yours. And I am not going to just give it to you.”
He looked at her, “What?” he asked sharply.
“I will hand it to you, but only for my share of the family estates.”
“What do you mean? He asked, clearly confused.
“You inherited the house, lands and every part of the family wealth from father. But I want half.”
“I can’t give you half!” he said, “You’re a woman!”
“Women can own property,” she said, “We can inherit it from our fathers if there are no sons. We can inherit from our husbands if there are no children, and we can buy it outright if we have the money. We just can’t inherit a share of it if there’s a son. But since I’m still in this family, and intend to stay, I want a half share of everything. And since I’m going to be putting in much of the work to get us solvent again, I should get a share for that reason as well.”
“Impossible!”
“Very well,” she said, standing up and closing the lid on the box. She picked it up, glad for the strength she’d developed while training. “Wait,” he said, “Perhaps we can come to an agreement.”
“We will,” she said, “And it will be put in writing. Half of everything will be mine. Don’t worry, it will stay in the family. You’re firstborn son will inherit my share just as he will inherit your share. My future children won’t get my share. But I’ll have just as much rights and decision power as you.”
She could tell he did not like that idea, but his looks toward the coin box told her that he did not like the other option, either. Finally, he said, defeated, “Very well. We will be partners.”
Later that night, the legal documents were signed and half the mansion and everything else was hers. Aymeric had the box put away for safekeeping, not happy with the arrangement. She was glad. “I’d have hated to have to kill him,” she said when the room was empty. He had betrayed her, and she could never trust him again, but now she had something few women had…actual power.

Months later Newlyna and Aymeric had accompanied each other to a small social gathering. The home was one of the creditors they owed money to. The lord of the manor, Elyses, was insistent on getting the money he was owed, and was not willing to give them any leeway at all. He wanted his coin, and he wanted it now. So they agreed to meet with him, in hopes to work something out.
They met with their host and his lovely wife, and joined them for dinner. Afterwards, they relaxed in the study, in front of a fire in a hearth as tall as a man. It warmed the room nicely. It was an amiable chat, and no one brought up business. As the hours got late, his wife excused himself. Elyses and his wife were in their forties, and he was a well off lord in the region. He lived off the income from his hands, and like many lords, did not invest in business. Their own family had once been the same, until their father decided to take some risks. And in those risks, he borrowed money from Elyses. And when that venture failed, he promised to pay. But that was years ago, and the debt was still there. And Elyses was insisting on repayment. And it was not a small amount. They could not afford all that he wanted, and he was owed the most of their creditors.
When the talk of business did come up, Aymeric and he did the talking. Lyna contented herself to listen. Her brother made vague promises, and Elyses kept his friendly demeanor, though seemed persistent on getting his gold. “I need more than the trickle you are giving me,” he said. And Aymeric just made excuses.
“I am beginning to wonder if you even have the money to pay me,” Elyses said, “You say it is all tied up and you can’t access it. But it has been years. You haven’t gone insolvent, have you?”
“No, we have not,” Aymeric lied, “We have the coin, we just are waiting on a payout. People owe us as well.”
Elyses looked at him squarely, and Lyna knew he didn’t believe him. Aymeric started fumbling his words to the older man, clearly getting nervous. Once people started to realized how poor they were… But they were not the only ones with secrets. Lyna had done her research, and had drawn some conclusions.
“Brother, you should get some air,” she said, “The balcony in the next room will do you well.”
He looked at her, wanting to disagree, but saw her cold gaze, so looked down, slumped his shoulders slightly in defeat, and stood. “I guess some night air would be nice.”
With that he left the room, with Elyses looking confused as to why had he walked out on the discussion.
“Now,” Lyna said, “It is apparent that you need money. And I have determined why.”
“I need money?” he said, “Your brother is the one who seems unable to make his payments.”
“We need time, and you know with enough time, we could pay you back. But you insist on payment now. You don’t have investments you need to pay for, so that leaves only one conclusion.”
“What are you talking about, my lady?”
“You are being blackmailed, are you not?”
He sat back suddenly, a breath seemingly caught in his throat, panic on his face.
“You can admit it,” Lyna said. “You want us to be honest with each other, we can be.”
“Is your brother coming back?” he asked.
“No,” she said, “We are a partnership. The estates are half mine, and I have the same decision power as him. We will be discussing this from here on out.”
He looked around like a trapped animal, but then looked back at her. “Why would I be blackmailed?”
“Your wife has a lover,” Lyna said, repeating the information she had gathered, “And some of your children aren’t yours. And then there’s your lover. Your male lover.”
He sat back far in his chair, his face pale and drained of blood. She was correct, it seemed.
“Do not fear, I will not share what we discuss tonight. Not even with my fool of a brother,” she said.
“Then yes,” he said, “I am being blackmailed. My wife and I have an arrangement. I bed whomever, as does she. We only started after our second son was born. But the two later children are not mine.”
“And judging by how easy it is to get information from your servants, I am certain someone found out.” She had used bribery, as well as a potion that puts the drinker in a daze, that makes them amenable to tell the truth.
“Someone did discover, and they are blackmailing me. I may lose my lands if I cannot get gold to pay them.”
“Do you know who this person is?” she asked.
“I do,” he said.
“Are you certain?”
“I am certain. We have met and discussed it.”
“I can help you,” she said, “if you desire.”
“You can help by paying…” he said, and trailed off. Lyna pulled back a fold in her blouse, revealing a golden ornament on her chest, a symbol that reflected red in the firelight.
“Do you know what this means?” she asked.
“How did you get that?”
“It is a mark of my guild,” she said, “So you do know what it means.”
“You…” he was quite confused.
“I am an assassin. And if you choose, I can eliminate your problem.”
“Yes, definitely,” Elyses said, “If you can kill them…”
“I can, but there is a price. Lower debt payments, and a longer period to pay them. And a reduction in the amount, which will be most of my fee. I will require some gold, however, to send back as a guild fee.”
“Very well,” he said, seemingly stunned by the odd turn of events. And then the real negotiations began.