Assassin

‘If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.’ ~ Niccolo Machiavelli

She blended perfectly into the shadows of the buildings that loomed on either side of the narrow alley. A stray cloud snuffed out the pearly glow of the moon, and that was her cue for action. She blinked to get used to the darkness around her, before getting about scaling the worn and pitted wall that led to the window of the office of the Captain of the Guard. She paused under his window for a second, balancing precariously on the protruding edge of a brick, and with a movement of her black gloved fingers, a gentle breeze sighed, ruffling her hair for a second, before flowing into his office, causing the flame that danced on his wall sconce to flicker a few times, before the breeze prevailed, plunging his office into complete darkness, which sparked off a volley of curses.

With a single, fluid movement, she effortlessly swung herself into his office, drawing her blade from its scabbard on her back slowly, to avoid the scraping sound. She lifted the katana, readying it for the fatal slash as she drew closer to the man beside the wall sconce as he repeatedly tried to strike a match. Just as the assassin was close enough to deliver her strike, a matchstick burst into flame, falling into the sconce, and in a split-second, throwing the room from darkness into sheer brilliance. He turned around preparing to head back to his desk of unfinished paperwork, coming face to face with a young woman, a girl, really, who possessed the face of an angel, but as he was soon to discover, without the matching heart.

The moment she realized her cover of darkness was broken, the assassin let the katana in her hand drop to the floor with a noisy clatter, before sinking into a nearby chair and promptly dissolving into tears. The captain’s already widened eyes widened further, moving from the sobbing child to the sword and back again, before sitting down opposite her, still keeping his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“What’s wrong child?”

“It was them, they made me do it! Please, you have to believe me! They threatened to kill my little brother, all I have left in the world, if I refused to cooperate!” To the assassin’s own ears, the lies sounded horribly cliché.

For a man who had probably heard this story, with only the change of relatives, he bought the lie. Perhaps it was due to her youth, or those features that seemed too innocent to belong to a murderess. But whatever the reason was, when he leaned closer to offer her his handkerchief to dry her tears, she struck.

Before he could grasp what was happening, she had retrieved her sword from the floor, grabbed his arm and yanked him in close, impaling him on her blade. He stared at the hilt for a moment, and although the stab was fatal, he did not die as quickly as she had hoped, clinging stubbornly to life as he shouted with all the strength left in his dying body,

“Assassin!”

With a quick hard tug, her blade came free, and she headed for the window and jumped out, just as the first of the Guards entered the room. The assassin bent her knees to help absorb the shock of the impact as she hit the cobblestones, yet a tingle still shot up her spine upon impact. She winced, and soon realized, upon straightening, that her legs felt too weak to support her weight. However, the chorus of shouts and clatter of weapons seemed to add strength to her legs, and spurred her into movement.

The first few steps of her run were agony, and she feared her legs would simply collapse beneath her like twigs. Fortunately, the shaky feeling disappeared, and the assassin eased into a smooth run. Her boots pounded against the rain-slicked cobblestones, occasionally hitting puddles that sent up a spray of muddy water. Behind her, the Guards had begun their chase, their shouts driving her on like whips on the backs of horses.

She cut left and right, vaulting over walls and fences, yet although she applied every trick she had ever learnt, they were only a step behind, which was already one step too close for her liking. Fatigue had begun to seep in, for her energy seemed to simply disappear, and her legs, despite their well-honed muscles, soon began to feel like blocks of stone.

Finally, after leading them on a nearly two hour long chase through the maze of back streets and alleys, she came to a halt below a ladder An older man, well into his early thirties, soon descended from it, a sheathed sword hanging by his side.

“So Kaie, is he dead?”

“You should know better than to ask, Devlin.”

“Excellent. Come on up.”

Just as she had set foot on the first rung, he shouted.

“Behind you!” After fleeing from her pursuers for so long, she fell for the over-used exclamation of distraction, turning her back to him while she prepared to deal with the threat.

There was nobody there, but behind her, Devlin raised his sword, still snug in its scabbard, and brought it down hard on the back of her head, sending her reeling into darkness, and effectively releasing her grip on the next rung, and sending her unconscious body crashing down from her position on the first rung onto the waiting cobblestones.

The chasing Guards, panting hard and slowing to a walk, with a man the unconscious Kaie would have recognized as the leader of the pursuers as the first man to enter the office of the late Captain of the Guard. He gestured to his accompanying officers to remove the unconscious youth and bring her to the city’s jail, before dismissing the rest.

The leader of the pursuers, tall, well built, with looks to send the eligible ladies of court eying him from behind their fluttering fans, formed a stark contrast with the plainly dressed, and deceptively unremarkable assassin. Yet despite the explicit differences in their careers, the pair exchanged a firm handshake.

“She will definitely be hanged?”

“Yes. The court cannot spare her after her murdering of the late captain, who happened to be a close friend of the King.”

“The perfect end for my young, passionate student. I’ll see you soon, Captain Arundel.”

Arundel merely smiled, offering a slight bow, before heading after his men.

As quickly as the betrayal and arrest had taken place, the alley returned to its previously quiet state, as the older assassin, the final participant in the night’s frenzy of activity, left it for his villa on the city’s outskirts.

***

Kaie felt the heat and light of the afternoon sun burning through her eyelids. The back of her head hurt, and upon opening her eyes a crack, realized she was in a prison of some sort, with wooden planks for the ceiling, old and over-vandalized stones for walls, and a rough brick floor she had been lying on.

She dragged herself into a sitting position, staring blankly at the dust that floated in the stream of sunlight that filtered through the barred window that stood between freedom and her, as her mind sought to piece together the shards of her memory of the night before.

She sat there staring at the glittering particles of dust until the acute pain had faded to a dull ache, before stumbling towards the door, banging hard on it, until the metal piece slid back, revealing a pair of very irritated eyes, with an equally irritated voice to match.

“What do you want?”

“What am I doing here?”

“You’re here on the charge of murdering the late Captain Tiernan, due to hang at noon tomorrow.”

“What? I haven’t even had a trial yet!”

“You did… It’s just that you wasn’t there.” Laughter echoed in the background, presumably from his companions. “There wasn’t much room for any defense for you, and the new Captain Arundel heard the late Captain’s final shout of ‘assassin’, so they sentenced you immediately.” With that, the metal piece slammed back into place, bringing with it an air of complete despair and finality.

She banged on the door some more, until her hands hurt and all strength had disappeared from her, before crumpling onto the rough stone floor, ignoring the needles of pain that darted up her body, the rage she had felt at his betrayal returning in waves that threatened to overwhelm her and throw her into tears.

It took all the self-control she could muster to drive back the feeling of helpless rage, and the sobs that accompanied it, to the point where she could at least think of her chances without breaking into hysterics at the sheer hopelessness of the situation.


***

An hour from midday, they came for her, training crossbows on her while they bound her hands behind her back. That done, the Guards marched her from the country’s most protected jail to the city’s square, through roads lined with crowds jostling to get a better view of the daring assassin.

Murmurs rose when she passed, for since the assassin’s identity was made known, rumors about her possible connections coming to rescue her in an attempt that would go down in history began to fly.

Had any of the Guards bothered to listen to the chatter amongst a bunch of less than savory members of society posing as vendors hawking their wares, they would have realized that these people were here to watch the anticipated escape, and to assist her in it should it be successful, although they all agreed that if she let herself be hanged without putting up a proper fight, she deserved the death that awaited her a stone throw’s away.

They led her up the gallows’s steps, and she followed obediently. Kaie had no idea of how strong her holds on the four elementals were; and yet they were her last hope. There was no way to untie the knots around her wrists, and so, offering a prayer to whatever deity might be watching, she willed the ropes that bound her wrist to burst into flames, as the noose was settled in place around her neck. She could feel a small trickle of warmth at her wrists, and she concentrated harder, willing the warmth to burst into a proper flame. The noose was tightened around her neck, and the executioner placed his hand on the handle to jerk the trapdoor out from under her, while the denizens of the city’s underworld held their breath as the general crowd went wild.

And finally, the ropes exploded into orange flames, and in a split second, making use of the shock that expressed itself on the executioner’s face, Kaie slid the noose off her head, hooked her foot around the executioner’s ankle, and jerked, sending him sprawling in her direction, before catching him in mid-fall to pull him upright.

She held the shocked man as a shield, allowing the crossbow bolts to punch holes in his back, and grabbed his short sword, yanking it free of the scabbard, before releasing her hold on his fast dying body, letting it tumble onto the planks of the gallows, staining the wooden planks with spots of crimson.

Now she watched the crossbow men reload, and heard the shouts for reinforcements. Kaie stared at the cloth of their uniforms, pleading with the materials to burst into flame. The assassin had learnt only the most basic of the elemental magicks, preferring to concentrate on swordplay, but now her escape seemed to hinge on how well she wielded the little she knew. That realization brought a sardonic smile to her face.

Just as she smiled, the uniforms burst into flames. Almost immediately, all hell broke loose. The common populace began to run away from the flailing and screaming guards, ignoring their pleas for help in their wild scrambles for safety, wherever it might lie. The scene was one of total chaos, and the people who had come to watch her die now formed an effective barricade between the reinforcements and their quarry, for they would not dare to shoot any crossbow bolts or arrows, for fear of hitting civilians and causing anger against the Guards, or draw their swords, to avoid a stampede for the exits, possibly increasing the rising number of deaths.

As a result, they would only watch in helpless rage as the assassin left the platform, seamlessly blending into the crush of people that ran for the nearest exit from the square. There was no time, nor enough men, to set up blockades at every single way out, due to the speed and surprise of the escape.

***

Kaie followed the general flow of the crowd, letting it carry her into the poorer districts, before she peeled off from the mass outside a completely unremarkable tavern, who hid a remarkable sort of people, where she hoped the ‘innkeeper’ would allow her to put the bill for stay on credit.

The ‘innkeeper’ was the complete opposite of the stereotypical middle-aged, portly man with an apron of varying degrees of cleanliness. Rather, he was young, barely out of his mid-twenties, slim, and immaculately dressed in a black shirt and trousers. He stretched out a hand to greet her, and she clasped it, a smile spreading across her face. They broke apart after a while, and she asked.

“Cathan, do you have a room for rent?”

“I do, in fact. But the cheaper ones are all taken, which leaves you with the better furnished and larger rooms.”

“I don’t have a single coin in my purse.”

“Whoever said anything about payment? My dear girl, your daring solo escape today is enough to warrant you lodging, and coupled with the favor I owe you for removing that particularly nasty sergeant, I can’t bring myself to charge you. In fact, I had some friends in the crowd who were supposed to help you get out, but you didn’t need them.”

“The reward they might place on my head, no matter how high, will definitely not sway you to give me away?”

“Of course not. There is honor amongst thieves, on the contrary to what everyone else thinks.”

She nodded her assent, before gesturing at herself.

“Anywhere I might be able to clean up?”

“Follow me.”

***

They met in the study of Devlin’s villa that night, a large room filled with shelves of books along the walls, and large, comfortable, overstuffed chairs, with orange flames dancing in wall sconces that dispelled all traces of the night from the room. Yet despite the cozy setting, an icy silence hung in the air, as the men sipped at their glasses of imported wine, staring fixedly at everything in the room except each other. Devlin’s lips were set in a thin line, and his gray eyes betrayed the storm that raged inside him. Finally, unable to keep the storm within him any longer, the assassin slammed the exquisite crystal goblet in his hand hard on the table, in a tinkle of glass against the floor and a spray of red wine, horribly blood like against the white of the fur rug.

“You promised me that she would hang!”

“I have men searching the streets now, for any sign of her.”

He gave a short, harsh laugh.

“You know nothing of how the Underworld works, don’t you? If someone has friends and connections with money, they’re practically impossible to find. And my young student, in particular, has enough connections who owe her small favors that she will claim now.”

“My men won’t take the bribe from them. The money on her head is worth their entire lifetime’s pay!”

“Whatever it is, the fact is that she’s free on the streets, free to claim revenge because you underestimated her! Please, don’t say anymore Captain. My servants will escort you out.”

After his companion was shown out, Devlin sank deep into thought. He remembered the last time he saw Kaie enraged, and the memory sent shivers dancing down his spine.

It was a year or two ago, and he had taught another girl besides Kaie. Dierdre had been as different as Kaie as fire was to ice, burning with passion for a hopeless cause that had involved something about liberating the common people from the so-called stranglehold of the rich, and had used the skills of darkness he had taught her on anyone the group thought should be removed.

At first, he had indulged her, until the number of murders of important members of the elite classes had begun to rise. And that became a constant source of worry for him, his fear that the day the Guards would be coming to arrest him for enough murder charges to hang him many times over would soon come true.

He had talked to her about it many times, and yet she had refused to stop, insisting that her work on that cause was none of his concern. The day finally came when he could take no more, and arranged for her to be murdered in a dark, lonely alley by a gang of armed men.

He had never guessed how close she was to Kaie.

For weeks after that, he had seen her poring over every last clue from the murder, tracking down the killers one by one, slashing their throats open where she found them, leaving their bodies for the street scavengers to find and strip bare.

The last man was killed just before he betrayed her out of fear that he would be next. A fear now further justified after her escape from the gallows, now with a more personal reason to see him dead.

A light breeze blew through the room; ruffling the gauzy curtains, wonderfully cool in the hot night, causing the flames to flicker. Devlin remembered how she killed her victims, her style of killing after plunging them into complete darkness. Unable to suppress a shiver, he stood up and went to shut the window.

***

A few nights later, when lightning split the skies in streaks of pure white energy, and raindrops hurled themselves against every surface to an accompaniment of roaring thunder and wailing gales, Kaie pulled on a worn leather coat, fastening the katana she had just ordered and paid for, with the help of Cathan, on her belt. She stared at her new sword, with its silver dragon embossed fistguard, automatically comparing it against her old one with its simple designs. After a few minutes, she decided the newer blade far outclassed the old one, and to blood her new sword with Devlin’s blood seemed a most fitting end for him.

The assassin shut the door behind her, snapping her fingers as she did so. Almost instantly, the candles and the sconces in the room were extinguished. In the past few days, she had learnt how to use every bit of Elemental Magick she had to its greatest extent, with the help of a mage Cathan hired. And tonight, with the storm raging outside, would provide her with enough of two of the four elementals to wreak a decent amount of damage.

Cathan met her in the stairway, his face betraying his disbelief when she dropped the keys to her room into his hands.

“You’re leaving tonight? In this weather?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. It’s better for me to leave soon, before the Guards pick up my trail and find me here.”

“A few coins here, a few gold pieces there, with the odd threat of murder thrown in, they’ll leave me alone. Besides, I’ve housed worse criminals than you.”

“But never one who escaped the execution ground by causing mass chaos and making a fool of the Guards.”

“I suppose you’ll be leaving the city then?”

“I guess so. They’re not going to forget me anytime soon.”

“You owe me favors now, you know. How will I claim them?”

“You’ll find a way, if you need them badly enough.”

Their conversation had been filled with awkward pauses, and now she was at the door.

“Farewell.”

“Farewell. And Kaie? Be careful.”

She gave him one final smile, before walking into the storm. Cathan watched her figure grow smaller and fainter with the distance, until she faded from view altogether.

***

Kaie stood outside his doors, feeling the cold drops of rain against her face, and the chilly embraces of the winds that blew all around. She inhaled deeply, and closed her eyes, willing the storm elementals to attack the door. They listened, and the winds began to pick up, the rain fell harder, yet to no avail, only causing the locks on the door to rattle under the repeated assaults.

Or so she thought, until a bolt of lightning hit the door with full force, sending Kaie jumping back a few steps. Now the door, smoked and singed, yielded to the wrath of the storm without a single hint of protest, flinging itself open, both sides of it hitting the walls on either side with a loud crash.

Drawing her sword, Kaie stormed in, her entourage of gales and rain swirling around her.

None barred her way, yet every pair of eyes in the villa widened at the damage she caused. Furniture was overturned, glass cases were shattered, and priceless works of art shattering as they were dashed to the floor by the storm elementals, whose faces were filled with malicious glee as they swept through the impeccable displays of furniture and decorations, for so rarely was the opportunity to ravage a house open to them.

Kaie came to a stop outside Devlin’s study, dismissing the elementals with a causal flick of her hand. They made faces at her, as if blaming her for spoiling their fun, before sweeping out, extinguishing all the lights as they returned to their waiting brethren,

She knocked, and tried the handle.

The door was open, and Devlin waited inside, with a book in hand, and a sword lying across the table.

They eyed each other, teacher against student. He stood up slowly, the squeaking of his chair against the wooden floor excruciatingly loud in the silence of the room, before drawing his blade. With a sight, he murmured, just loudly enough for her to hear.

“And so it has come to this. A fight to the death.”

“Yes. And you caused it.”

He slowly stepped out from behind his desk, drawing his longsword from its scabbard.

Kaie eyed him from her position on the other side of the room; hand on the hilt of her katana, her left thumb slowly easing the blade free of the scabbard, to make drawing it easier.

Devlin came to a halt in the center of the room, where it was bereft of all furniture, and motioned for her to come closer. She stalked in, her azurine stare matching his slate gray one, fingers coiling tightly around her blade’s hilt, as his tightened around his own.

The very air seemed to tingle with anticipation as they settled into their stances, remaining as still as statues, and the servants of the villa who had seen her impressive entry now crowded in the doorway, holding their breath, afraid to blink, for fear that they would miss the opening attacks.

After what seemed like eternity, they broke as one, and seemed to almost fly towards each other, the swords flashing in the orange light cast by the candles and sconces, colliding with a resounding crash.

A fast and furious exchange of thrusts and parries ensued, the hands of the combatants a blur of movements as their blades wove seamless nets of gleaming silver around their bodies, as the blows were effortlessly deflected.

Soon after the opening exchange, they broke apart, circling each other.

Devlin leapt forward, his sword sweeping down impossibly fast towards her

Kaie dipped her head slightly, and the slash took nothing more with it besides a few strands of hair. A slight step to the side helped her avoid the following downward cut, once again barely missing, and the near misses sparked off a blaze of gray fire in his eyes.

Without missing a step, he continued his assault, bringing his sword down hard and fast in an arc. She spun the katana over, stopping his sword midway with the pommel, and whipped her blade upwards, nearly slicing off his fingers and colliding squarely with his hilt, the force of her strike sending him reeling backwards.

Immediately Kaie rushed in, katana raised, eager to exploit his loss of balance.

Catching himself in mid-fall, he switched his sword from his right to his left.

As she neared, he thrust out with the sword, the length of steel sinking deep into her shoulder, before he withdrew his blade in a sudden movement that caused her to wince as the metal tore through already wounded tissues and muscles on its way out.

The youth fell into a low crouch, fingers still firm around the hilt despite the gash, her eyes filled with azurine fire.

He moved in for the kill, his sword lifted high over her crouching figure.

She waited for him to come nearer, before leaping high, katana angled to her side. Kaie cleared his shoulder, landing as gracefully as a cat, and the blade tore open his cheek, which brought a small smile to her face.

They circled again.

The blood from her shoulder soaked through her dress and into the leather, turning the white dress crimson, and the leather a dull red.

Kaie slid her blade back into the scabbard, settling into an opening stance, right hand resting lightly on her katana’s hilt, left thumb under the fistguard.

At that moment, Devlin attacked.

In time it took one to blink, her katana flew free of the scabbard, arcing high, aiming for his neck.

He saw the blade coming, and turned, barely in time, and her sword missed him by a hair’s breadth. His eyes shone with near maniacal glee, and he raised his sword, ready to deliver what he believed was the fatal blow.

As his sword tore through the air towards Kaie, her scabbard, held with her left hand, shot up.

The steel enforced scabbard crushed his bones, sending the sword flying out of his grasp and landing a good distance away, and causing him to collapse on the floor.

She stood over him, katana lifted high, watching dispassionately as he struggled into a kneeling position, in a final attempt to defy the death that waited him a step away.

The last thing he felt, before the world seemed to slow and stop, was the cold kiss of steel against his neck

***

A few days, Kaie stood in front of a plain granite tombstone, her ebon hair and ragged white dress fluttering in the wind, a small bouquet of wildflowers resting in her black-gloved hands, as she whispered to the wind.

“I’ve killed the last of your murderers, Dierdre. Be at peace now, and farewell.”

With that, she turned away, her katana slung across her back, ready to leave the city where she had lived, and nearly died in, never to return.