Assassin Mavi - Chapter 4

Something soft flicking against her hand finally roused her. For a moment, she didn’t remember where she was and then it all came flooding back. Mavi jerked her hand away and opened her eyes. A cat curled up beside her, big and black, his tail gently twitching. It was a he, as she could see from this angle. She grasped the tail and pulled lightly. The cat stretched and then turned around to see what had got hold of its tail. Large yellow eyes regarded her unblinkingly. Even his whiskers were black. Mavi smiled. “Hello there.” He must have come in through the open window. She sat up on one elbow and scratched the top of his head. He meowed and pushed against her hand, arching obligingly as she stroked his thick fur. “Well you’re a friendly fellow.”

She glanced out the window. The sun was nearly overhead. She had slept half the day away. But she felt refreshed. Then she noticed something lying at the foot of the bed. Clothes. On top of the clothes lay her dagger and finger cymbals. Richard must have put them there. She wrapped the finger cymbals in the robe and put them carefully in the trunk before turning her attention to the clothes. They consisted of a woman’s skirt and blouse and a vest. She put them on, excited to have actual clothes. They were not new. The blue of the skirt was faded and the blue and green plaid blouse was patched at the elbows but they were clean and would do very nicely. The skirt was a bit long but it would do. The sleeves were too long also but she rolled them up. She laced the gray cotton vest tight to hold everything together and felt dressed for the first time in a very long time. She had become so accustomed to the revealing clothes of her gaçi girl costume; she’d forgotten what it was like to be fully dressed.

She looked around “her” room with satisfaction. It was a comfortable space and she was lucky to have it. Murmuring suitable apologies, she dislodged the cat from the bed and smoothed the covers. She still felt clean from her bath the previous night. She found a comb in the trunk and pulled it through her hair as best she could. Her wavy dark hair spread in a halo around her face. She also found an old leather belt and fastened it around her waist. By tucking a few inches of the front of the skirt into the belt, she raised the hem sufficiently to permit walking. The back still dragged on the ground but only slightly. She tucked her dagger into the belt. She vowed never to go unarmed again. The cat regarded her silently, having returned to his spot on the bed.

“Well?” She twirled for his inspection. In answer, the cat licked one paw and began grooming himself. “I guess I’ll do.” She pulled aside the curtain. Richard’s bed was empty. He had probably been up for hours. She walked down the stairs and looked around.

Sunlight streamed in the front windows. Mavi walked to one and peered out. By day the neighborhood was much less foreboding. People were out and about, many taking their noon meal in the square not far from the house. Mavi looked around the room. Richard was not there. She went into the kitchen. No Richard. She peeked into the bath. Not there either. He must be out doing something. Her stomach rumbled. Hungrily, she poked around the kitchen shelves and looked in the storage jars. She found nothing, not a bite to eat. Tempting smells wafted from the marketplace through the open windows. She remembered the five coppers in the pocket of her dancing clothes. They were still lying in a heap by the fire where she had left them last night. She picked them up and felt for her money. It was there. She found a pocket in her skirt and put her precious coins there, after carefully checking the seams.

She closed the front door carefully behind her and walked up the street to the marketplace. With one copper, she bought a hard-boiled egg. It had been wrapped in sausage and fried. It was delicious. The vendor took one look at her muscled slenderness and slipped her a second, no charge. She started to protest but thanked the man and took it. She drank water from the well and looked around for some fruit. She bought a bunch of grapes from another vendor and settled down in a doorway to eat them, gazing at passers by.

To her surprise and delight, she saw Jamal and Richard making their way toward her across the square. She rose and went to meet them.

Jamal embraced her. “So you are alive and well. I had to see it with my own eyes.” He looked her up and down. “You’re looking well - and such fine clothes.” Mavi twirled for his inspection. She caught Richard looking at her as well. Silently he nodded his approval. He was dressed in his black leather again, but as the day was hot he wore a sleeveless jerkin and pants. The boots were the same.

Jamal continued. “Imagine my surprise when this dangerous looking fellow comes to me and says you’ve taken up with him and he’s got a position for me in one of the great houses.” Jamal whispered. “I figured you were murdered or worse, and I was next.”

“He’s telling the truth. We had some bad luck yesterday - as you know.” Jamal nodded grimly. “I ran into some trouble and he helped me. He thinks I would make a good guild member so I’m going to try for it. That means I won’t be dancing for awhile but I didn’t want to leave you without work.”

“On the way here, we stopped at the home of General Armisted himself. I drummed for his master musician and he offered me a permanent position. My girls and I are moving in there later today. Imagine, me, a musician in a great house!” Then his smile dimmed. “But it won’t be the same without you there, dancing. You’ve a gift for it.”

Mavi hugged him. “Oh Jamal, I’m so pleased for you. You have so much talent. You will do well. As for me, well, I’m sure there will be more dancing in my future, but not right now. I need to try this.”

“Well, you know best.” Jamal darted a glance over his shoulder at Richard. “He’s a handsome one. I’m sure you’ve been swept off your feet but I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.”

“No, you probably wouldn’t at that.” Mavi admitted.

“Oh yes. You probably haven’t heard but your landlord, that Garra fellow was found dead last night - a nasty business. Maybe you’re moving on just in time.” He shrugged. “Can’t say that I was sorry to hear the news. He was a bad lot all around.” Mavi looked at the ground, saying nothing. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Jamal would react to the knowledge that she and Richard had Garra’s blood on their hands.

Jamal glanced back and forth between Richard and Mavi, trying to puzzle out the situation. He was unsuccessful. “I must be off. I need to transfer my belongings, few though they are, and be ready to perform by nightfall. Be well, Mavi. Make us all proud. And watch your back.” They embraced once more. Then, with a last glance at Richard, Jamal squared his shoulders and set off the way he had come. Mavi watched him go.

She was startled from her reverie by Richard’s hand on her shoulder. “Your friend is provided for. I’ve kept my promise. Now you must keep yours.”

Mavi shrugged off his hand and turned to face him. “Of course, and, thank you Richard. What you’ve done is...”

“Don’t mention it.” Richard turned to leave the square. “Come Mavi, we have much to do.”

“Do we begin my training today?”

“No. But we must begin as soon as possible. The next Dark Guild entrance exam is six months from now - at the spring festival.” He was already striding away and Mavi ran to catch up. He stopped short and Mavi nearly collided with him. He looked her up and down. “The clothes are a start. You’ll need others suitable for training.” He began walking and stopped again. This time Mavi did collide with him. He steadied her with one hand. “You must also register as a guild aspirant.” Mavi silently absorbed this new information; gingerly feeling her nose and wondering what in Eden she had gotten herself into.

Mavi followed Richard through a series of twists and turns until they reached the Street of Tailors. Richard strode directly to one of the smaller establishments. Unlike many of the other houses, this one displayed no finery in the front window. Only a small brass sign that read “Fine Clothing by Laszlo” marked it.

Richard knocked. A teenage boy, an apprentice by all appearances, opened the door immediately. He gazed silently at Richard and then at Mavi. “Master’s in the back, he’s doing a final fitting.”

“Tell Laszlo that Richard is here with a new recruit.” The boy nodded and darted through the curtains to the back of the shop. Mavi heard the boy speak and an answering baritone.

The boy re-emerged. “He’s just finishing up now sir and will be with you shortly.” The boy disappeared again, this time through another door. Mavi looked at Richard. He seemed lost in thought so she turned her attention to the shop. The wall was covered with shelves, which held bolts and bolts of fabric, all kinds, in addition to numerous hides stacked in layers. In a display case under the counter there were spools of thread, buttons, laces, and a few odds and ends, as well as ready-made gloves and gauntlets and such.

In a few minutes a woman emerged, carrying a garment over one arm. She was tall and slender and dressed similarly to Richard. Her sleeveless tunic exposed her muscular shoulders. She was quite beautiful save for a scar over one eye that ran up into the hairline. There the scar produced a section of white, which contrasted, sharply with the rest of her long dark hair. She exchanged nods with Richard. “You’re well?”

“Well enough.” Richard answered guardedly. Mavi glanced back and forth between the two. They obviously knew each other.

The woman looked Mavi up and down, a slight smile playing over her lips. “Who’s this?”

Mavi spoke up. “I’m Mavi. I’m registering as a guild aspirant today.”

The woman nodded. “Assassin?” She asked doubtfully.

Richard answered. “No, Fetcher, I think.”

“I see. Well, luck be with you Mavi.” She nodded goodbye to Mavi. ”Be well Richard.” She held out her hand, palm out and Richard touched her hand briefly with his.” She moved smoothly out the door.

Mavi looked after her, impressed by her muscles as much as her lean grace. “She’s an assassin?”

“Yes, and a very good one. We’ve worked together from time to time. Her name is Kirisan.”

Finally, Laszlo himself appeared. He was an older man, in his sixth or seventh decade but he moved with the grace and ease of someone half his age. Mavi realized at once he belonged to the Dark Guilds. His hair was snow white and cropped so short it stood up from his head like a brush. He wore a gold ring in one ear. He and Richard clasped hands and then Laszlo turned his attention to Mavi.

“So this is the aspirant.” He examined her. “What does she need?” Mavi looked at Richard, also wondering that.

“Leather. Something basic for the physical training.” Richard answered. “You know more about women’s clothing than I. She’s wearing everything she has. Fill in whatever else she needs. Oh yes,” he smiled “make her some dance clothes. She lost hers in an unfortunate accident yesterday.” Laszlo raised his eyebrows.

“I see.” The tailor clasped his hands together. “A dancer. I thought so when I saw you. Well, step into the back here and I’ll get you measured…”

“Mavi.” Mavi supplied.

“Mavi. That’s a lovely name and very fitting for a dancer.” He turned to Richard. “This will take a few minutes. I’ll have my apprentice bring you some tea.” Richard settled into a chair near the front door and Mavi ran to catch up with Laszlo who had already disappeared behind the curtain again.

The back room of the tailor shop was even more crowded than the front. However, it was much brighter, lit by daylight streaming through a well-placed skylight in the roof. There were several dressmakers’ dummies in various states of dress along the wall and a platform in front of a long mirror for fittings. Tables and shelves were piled high with garments, some finished, some clearly in more preliminary stages.

The tailor donned a pair of rimless spectacles and pulled out a tape measure. “Cori, bring Richard some tea.” Mavi heard the boy reply from the side room and heard the clink of cups and plates as the boy readied the tea.

He turned his attention to Mavi, looking her up and down. “You’ll put on muscle in your training but not too much, judging from your build. “He tapped her bandaged wrist with his finger. “Had your first blood ceremony already I see.” He stated matter of factly. Mavi could only nod as he continued. “Your clothes are too big for you. I’ll have Cori shorten the sleeves and take up the hem of the skirt a few inches while I measure.

Mavi blushed. “I have nothing else on.”

Laszlo chuckled. “Well, let me see what I can find to preserve modesty, eh?” He winked at her. Mavi couldn’t help but smile back. He searched through a pile of finished garments and handed two items to Mavi, indicating she could change behind a screen provided for that purpose. Mavi quickly shed her clothes and pulled on a pair of simple white knickers that came to just below her knees. She pulled the drawstring tight to secure them around her waist. The other garment was a matching sleeveless camisole. It fastened up the front with tiny hooks and eyes. It was very pretty. Her hands lingered as she did up the shirt. She’d never had such fine things.

She emerged from behind the screen. At the same time, Cori returned from delivering the tea. Laszlo handed his apprentice Mavi’ blouse and skirt. “Shorten the sleeves four inches, take up the skirt six inches and,” he glanced at Mavi again, “take in the waist six inches as well.”

“Yes sir.” Cori accepted the garments, glanced at Mavi and darted into the little side room which obviously also functioned as his work area.

The tailor went to a shelf containing a number of files. He pulled one out, scratched out a name and wrote hers over it. “This will be your file while you’re my customer.

“What about the name you crossed out?” Mavi found herself asking although she already knew the answer.

“Dead.” He answered as he continued to write. Then the tailor looked up and saw her face.

“There, there lass. Surely you know the dark guilds have their risks, and getting dead is one of them. But you’re young and strong and seem to have a fine head on your shoulders. You’ve got as good a chance to live to a ripe old age as any I’ve seen.”

“Thank you Mr. Laszlo, that’s reassuring.”

“Just Laszlo m’dear. Humor an old man.”

“Laszlo.” The tailor finished writing and picked up his tape again. Quickly and expertly he took all her measurements, noting them in his book. Overall height, arms and legs, inseam and out, ankles, wrists, neck, shoulders, chest, waist, hips, everything was duly noted and recorded.

He looked at her bare feet. “You’ve no shoes or boots I suppose?”

“None at all. No socks either.” Mavi shrugged. “I never needed any footwear for dancing.”

“Well, I expect Richard will be taking you to the cobbler’s next.” Mavi shrugged again. She really had no idea what Richard planned next.

“Are you right- or left-handed?”

“What?” The question took Mavi off guard. She tried to fathom what relation her handedness had to clothing measurements.

“Pockets, m’dear - in the leathers. Later on, when you know what you’re doing, you can tell me where you want the pockets but for your first leathers I make my best guess, based on your favored hand.”

Mavi nodded, pretending to understand. “Right. I’m right-handed.” Mavi clarified. This was duly noted along with her measurements.

The tailor moved to a table at the side of the room and pulled a hide off the shelf. The scent of new leather and dye filled the room. Mavi inhaled deeply. “Only the finest leather for my clients.” He took up a chalk and began marking the skin, glancing occasionally at Mavi. He made a few cuts to get the basic shape. He threw a scrap to Mavi. She caught it, with her right hand. Laszlo noted this and smiled. It was soft, exquisitely soft glove leather. Mavi rubbed the scrap against her cheek and held it under her nose, inhaling the wonderful scent.

“Well, you’ve certainly got a guild member’s love of the leather. Never met one yet who didn’t care for it.” Mavi smiled. Laszlo picked up the leather pieces of what would become a sleeveless tunic and fitted them to Mavi, pinning as he went. “There, the tunic’s fitted.” He deposited the pieces on a different table and pulled more of the same hide onto the table surface. He marked out what would be a pair of leggings using his rapid, expert chalk strokes. The leggings were fitted in short order and then he pulled down a slightly weightier hide for a jacket. This took somewhat longer than the leggings and tunic but was done soon enough.

“There.” He eyed the pile of pinned garments-to-be. “I’ll base your second set and your street clothes on those. The cloak doesn’t need fitting.” He looked around. “Stay here.” Mavi stood, looking at her fine undergarments in the long mirror and glancing at the promising pile of leather on the table.

He returned with Richard and two bolts of fabric. One was the most beautiful deep blue silk Mavi had ever seen. The other was a copper mesh fabric unknown to Mavi. “For the dance costume?” He glanced at Richard and Mavi.

Richard looked at Mavi. “You have to dance in it.”

“Oh, I love it. Of course.” Mavi was beaming. “I’ve never had anything so lovely.”

Laszlo sniffed. “Of course. I have excellent taste.” He held up the blue silk. Mavi caressed it. I thought the blue would bring out the color of her eyes.” He explained to Richard. He picked up the bolt of copper. “And this will contrast magnificently with the blue and bring out the red highlights in her hair. It costs a bit more but the effect is stunning.” He pulled some smaller spools from the pocket of his tailor’s apron. “And for trim, the red, purple and gold threads, just a little, not enough to overwhelm the copper and blue.” Mavi and Richard glanced at each other. Mavi tried hard not to look like a child at her first feast day. It was all she could do to keep from jumping up and down.

Cori returned with her street clothes. Mavi suddenly realized she was standing in a room with three men, well one more a boy than a man, while wearing only undergarments. Hurriedly she pulled on the blouse and skirt. The fit was much improved. She was no longer in danger of tripping on the skirt and the sleeves no longer needed rolling up. She laced up the vest and buckled the belt, once again securing her dagger.

Richard pulled a coin bag from his tunic. He emptied the contents onto the table. Mavi was stunned. She had never seen so many gold and silver coins in her life. Richard tossed a silver coin to Cori who caught it happily, tucking it away in his belt with lightning fast fingers. ‘Thieves’ Guild?’ Mavi wondered. Quickly, she felt for the remaining three coppers in her skirt pocket. They were still there.

Richard was counting the money. “The usual? ... Half now and half upon completion. The tailor nodded as he set the dance fabric on the table. Richard returned some coins to the bag and left the remainder for the tailor who had apparently just made more money in one hour than Mavi usually made in a year.

Back out on the Street of Tailors, Mavi was full of questions but somehow felt like keeping quiet. She drank in her surroundings; suddenly keenly aware of those she thought might be dark guild members. They could be her competition, and maybe someday, her friends.

“You’re quiet, for once.” Richard smiled. “Laszlo was a great assassin once but he became a tailor, why, I’m not sure, years ago, before I had entered the guild. Now he’s the tailor for all the dark guilds. It’s nothing official but he does the best work.”

“He seems very skilled. He was very kind. I like him.” Mavi paused as she walked around a particularly deep puddle from the previous day’s rain. “His assistant Cori, is he in the Thieves’ Guild? He’s got very fast hands.”

“You’ve got sharp eyes. Yes, he’s got great hands for thieving. He’ll make a good tailor one day too.”

“So, where to next?” Mavi skipped along beside Richard. He still managed to stride ahead and she constantly had to jog a few paces to keep up.

“Cobbler’s Row. You need some footwear.”

“Hah.” Mavi exclaimed. “Laszlo was right. That’s where he said we’d go next.”

In Cobbler’s Row Mavi was fitted for some leather boots and Richard plunked down a couple silver coins for a pair of ready-made shoes that fit her quite well. Mavi paced up and down experimentally in her new shoes, frowning and twisting about.

“I’m going to get blisters. I’m not used to shoes.”

“You can break them in gradually. You can go barefoot for all I care but you’ll need shoes occasionally and I don’t need to explain the boots.” Mavi watched Richard hand over more money to the cobbler who told them to return in one week for the finished boots.

Thunder rumbled overhead. Mavi groaned. “Oh no, not again.” She looked at the sky. It had turned overcast while they were at the cobbler. She looked at Richard. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not repeat yesterday, at least the soaking wet and miserable part.”

“You still need to register as an aspirant today. I told them we’d be by but we can wait out the rain somewhere.” Richard caught her hand as the drops began to fall. “The Raven is nearby. We can go there.” This time Mavi had no trouble keeping up with him. Damned if she was going to get wet again any time soon.

They burst into the tavern, which was quickly filling with like-minded individuals escaping the rain. It was dark and smoky inside; the evening lamps not yet lit, but blessedly dry and warm. The only light came from the fireplace and the candles on each table. They found a table not too far from the fire, against one of the walls. Pangs of hunger stirred in Mavi’ belly as the tempting odors of the noon meal filled the room. Richard snagged two tankards of ale and settled into the chair against the wall. He slid a drink across the table to Mavi. She caught it and picked it up, saluting him with up-raised mug before she drank.

The ale was cool and had a dark nutty flavor. She swallowed and wiped the foam from her upper lip with the back of her hand. She drank again. The alcohol eased the slight hangover she was nursing and she began to relax as the warmth spread through her muscles. Richard put his booted feet on the table and leaned back in his chair. He watched her from half-closed eyes and sipped his ale.

He looked every inch the assassin, half hidden in the shadows, firelight playing over the folds of his leather tunic and the muscles in his arms. His earring caught the light and sparkled as he turned his head slightly. He put down the empty tankard and leaned toward her.

Mavi drained her tankard and set it down as well, ready to match him move for move. She jerked her head back as Richard reached out a hand but he only wiped foam from the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, guess I’m still a little nervous around you.” She explained, wishing she had not betrayed her uncertain feelings toward him.

Richard sighed. “Surely by now you realize I intend you no harm. I’ve already invested a considerable sum toward your future with the guilds and it would be foolish to jeopardize that.”

Mavi gazed back at him steadily. “Sometimes people do foolish things, even assassins I’ll bet.”

Richard smiled. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” He stood up. “The rain has stopped. It is time you registered with the guilds.” He caught her longing glance toward the kitchen. “We can eat when that’s done.”

“Very well. I think I can survive that long.” Richard plunked down a few coppers for the ale and made his way through the crowd to the door. Mavi followed.

Outside, it was cool. The rain had stopped but the sun was quite low and most of Eden was in deep shadow. The lamps were being lit up and down the streets as they walked along, hopping over small puddles, walking around the bigger ones.

The hall of the dark guilds was an impressive building despite its location in the worst part of town. Normally Mavi would have been terrified to be here but with Richard striding ahead of her she felt nearly safe, or at least less afraid of the surrounding shadows than of the assassin she followed. The hall arose three stories and was built of stone on the first floor and wood above. It was set back from the street some yards behind a low wall carved with various symbols. Richard pointed them out - the upraised dagger of the Assassin’s Guild, the scroll of the Fetcher’s Guild and gold coins of the Thieves’ Guild.

There were no guards. Richard and Mavi strode right in through the front door. Mavi found herself in a great hall. It was lit here and there with flickering torches. The walls were lined with tapestries depicting, Mavi assumed, great moments in assassination, thieving and fetching. Richard guided her to a desk near the front door. No one was there so Richard rang a bell sitting on the desk. In a moment a woman emerged, a chicken leg in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. She set these on the desk and wiped her hands on her leggings.

“Hello there Richard. I was just having my dinner.” She looked at Mavi. “Who’s this?”

Mavi cleared her throat. “I’ve come to register as an aspirant to the Fetcher’s Guild.”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t peg you for a killer or a thief.” Responded the woman matter-of-factly. But her smile was warm as she looked Mavi up and down. “I see Richard’s chosen well, as usual.” She addressed Mavi. “Can you write?”

Mavi flushed. “Yes.” She glanced at Richard. “I’ve had schooling.”

The woman regarded her with a small amount of respect. “Wonderful, you’re one step ahead of most of the others then.” She pushed a form toward Mavi and handed her a quill.”

Mavi smiled back at the woman. “I’ve been a street dancer for the last decade. But before that, I went to school. My name is Mavi.”

“I’m Phaedra, dark guild registrar. Welcome Mavi.” She waited patiently while Mavi filled out the form, indicating her name, address - she thought about that and then noted “residing with Assassin’s Guild member Richard.” Other lines on the form asked for her age, background, etc. Phaedra took the form, waving it in the air to dry the ink. Then she looked it over and tucked it away in a drawer. Finally, she opened a large and apparently quite ancient book and turned it to face Mavi. “This is a record of everyone who has aspired to guild membership.

“Just sign there.” He pointed to the next available line on the page. Mavi signed her name. She set the quill down, wondering why this seemed such a solemn moment.

“Is that it?” Mavi asked, wondering if there would be some ceremony akin to the first blood ritual of the previous night.

“That’s it.” Phaedra took the quill and book. “Everything seems in order. You’re free to go.”

Richard nodded. “Our thanks. We’ll let you get back to your dinner.” They exchanged good byes and went back out into the night.