Scrambling out from the shadow of the alley he was walking through, Corvhale tripped on an uneven flagstone and fell onto the gritty main street of the dock town of Kakuo. Muttering to himself, Corvhale brushed as mud off himself as was possible and continued his hurried shuffle to his house, blinking the slight drizzle out of his eyes in the process.
Trying his hardest not to seem too conspicuous, Corvhale slipped into his house, a quiet two storey wooden building off in a corner, beside the lonely warehouses. Once the door was safely shut behind him, Corvhale breathed a huge sigh of relief. With his fear nagging at him he gritted his teeth and pushed off from the door. If that was really a Drikung assassin, he would not be far behind. He was about to head up the stairs when he let out a squeal as a hand grabbed him.
“I’ve always wondered how you people managed to even move in all that clothes. What’s your secret, Merchant? You have plenty, do you not?” The voice was soft, yet sharp; and the words drawn out, reminding Corvhale of a snake hissing.
Corvhale turned, haltingly, towards the speaker, his words stuck in his throat. He broke into sweat, even though it was a rather cold day. The figure was standing in front of the window beside the door, his cloaked form silhouetted against the light from the setting sun.
Corvhale was about to speak, to say something, when he felt a sharp pain in his side, the stranger had stabbed him! And he had not even seen him move!
“Save it, merchant, I’m not in the mood for conversations. You made me wait in this sty of a house while you took your time stumbling the long way across the docks.” The shadowy figure was leaning in, whispering. This close, Corvhale could make out the stranger’s familiar features.
“Y-Y-You! Listen to m-me. T-There is a way out, fr-fr-from all of this! The All-”
“Be quiet, you stammer enough when uninjured. And besides, why, even for all the gold in the world, should I even listen to you?” At that, the stranger drew back and turned to look out the window.
“Th-the All-” Corvhale was cut off again as the stranger spun on him in anger.
“Quiet! ‘Th-Th-Th!’ What? Are you a snake now? You turned your back on your god in favour for the jealous One-God? The Allfather is dead! The Children killed him!”
Corvhale sputtered, he could feel his life draining out of him, but he tried one last time to save the student he once loved as his own son.
“Allfather…Alive! Deceiver was th-the one…killed!” Corvhale drew in a shuddering breath. He was succeeding. He could see a slight slump in the assassin’s posture.
“Truly? Perhaps, but you know us Corvhale, our lives are given to Khaine. So it makes no difference, does it?” The assassin turned to look at the fat merchant again. But he was unmoving, not even breathing. The assassin frowned and stroked the pommel jewel of his dagger sheathed at his belt. After a moment, the assassin was seeing things in the infrared spectrum, and he saw the merchant’s body rapidly cooling, a sign of death.
The hilt had the carving of an asp coiled round it, with its head biting a ruby. Unknown to any outside the Drikung order, this enchanted ruby granted its user vision in any spectrum he wished, amongst other abilities that might come in useful to those in the assassination business.
Sighing, the assassin retrieved his katar and cleaned the blood on one of the merchant’s many layers of clothing. It was a curious looking dagger that was actually made of three blades folded into one. When the middle crossbar was squeezed, the blades would open up, much like a pair of scissors.
Returning the katar to its sheath on his left arm, the assassin then turned to leave. As he reached the door he turned and tossed a gold coin in the general direction of the dead merchant. The coin bore the symbol of the Drikung, the royal assassins. So when the body was found later, people would know that this murder was ordered by the royal family.
Standing in front of the house he came out of, Inodhill took in a deep breath of the sea air. And instantly regretted it. So-called ‘fresh’ fish were being unloaded from a ship docked not a score meters from where he was.
His mood now permanently spoiled for the rest of the day, Inodhill drew the hood of his cloak over his head in a huff. There was nothing to see anyway, the whole of the docks was a picture of gloom and grudging acceptance of the way things in life was.
Sighing, Inodhill turned down an alley and disappeared.
***
His contact was over an hour late. As usual. Sitting in a corner booth nursing a mug of warm mead, Inodhill hardly spared a glance as Kohan burst in the inn’s door. Loud and boisterous, you could hear him from over a mile away, but he could be silent when he needed to. Always the performer, he’d timed his entrance with the thunder outside, so in effect, he stepped into the common room with a loud ‘Boom’.
“Humph, some audience you are” Kohan muttered to no one in general. Glancing around, Kohan saw nothing but the usual characters you would find in a tavern set beside a harbor. Half-drunk sailors having a fist fight after months at sea; serving wenches bringing food and drink to sober customers while neatly stepping just out of reach of groping hands; ‘Companions’ from the nearby whorehouse reliving customers of their heavy purses. And the smell of wild pig roasted on a split above the fireplace at the back wall.
After several moments of searching, Kohan finally caught sight of Inodhill and picked his way across the floor, snatching a pitcher of ale from the tray of a passing wench. He countered her glare with a couple of silver coins tossed her way.
“Do you always have to choose the dinkest corner of every inn, tavern, or bar you go to?”
Inodhill eyed Kohan’s face over the rim of his mug, not too sure what to make of that question. Kohan’s grey eyes were wandering all over the room, resting occasionally on particularly well endowed bosoms. Plain featured, with a well disguised charismatic streak in him, he was a good information gatherer, for firstly, he did not stand out in anyone’s memories, and secondly, he had a way of making women talk…And it did not involve gold. Well, not much anyway.
“I sit where I very well choose, what use is free will if we do not use it?” “Heh, what use is your life if you abuse that free will?” Kohan chuckled and waved for Inodhill to be silent. Stroking his own dagger’s hilt and pommel jewel, Kohan murmured and incantation; it took a moment for Inodhill to realize what he had done. Kohan had conjured an orb of privacy around the two of them. That ment that no one outside the orb could hear what was being said inside. But the orb worked both ways, preventing those inside from hearing anything else, other then themselves.
“It is done?” Kohan leaned in close, eyes belying the calm set of his visage.
“Of course it is done, since when have you started asking redundant questions?” Inodhill was slightly annoyed at that question, for a reason he knew not. Kohan had every right to question him on the status of the target. Perhaps it was the manner in which the question was put across, implying that Inodhill was but a dog with its leash tightly held by the matriarchs of Akanista.
Kohan leaned back, obviously relieved. “You do know that the priests of the Allfather would have gained considerable might if they had managed to grouped together and rebuilt the Altar.”
“I care not for the doings of preists of other gods.” Inodhill leaned against the wall and set his soft leather boots on the table, right hand fingering a dart tucked under his tunic.
“Speak you truly? Oho, Your sudden change in posture suggests otherwise, and the fact that your latest mark was once a Drikung makes no difference to you? He was a master too, your master, no less.” Kohan was leaning across the table; his eyes that of a predator waiting for its prey to make a mistake.
Like I said, never predictable, never constant. Dangerous. Inodhill chose his words carefully, you never knew when any of the Mistresses would be listening in on the conversation with the aid of magic.
“I kill who I must, when I must. I am bound by the blood oath demanded by Khaine at the Altar.” Kohan’s piercing grays widened at Inodhill’s formal tone, then narrowed into a glare.
"Even Avenda? The whole monastery knows of you two, Inodhill, don’t feign innocence.”
Inodhill was mildly surprised at that statement. He knew that the whole cadre of assassins would find out eventually, but not this quickly. Once again, he’d underestimated the power of gossip aided by female enthusiasm. Women…He could scarce keep his forthcoming sigh in check.
A wave of sound flowed in between them. The daggers had useful enchantments, to be sure, but they lacked the power required to sustain them over long periods of time.
“Well?” Kohan was tapping his pewter cup somewhat impatiently.
“Even Avenda, But rest assured, she would not betray Matriarch Lucille, may she live forever.”
“You seem awfully quick to come to her un-called for defense…”
“I tire of this Kohan. You know full well where our loyalties lie, mine and Avenda’s, and you know too, that we are unable to betray our mistresses, even if we wanted to. Now state the details of my next mission and be gone!” Inodhill was still in his lounged position, his hands were still relaxed, there was no indication that he was about to strike, but those who knew him were wise enough not to try their luck.
“Very well, Purple Asp,” Kohan grinned, using Inodhill’s code name, “Your next mission should be easy enough for you. Mistress Kimianne likens it to plucking berries. ” He paused, and started his infernal tapping again. Inodhill was about to toss his mug of mead in his face when he noted a particular rhythm to the tapping. It was a code. Kohan began to speak again.
“Return to the monastery within 2 weeks,” Do not return so soon."You are free to do as you please till then. But you know the rules.”It is a trap. Meet me in two nights. Edge of forest.
It had been sometime since Inodhill had the occasion to use this code, so it took him a little while to decipher the code while listening to Kohan’s spoken instructions. Inodhill blinked. A trap? What in Khaine’s unholy spit is Kohan talking about? Inodhill sighed and double tapped the table. An affirmative sign.
Kohan gave a ghost of a smile and rose from his seat. He had not gone two steps when a serving wench intercepted him with a coy brush of his arm. It was the same wench he’d tossed the coins at. And she was looking decidedly friendlier.
Inodhill could not help but shake his head at the sight. Kohan exchanged a few sentences with the wench, mostly promises of passion, and looked back at Inodhill, thinking to show off his new catch of the night, but Inodhill had already left, unseen, unheard. Kohan snorted and headed for the rooms on the second level, arm around the girl.
No comments:
Post a Comment