“The other side of the river is far nicer; bigger homes, it’s where the people with real money live. Maybe once you’re done with your business with Mallice, I can show you what real luxury looks like. Ever had sex in a bed of solid gold?” Loren was trying his best to boast to Ariadna of his obvious wealth. What the idiot did not seem to realise was the vital information he had just let pass his lips.
Ariadna got out of bed and went for a corner table with bottles of alcohol, along with real crystal glass to pour the drinks into. She chose a fine rum and poured two glasses. Knowing Loren was watching, Ariadna swayed her hips again and as expected, the man dropped his gaze to Ari buttocks. Ari took his diverted attention as an opportunity to remove an earring she had been wearing, she crushed it in her fingers and dropped it into one of the glasses.
When she turned to face Loren again, Ariadna made sure the rum swayed around in the glass as she walked. By the time she got back into bed and handed Loren his drink, the powder she had added in had already mixed with the rum.
Loren did not think twice about the drink and he took a generous gulp, once, twice. He downed his drink and placed his glass down onto a small table beside the bed.
Ariadna sipped at her own rum with care.
“A manor house across the river, you say?” she began.
Loren felt his head go funny, and he coughed, slamming a hand down against his chest. "I always forget which one it is.” he replied and laughed afterwards.
Ariadna placed her unfinished drink beside Loren’s and went in search of her clothes.
“Think hard, Loren. Think hard.” she sang, whilst pulling her undergarments on and then her fighting leathers.
Loren rolled over and buried his face into the silk of a pillow. He let out an irritated moan as a sharp pain struck him on the left side of his head.
“Red tiles. His roof has red tiles; that’s how I always remember. His wife has a rose garden too, which you can see past the iron gates. She doesn’t even look after those damn roses herself. Why have them? It’s quite a trek though; can’t have someone as important as Mallice living too close to this shit hole.” he paused to laugh. “As though Mallice would ever be sighted in the centre of Forta for longer than he has to be. The outskirts of the city are much nicer, so much open space,”
Ariadna swept her hair back up into its usual ponytail, only half listening, and she looked down at the pitiful state she had left her latest victim in. Oh well, her business with Loren was done and she was satisfied in more than one way. She latched her belt around her hips again before kneeling down to rummage through a leather backpack she had spied behind the door.
Maps, a set of a dozen keys and a fine-looking journal. Maybe Ariadna could give it to Preeya, to keep the priestess busy. As long as it kept her distracted whilst Ari went about with her contract.
Loren sat up in one clumsy mess and his gaze followed the assassin as she went to leave, for he could not get up to do so himself.
“You aren’t staying?” he asked. Loren dropped back down onto the bed and clutched his hair with shaking hands; this time the pain hit his head all over.
“No,” Ariadna began. There came the clicking of a lock. “Unfortunately for you, I’m done here.” she flashed Loren a smile and left him be as he began to pant and sweat. Ariadna had made it downstairs and back to where Preeya sat by the time Loren gave in and the poison Ari had dropped into his drink took the last of his breath right out of him.
23 –
Troian
The Mercenaries left that night, slipping away from the others as they stopped for some much-needed sleep.
Troian and Artus had been careful not wake Kholo or his men as they saddled their mounts, packed enough food to get them to the next city and walked their horses a safe distance away from camp before even getting on. The last thing they needed was a snort of annoyance from their horses waking the others.
The desert remained covered in a dark blanket of stars but, already a break in the sky signalled the oncoming arrival of day. A warm breeze swept past the men as they rode hard and fast; with scarves wrapped around their faces to keep any sand from blowing into their mouths and drying out their throats.
This was madness. This was dangerous…I will not provide a lamb for the sacrifice, Troian thought to himself despite his fears.
After an hour or two of hard riding, the horses had protested. They could have gone on for longer but, their masters did not want to risk being caught and had pushed them too far. The beasts needed to rest even if only for a few minutes. “We’re pressing our luck, Troi.” Artus said as he gave his horse a hefty pat on her neck. When the horse rubbed her muzzle against Artus’ cheek, the mercenary could not help but laugh as he pressed a kiss against his horse’s forehead. “Thami is getting restless. Aren’t you, girl?”
When Artus did not say anymore and instead he stood by his horse in a chilling silence, Troian turned to face his brother-in-arms.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked him.
Artus did not shift his gaze to Troian as he replied. “What kind of religion does Kanra follow, which would require him to sacrifice innocent girls to his gods?”
“A fucked-up religion which shouldn’t even exist.” Troian muttered as he tightened his saddlebags on his own horse, Thailo. He worked with such anger that the leather straps of the bags rubbed against his fingers and burned them. Troian drew his hands away to let the sting in his fingers cool.
“Kholo knows we’re gone. I wonder what his reaction was once having found out. He’ll kill us as traitors if he ever finds us again.” Artus said. He inhaled sharply, taking in the salty smell of the sand beneath his boots.
“You’re making it seem like we’re the criminals, Art. With our jobs we’re murderers, yes but, we’ve never held a woman or child at knife point. Now Kholo is expecting us to herd a group of young girls as though they were cattle.” Troian paused a moment. “All ready for slaughter.”
Artus retrieved his canteen from a saddlebag of his own. He pulled out a sugar cube and fed it to Thami from his palm, sending a loving smooching sound her way when she took it. The saliva she left on Artus’ hand from her tongue was warm against his skin; as though the surrounding air was not hot enough already.
“If we can get to Zhadaewae,” he began.
“But what of the priestesses?” Troian asked. He left his own horse and approached his comrade. “We aren’t just going to leave these girls to die, are we? We can’t. We can’t help them ourselves and Kholo’s mercenaries have gone with him to carry out the contract.”
Artus slid his canteen back into his saddlebag and pulled out a small parcel of dried pork. He took a generous piece and handed the food to Troian. When he bit into it, he found he had to wriggle it around in the grip of his teeth before the meat tore. He chewed it with care.
“What do you suggest we do instead? With Kholo gone, we could always return to Zhadaewae and get help but, that might take too long. Damn, it will take too long.” Artus was growing worried and death making him nervous, especially if it were not his own, was not a common occurrence at all. A piece of dried pork lodged itself in between Artus’ teeth. As he stood there trying to remove it, Troian left his own piece hanging from his mouth as he thought long and hard.
“We kill the source.” Troian muttered. Pushing the entire piece of pork into his mouth, Troian gagged a little before chewing and finally swallowing it. He found a small journal within his saddle bag and flipped through it.
Artus, meanwhile, stood swatting a damn fly away as it tried to land on his nose. “What are you doing?” he asked his comrade.
Troian said nothing for the moment, save for the muttering under his breath. “I marked down our departure from Vhorgo. We had left on the Thursday, hours after I had witnessed Kanra’s late night sacrifice. It’s now Saturday, meaning,”
“Kanra will sacrifice another girl in five days?” Artus asked.
Troian felt his hand turn sweaty around t
he thick pencil he had packed with him.
“Thursday is the day of Distretia, the goddess of death. That’s who the sacrifices are for; that means each day must be dedicated to one of Kanra’s fucked up gods.” Troian packed his pencil and journal away in a clumsy panic. He swung himself back up onto his horse and watched as Artus followed. “We can make it to Forta by the end of the day, find an inn to stay in for the night. Then we should ride on to Zhadaewae - and pray we make it there in time to persuade the others to help.”
“Before Kholo returns and names us traitors. We’ll lose our heads for it.” Artus added in.
Troian went to secure his scarf around his face but, shook his head at his comrade. “Not before he cuts off every other part of us first.” he replied and then clicked his tongue.
Thailo sped off without question, leaving behind a cloud of dust and sand. He appeared to sense his master’s urgency, and his fear, for the loyal beast did not falter in his tracks as he carried Troian on the long journey ahead to Forta.
24 –
Preeya
Ariadna had not spoken to Preeya since leaving the inn. She could not risk the girl lecturing her about the value of life and how it was not her place to give or take it; in other words the assassin had not told Preeya of her contract. The thing that Ari did not understand was, Preeya knew who she was and what she did.
Yet even now, the girl did not come to terms with why she did any of it and that was a story Ariadna was not willing to share with Preeya.
“Where are we going?” the Priestess asked. Her arms were wrapped around Ari’s chest and she held on tight, for fear of Atha suddenly rearing up and sending her toppling off.
“Stop asking that question.” Ariadna replied. “And whilst you’re at it, stop flattening my breasts.”
Preeya moved her arms down to the assassin’s waist and held onto her there, mumbling something along the lines of an apology. She dropped her gaze to the ground beneath her and watched as a light wind blew leaves and debris across a badly paved road.
“Will you teach me how to be more confident?” Preeya sent her questions in a different direction.
Ariadna snorted at that. “Confident in what way? I don’t even think you know what confidence is, girl.”
Preeya frowned in offense. “I can always learn! You did.” she argued back.
Ariadna clicked her tongue twice and Atha picked up her pace. “But you aren’t me, are you? Yes, confidence can be learned but, not when you’ve been stuck as a virgin priestess who isn’t even willing to try anything. I’m a bitter individual who’s had a lot of shit on her mind for these past few years so, unless there’s some dark part of your past I don’t know about,” she paused to roll her eyes. “Helping you gain some confidence is easier said than done – and I don’t have the time to waste on helping you with such a thing. Well, I’d tried to at the inn but,”
“Ari, sending me to a whore was in no way helpful.” Preeya replied.
“Oh,” the assassin began. “So I’m Ari to you now? Only those who are close enough can call me that.”
Preeya shrugged, even though she knew the assassin did not see such a gesture. “I’m sorry. It’s just a name,”
“Well, it’s my name.” Ariadna snapped at her. She gave Atha a gentle tug on the reigns and the horse stopped. “It’s my identity! My name is sacred to me, Ariadna Vikander – not some stupid name given to me by the damned convent I had been sent to as a child.”
Preeya felt her eyes burn with what was the beginning of tears. “And my name is Preeya Atanna. A name is just a name, Ariadna. Yes, it may be the only thing that lives on after us but, it’s the deeds we do that are just as important as a name.” she replied. “Are you not ashamed that you are going to go down as a murderer?”
Ariadna felt so damn tempted to shove Preeya off her horse but, she did not want to deal with any broken ribs at this moment. She clicked her tongue again and Atha moved off once more. “Say another word until we get to where we need to be and I’ll open your throat with the sharpest blade I own.”
Preeya did not know what to think in response. She needed to remain by Ari’s side, should she want to survive but, her brutal attitude and cruel behaviour was off putting beyond words.
She really is a brute, Preeya thought to herself. But I pity her, far too much to admit. I pity what she has become – and what she may eventually become, if she does not reconcile with her past.
In the distance, tucked away behind manicured hedges and a strong iron gate, stood the home of Ariadna’s bastard father.
Arin Vikander knew how to earn a decent coin and he was even better at spending it. His house stood the proudest amongst any others but also the farthest away. Mother Nature had worked in Ariadna’s favour as it hid the manor house from any prying eyes.
This should be nice and easy, the assassin thought. Although, it sounded more like wishful thinking than anything else. Ariadna was a brilliant assassin but, even she faced downfalls at times.
“This is a beautiful home.” Preeya whispered, too afraid to voice her opinion any louder for fear of angering Ari again.
Ariadna slid off her horse, steadying the priestess as she nearly went falling. Taking hold of Atha’s reigns, she urged her horse to follow and led the beast to where an apple tree in Arin's garden had grown over the hedge and now hung a decent distance over the fence.
“If only the owner was as nice.” Ariadna replied with a small laugh. It did not ease her nerves – she could not recall the last time she had looked upon her father’s face, had taken in the sound of his voice nor heard him call her his daughter.
“Who lives inside?” Preeya asked and went to find her way off the horse.
Ariadna’s hand was on her waist in an instant, pushing her back up.
“That doesn’t concern you. You’re going to stay here, silent as a fucking grave, and wait for me to return. Do I make myself clear?” she instructed.
Preeya’s eyes widened. “You’re going to leave me here alone?” she asked. Her hands trembled but, she was not too sure if it was from the sudden chill which had sprung out of nowhere or if it was nerves. Perhaps it was both?
Ariadna lifted her gaze to where Preeya remained quaking on Atha’s back. She dug her fingers into the leather of the saddle, a weak attempt to control her temper. Ariadna’s patience was wearing thin with this priestess. “Yes.” she replied. Ari unsheathed an extra dagger from Atha’s saddle and strapped it into a deep pocket on the inside of her left thigh. “We’re alone, okay? No one is going to just appear and kidnap you. Although I think on my part that would be a blessing. Look, I have a job I need to do.”
“You’re going to kill someone?” Preeya asked. It was not exactly a question but, the obvious answer she was expecting from Ariadna was one she prayed was not true. “Is it someone you know?”
Ariadna would not meet her gaze, but the flicker in her jaw as it tensed was enough of an answer.
“It’s your father isn’t it, everyone knows he was the one that gave you away to the Convent.” What kind of woman would kill her own father? Ariadna Vikander, apparently, Preeya thought bitterly. “Please, don’t.” Preeya begged. Even though this man, Arin, was not her own father; Preeya felt obliged to beg for his life if she could.
Ariadna did not concern herself with the girl’s pleas. She secured the rest of her weapons twice over and then turned to find a way in.
“Ari!” Preeya hissed. She felt her fingers grip the reigns of Ariadna’s horse as the assassin continued to stalk away. “Ariadna Vikander, will you listen to me?” she tried again. This time, she raised her voice as loud as she could, without the risk of getting caught and it was enough to have the assassin turning back and approaching her like a storm.
Ariadna took hold of Preeya by the face, her fingers pressing hard enough against her cheeks to leave fingerprints. “Shut up.” she hissed back. “You will not mess this up for me, do you understand?”
Preeya, feeling bold, s
hoved her hand away. “This isn’t right, or fair, to murder your own father. If he was cruel to you, then I apologise on his behalf but,”
“You have no say in this. If you don’t like what I’m doing, then you can fuck off back to your precious convent and hide in that dingy hole of a house you once called home. I have my own business to settle.” she paused to rub the bridge of her nose. “And who said life was ever fair? It isn’t. Life isn’t supposed to be - that’s why death is the sweetest thing and it’s a blessing given to us at the end of our wretched lives. There is nothing on this earth worth living for, nothing!”
Preeya bit back her tears. She had never heard such words from someone as angry and thoughtless as Ariadna.
“You clearly haven’t found anything worth living for just yet. I know that you’re destined for great things, Ariadna but, this is just,” Preeya began.
Ariadna worked hard to contain her laughter. “Love? Are you suggesting that love is the answer to my anger? No, love – or perhaps the lack of it – is exactly what has caused me to be angry. It’s stupid, it’s unreliable. Now, keep quiet and stay here.”
“Or what?” Preeya dared to ask once Ari had turned to leave again. “You’ll kill me?” There was an unsettling silence. It did not last long. “I think you’re afraid, Ariadna Vikander. I think what scares you the most is that you know how to let go of this anger inside you – it’s not that you can’t, it’s that you don’t want to.” Preeya whispered.
Ariadna faced the priestess for the last time and unsheathed one of her daggers. Grabbing hold of Preeya’s hand, she sliced her palm – not deep enough to need stitches but, enough to make her squeal. “That ought to keep your mind occupied whilst I’m gone.” Ariadna wiped her dagger clean and pointed it at Preeya in warning before sheathing it for good and leaving to go about her business.
The Anari Page 10