The Assassin

by Trudie Collins

  “Tell me anyway,” Tor replied, “because right now I am out of any ideas, let alone good ones.”

  “One of us should act as bait.”

  Patrick did not get the response he had been expecting. Instead of angry abuse, numerous comments floated around the group. “It is a good suggestion.” “It may be worth the risk.” “It might be our only option right now.”

  “Who did you have in mind?” Tor asked.

  “I had not thought it through that far,” Patrick admitted. “I was hoping someone would come up with something better.”

  “Alright,” Tor said to the group. “Everyone get your thinking caps on. I need suggestions on how we can safely put Patrick’s idea into action. We will discuss it again after we have crossed the border.”

  They travelled until dawn, making camp as soon as Hawk retreated to his coffin. The day passed uneventfully and they began their journey once more long before nightfall.

  River had been asleep for a long time and Ellen was beginning to worry. She had never used a sleeping draught on a water sprite before and was afraid she had used too much. The next time they stopped for a short break, she went to the back of the wagon where River had been bedded down next to Hawk’s coffin and gently shook her. Much to her relief, her young patient opened her eyes.

  “Where are we?” she asked in a soft voice.

  “Heading towards Emvale,” Ellen informed her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Thirsty.” Ellen had been expecting this and handed her a water container, warning her not to drink it too quickly. “What happened with Grimmel?” she asked when her throat had been lubricated.

  “He is travelling with us.”

  “What!” River exclaimed and got to her feet. Looking around, she spied him talking with Brin and stomped over to him. “You complete and utter bastard,” she screamed at him, grabbing his beard and using it to yank his head around towards her. “You lied to me. How could you?”

  “I did not lie,” he started to protest, but his words were cut off as she slapped him hard around the face. Brin winced at the sound of the impact. “Do not speak to me,” River ordered. “I never want to hear your voice again.” She made her way over to Tor, demanding that he lend her a horse.

  “Why do you want a horse?” he asked her mildly.

  “To go back home. There is no way I am going to be travelling with him.” She pointed angrily at Grimmel, who was rubbing his cheek.

  “You need to calm down and think this through,” Tor told her reasonably. “Being alone and unprotected is not a good idea right now.”

  “Leave this to us,” Sam said, taking River gently by the arm and leading her away, signalling to the other women that they should follow as she did so. Exactly what was said, Tor never found out, but by the time the women returned, River was back in control of herself and agreed to stay with them.

  “I am glad you came to your senses,” Grimmel said, relieved that he would still be able to protect her. River did not even acknowledge that he had spoken.

  “Sorry Grimmel, but she still wants nothing to do with you,” Ria informed him. “She plans on pretending you do not exist and I have promised to keep you away from her.” She playfully showed him one of the knives she had secreted about her person as she spoke.

  “We will talk about this later,” Grimmel hissed at Ria as he watched River climb into the wagon beside Seth and Dal. He made to follow her, but Patrick grabbed his arm.

  “You can ride with me,” he informed him and dragged him over to his horse. “I will give you some advice on women as we go,” he told his short companion.

  “I would not listen to anything he has to say,” Ellen advised Grimmel as Patrick lifted him onto the back of the horse.

  “I never said it was going to be good advice,” Patrick said, winking at her before riding away.

  From his hiding place on the other side of the river, Nizari, the assassin, watched his foes depart. He had arrived at Quartilla’s father’s estate just as she and Nosmas were leaving and had barely had time to hide before they passed him. He had been tracking them ever since, waiting for an opportunity to attack. He knew Nosmas’s reputation of being a skilled wizard and did not want to take any chances.

  The girl would have been easy. He had been asking around and the locals had informed him that she went riding alone each morning. He had made plans to kill her with a dart from a blow pipe and make it look like she had simply fallen off her horse, but he had arrived too late. He did not berate himself. It would just be a waste of time and energy. Besides, there was no way he could have known that Nosmas would come back to collect her so soon after returning her to her father.

  Instead, he had followed them to Eshden forest and had witnessed them joining up with a number of others who were on his list of targets. He knew all of their names, but preferred to refer to them by the codenames he had assigned to them. He had always assigned his victims a codename, ever since his days in the training academy, back before he had broken the rules and had been expelled from the guild.

  The Wizard and the Girl had been joined by the Guide and the Elf; the others had soon followed: the Witch, the Dead Man, the Lady, the Servant, the Thief, the coffin that had to contain the Bloodsucker and, of course, the Prince. He had been particularly pleased to see the Elf leave his homeland as he was yet to find anyone who had ever been able to enter the forest without being caught.

  Nizari had known for a while that the Guide, the Bloodsucker and the Witch had been staying with the Dead Man on his island and it had been an added bonus to find one from Brodin’s list of companions was also with them. A simple explosion at the castle would eliminate a number of his victims in one easy go.

  Failing to find a way onto the island, he had decided to go after an easier target first: the Girl. Now those he sought were no longer safely encamped inside the Dead Man’s castle, making them easier prey.

  He had continued to follow them, observing them picking up the Water Maiden, and now they also had the Dwarf. All of those still on the list of Prince Tor and his companions were now in one place, except for the Blind Man, whom he had still not managed to trace. Everyone else who had travelled with Tor was already dead.

  He was concerned that the man from Brodin’s list who had been staying on the island had disappeared, but that was a problem that could wait for another day, once everyone else had been taken care of.

  Instead of retrieving his horse and continuing his hunt, he remained where he was for a while. His prey were on the other side of the river, but were following its course and would continue to do so for a while longer yet, so he had no doubt that he would easily find them again. After all, they were making no attempt to hide their trail. Now that they were all together, he would need to change his tactics. Killing them off one by one and still making it look like a series of accidents would have been easy; killing them all together would make it much harder to conceal their murders. He needed to find a way to commit mass murder without anyone suspecting the deaths were anything out of the ordinary.

  Time passed as he thought through his options. He considered starting a war, but decided this was too extreme. He needed something more ordinary. Then a smile came to his lips. “Perfect,” he said to himself and stood up to find his horse.

  Chapter 10

  They were still a day’s travel from the border into Emvale when Dal came up with a good idea. It was early evening, the sun had yet to set, and they were sitting around the fire, relaxing. They had ridden for longer that morning than they usually did, so nobody was in a hurry to mount up once more. So far the journey had been peaceful, apart from the fact that River was still acting as though Grimmel did not exist. Others had tried to put forward his side of the story, but she refused to listen. As far as she was concerned, he was a married man and had no right to be involved with another woman. He had made her feel like nothing more than a common mistress and she would never forgive him for that.

  “We should go
and visit Brodin,” Dal said. “He can use his spy network to track down the assassin for us.”

  Tor sat up. “What spy network?” he asked casually. He was well aware that the royal family of Remeny had spies in most countries, if not all, but it was a closely guarded secret that nobody outside of the royal household was supposed to know about.

  Dal gave him a withering look and sighed dramatically. “Have you forgotten I am family?”

  “Oh,” was all he said as he was too proud to admit that he had. For a long while he had regarded Dal as Seth’s wife rather than his cousin’s daughter.

  “What is this?” Sam asked, intrigued.

  “The royal family does run a spy network,” Tor reluctantly admitted. “Why are some of you not surprised?” he asked when a few of his friends showed no reaction.

  “Tor my friend,” Seth said, placing his hand on the larger man’s shoulder. “I have lived and worked by your side for almost as long as I can remember. Do you really think there are still secrets I do not know about?”

  Patrick shrugged his shoulders. “I was told about them by your grandfather, or was it your great grandfather?”

  “Ellen?” Tor asked, determined to find out exactly how all of his friends knew what was supposed to be only known by those with royal Remeny blood.

  “Patrick and I talk.”

  “Nosmas?”

  The wizard smiled slyly at him. “Do you really think the council of wizards are not fully informed of everything that is going on in other countries? They are aware that not only do your kin have spies, they know exactly which ones are currently stationed in Thauma and make sure they are never present at any important meetings.”

  Tor groaned. “And I suppose you told Quartilla?”

  “No,” Quartilla disagreed. “This is the first I have heard about it.”

  “Good. Now mention it to no-one. River, Grimmel, I take it you did not know.” They shook their heads. Tor turned to Brin. “Your uncle told you?” The elf nodded. Finally Tor looked at Ria. “Please tell me this is the first you have heard about it.”

  “Sorry,” she said, smiling sweetly at him. “I broke into your castle once, while your father was still alive, and accidently saw some documents that mentioned spies in Kavern so I assumed they would be everywhere.”

  Tor’s jaw dropped. “Are you telling me you managed to get into the King’s study undetected?” Ria nodded. “That room is more secure than any other in the entire country. How, may I ask, did you do it?”

  “Simple. I climbed.”

  “But that room is at the top of the tower. You had to climb up ten floors.”

  “I know,” Ria said smugly. “I never said it was easy.”

  Tor shook his head. “Then Dal is right, we have to change course and go to Remeny, even if only to warn my brother that his study is not as secure as he thinks.”

  A while later, once darkness had descended and Hawk arose, Sam told him about the change of course and the reasons for it.

  “I wondered how long it would take someone to think of using the spy network,” he said. Sam decided not to mention this to Tor; he had had a bad enough day as it was.

  They travelled all night and part way into the next morning before stopping near a fork in the road. There was a large clearing next to it that would make a good campsite so they decided to sleep for a few hours before taking the road that led to Remeny.

  Breakfast was almost ready when a stranger rode by and stopped to greet them. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully. “I do not mean to be rude, but that smells wonderful. Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Be our guest,” Tor told him. “We have more than enough to go round.”

  The stranger dismounted and removed a package from a bag strapped to his horse before instructing it to graze by the riverbank. The package contained a couple of freshly baked loaves, which went down very well with the bacon Seth was frying.

  “Where are you headed?” the stranger asked casually as he ate. “I myself am headed into Dannavon and have heard rumours of bandits near the border. If you are also going that way, would it be possible for me to travel with you until we are in safer territory?”

  “Sorry my friend,” Patrick said, “but we are taking the other path. Remeny is our destination.”

  “Never mind. Hopefully the rumours are not true.” He swallowed his last mouthful then stood up. “I must be on my way. Thank you for your hospitality and I hope the rest of your journey is trouble free.”

  The stranger retrieved his horse, made sure his bag was still held on securely, then climbed onto the animal’s back. Waving as he passed, he took the road to Dannavon and was soon out of sight.

  “Fools,” Nizari muttered to himself as he continued down the road. “They are far too trusting. Only an idiot would reveal his destination if he knew he was being hunted by a professional killer.” During the journey he had managed to get close to their campsite one evening and had overheard them discussing him. He was unhappy that they knew, or at least suspected, that he was tracking them, but there was nothing he could do about it so he put it from his mind. It would, however, make killing them harder.

  He crossed the border into Emvale, then headed west towards Dannavon. The bandits he had mentioned were more than just rumours. He knew for a fact that lone travellers were being attacked soon after leaving Emvale. King Allias was also aware of this and his soldiers regularly patrolled the border, but as the attacks always happened once the travellers were inside Dannavon, he was powerless to do anything about them.

  Choosing a trail that he knew went through areas that contained many hiding places, he was not in the least surprised when he rounded a bend and found his path blocked by a number of armed men.

  “Get off your horse and walk forward with your hands in the air,” one of them demanded. He was a thickset man with a full black beard and long black hair and in one hand he held a cutlass. The other hand contained a flail, which he swung menacingly around his head as he spoke.

  Nizari smiled. “There is no need for threats gentlemen. I have a proposition I think you will be most interested in hearing.”

  The journey towards Remeny was long and tedious. River continued to put as much distance between herself and Grimmel as possible and his disposition became more and more sour as the days passed. Eventually Tor had had enough and dragged the two of them aside. Somehow he managed to remain calm as he tried, once again, to convince River to forgive the dwarf, but to no avail. Next he tried threatening her, telling her she either needed to start speaking to Grimmel or he would send her alone and unprotected back to her father. She called his bluff and said she would retrieve her belongings from the back of the wagon and start walking at once. The only thing that stopped her was Grimmel declaring that he would not allow her to expose herself to that kind of danger and would follow her wherever she went.

  Tor sent her back to join the others and turned his attention to Grimmel. He pointed out that he was bringing the mood of the entire group down and he either had to improve his temperament or leave. Grimmel reiterated that he would follow River no matter what Tor decided and stomped off. He did, however, make an attempt at lightening his mood and started answering in more friendly tones when spoken to.

  A few hours later, Tor called for a halt. They had reached a perfect position to set up camp and, although the sun had only recently risen, he decided they should stop early that day. Sam and Brin volunteered for first watch once more and a few hours later were relieved by Ellen and Patrick.

  “Where are you going?” Patrick asked as Brin and Sam headed towards the trees beside which they were camped.

  “I thought I heard something so we are going to check it out.”

  “Yeah, right,” Patrick whispered to Ellen once they were out of sight, making her laugh quietly.

  Brin and Sam moved silently between the trees; well Brin moved silently, Sam made as little noise as she could. They had not gone far when sounds of movement could be hear
d all around them and Brin signalled for Sam to remain still.

  “We have you surrounded,” a voice sounded from behind them. They whirled around to find themselves facing the stranger who had shared a meal with them a few days before. Brin loaded his bow, the arrow aimed at the man’s heart. “I would not do that if I were you,” the man continued calmly. He whistled once and Sam found herself grabbed from behind, a sword at her throat.

  “Drop the bow,” the man who had hold of her sneered.

  Ignoring the instruction, Brin slowly moved sideways until he was equidistant from his two enemies, the arrow pointing at Sam. “Do you trust me?” he asked her.

  She tried to nod her head, the movement so small that it was almost unnoticeable. Even so, the sword pierced the skin and a tiny drop of blood trickled down.

  Without taking his eyes off Sam, Brin released the arrow, shooting the bandit in the eye, killing him instantly. Feeling herself free, Sam ran towards Brin, who sent another arrow flying in the direction of the assassin, who only just managed to dodge it in time. He was astounded by the speed with which the elf had managed to reload, but did not let this distract him as he threw a knife at Sam.

  Brin reacted instinctively, barrelling her to the ground and rolling her out of its way. He was not quick enough and the knife embedded itself in his thigh, causing him to cry out in pain. Before either of them could stand up, a number of armed men arrived, all with swords or clubs. They made no move to attack, so Brin ignored them, gritting his teeth as he pulled the knife from his leg. It was a deep wound, but had not severed an artery so was not life threatening. At least not yet.

  Oblivious to the men around her, much to their pleasure, Sam took off her blouse and tore it into strips, using part of it to form a pad and the rest to bandage it in place. “It’s not great, but it’s the best I can do for now,” Sam said gently. “Can you stand?”

  Brin nodded and she helped him to his feet, though he was unable to put any weight on his injured leg.