The Assassin

by Trudie Collins

  “Are you ready to die now?” Nizari asked, putting his ear close to Patrick’s mouth in case he was still able to whisper his reply. Patrick opened his mouth, moved his head forward then clamped down on the assassin’s earlobe, sinking his teeth deep into the loose flesh.

  Nizari yelled out in pain and punched Patrick in the face. He continued punching until Patrick released his hold on him, then stepped back out of his reach, cradling his injured ear in his hand.

  “You will regret that,” he sneered. He picked the bowl up from where he had placed it on the floor. There was not much of the paste left, but there was enough for what he had in mind. “The pain you have experienced so far is nothing compared to what is to come.”

  Patrick could only watch in horror as the assassin held open one of his eye lids and smeared half of the remaining paste onto his eyeball.

  Chapter 18

  “Maybe we should ask around and see if anyone knows where Isma is staying,” Quartilla suggested.

  “Good idea,” Seth agreed. “People would definitely remember seeing that woman.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Dal glaring at him, but he didn’t turn to look at her.

  “Alternatively, we can just ask her ourselves,” Brin said, pointing down the road.

  Everyone turned to see a horse galloping towards them. They could make out that a woman was riding it, but not much else.

  “Are you sure that is her?” Tor asked doubtfully. He knew the elf had superior eyesight, but could not believe he could recognise the rider at that distance.

  “Positive,” Brin said.

  “She is coming in fast,” Nosmas observed. “How do we get her to stop?”

  “I will speak to her horse,” Sam volunteered and as soon as the mount was close enough to hear her call out, she ordered it to stop. The horse was so surprised at being addressed in its own tongue that it instinctively obeyed, skidding to a stop just in front of the assembled group. Isma was not expecting the sudden deceleration and was thrown to the ground, landing near Tor’s feet.

  “Are you alright?” he asked with fake sincerity, holding out his hand and helping her to her feet. He had been expecting her to scream or try to get away as soon as she recognised him, but she didn’t.

  “Thank the heavens I have found you,” she stammered. She was pale and could not stop shaking. Something had upset her and it was not just the fall.

  “Get her something strong to drink,” Tor commanded as he led her to the wagon and made her sit down. Seth found a bottle of his home brew and handed it to her, warning her to only sip it. She did as instructed and started to choke the moment it hit her throat. As soon as she recovered she took another sip before handing the bottle back to Seth. “My brother, the assassin who has been trying to kill you, has Patrick,” she announced.

  “We suspected as much. Why are you telling us this?” Tor spoke to her gently. She was obviously terrified of something, but he did not think it was him.

  Tears filled her eyes and she began to sob. “I did not know what he had planned, I swear. I only agreed to help him get Patrick alone as payback for turning me down. I thought he was only going to kill him.”

  “What do you mean ‘only kill him’?” Ellen asked. “What is he doing to him?”

  Isma could not look at her when she replied, keeping her eyes on Tor instead. “He is torturing him. And he will not stop until Patrick begs to be killed.”

  “But Patrick will never do that,” Ellen almost screamed.

  Only then did Isma look at her. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  “Take us to him,” Brin commanded, but Isma shook her head.

  “No way. I am never going near that place again.”

  “Alright,” Ria said. “Tell us how to get there.” Isma did as requested, providing directions that were easy to follow. The only problem would be finding the cave in the dark, but Hawk, who had just risen, was confident he would be able to find it.

  Tor looked at his friends and was filled with indecision. Splitting up the group was a risk, but he did not want to be slowed down by the wagon. Deciding that getting to Patrick was more important than anything else, he began issuing orders.

  “Brin, would you mind looking after the ladies while we go and rescue Patrick?” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ria bristle, but ignored her. “Take them back to the inn and book rooms for tonight and tomorrow. No matter what state we find Patrick in, we will not be leaving any time soon.”

  He turned to Dal. “Your job is to look after Isma. Keep her with you at all times. I do not think she is in any fit state to run away, but I want you to make sure she is still here when we return, just in case she is leading us on a wild goose chase.”

  Next he addressed Sam and Quartilla. “Please make sure River and Grimmel get settled back into the inn safely and then keep them under constant guard.” They both nodded their heads. Neither wanted to accompany Tor and were glad to be given a task that would occupy them, at least for a short while.

  Ria was next. “I presume you will be coming with us,” he said before she could begin to argue with him. She closed her mouth and nodded her head.

  “Ellen,” he started to say, but she interrupted him.

  “I know what you are going to say, so do not waste your breath. No matter what state Patrick is in, he is going to need my skills. I am coming with you and you cannot stop me.”

  Tor thought about arguing, but decided it would be a waste of time. “Then mount up,” he called out.

  Sam, Brin, Quartilla and Dal watched them ride away, only heading off to the inn once they were out of sight. Isma was still unable to stop herself from shaking and willingly agreed to accompany them. She had no idea if Patrick was still alive, or what would be done to her if he was not, but at that moment she would rather have the company of people who might kill her than be on her own.

  Patrick had fainted once again, unable to cope with the pain, so Nizari had decided to get some fresh air. It was a warm, cloudless night and from his position he would be able to spot his sister coming back. He was getting very hungry and hoped she would not be long.

  A large bird sounded from up above him and he raised his head, hoping to see it in flight. He was a ruthless, efficient killer, but that did not stop him having a soft spot for birds of prey. He had a lot of respect for them and greatly enjoyed watching them spread their wings and glide on air currents.

  A noise brought his attention back to the roadway down which he expected his sister to appear and he began to swear loudly. Horses were coming in his direction, fast. He momentarily debated returning to Patrick and killing him, but decided he did not have time. “You idiot,” he reprimanded himself. “You should never have let it get personal.” He had lost an opportunity to kill one of his targets by choosing to torture him instead. He had let his personal vengeance get in the way of the mission. This was something he had never done before. It was unprofessional and he swore it would never happen again.

  He ran to the cave, grabbed his bag and left again. He was having to leave behind his pet snake as well as the collar, but he could not risk being caught while he retrieved them. He had no idea how he had been found, but that was something he could think about once he was safely away. With luck, all of those closing in on him would check on Patrick instead of looking for his trail as he did not have time to hide the evidence of his passing. He jumped onto his horse and rode away as fast as he could without risking the horse losing its footing and throwing him, all the while cursing himself for his stupidity.

  Hawk easily found the cave that Isma had described and led the others to it. There was no sign of the assassin, but there was enough evidence around to indicate he had been there in the not too distant past. They lit torches and, finding nothing of interest in the cave, entered the tunnel.

  The cavern they found themselves in looked more like a bedroom than a cave. It was decked out with a bed, a large wooden chest, numerous piles of linen and clothes, coo
king implements and crockery. There were even rugs on the floor. Someone had obviously been using this as a home from time to time. Whoever owned all of the belongings was not currently present. There was only one person in the room and he was tied to the bed.

  “Frack,” Seth exclaimed when his eyes fell on Patrick’s body. It was covered in bruises and his broken ribs were easily discernible as he laboured to make his chest rise and fall. His face, despite his unconscious state, was creased with pain.

  His rasping as he struggled to breathe could be heard and Ellen soon spotted the cause. “Nosmas,” she called out. “Get that collar off him. Now.”

  The wizard did not need telling twice. As soon as its presence was brought to his attention he knew what it was. He rushed over to the bed, took the collar in his hands and whispered the necessary spell as he pulled it apart. It opened at the back and Nosmas carefully removed it from around Patrick’s neck before throwing it onto the floor and speaking a spell to incinerate it. As soon as his airway was no longer restricted, Patrick’s breathing became quiet and regular. While Nosmas worked on the collar, Ria had taken a knife from her boot and cut the ropes that held Patrick to the bed.

  By this time everyone was crowded around Patrick’s prone body. Bite marks left by the snake were still visible and the paste Nizari had smeared on his skin in various places was still present. Ellen reached out her hand to brush some off, but stopped when Nosmas called out to her.

  “Do not let that stuff touch your skin,” he warned. “It will do no damage, but will cause more pain that you would believe possible.” He looked at the amount that had been applied to Patrick’s body. “It is a miracle he is still alive.”

  “I will get water and cloth,” Hawk volunteered and left the cavern. Ellen turned her attention to Patrick’s feet.

  “The bastard severed his tendons,” she said as she stared at the blood soaked sheet. Her bottom lip began to tremble as she struggled to hold herself together.

  “Can you fix it?” Tor asked.

  “I hope so,” she told him, then took a deep breath. If Patrick was ever going to walk again she needed to get herself under control. “Seth, get my bag,” she ordered. Seth ran out, returning moments later with Ellen’s backpack slung over his shoulder. Hawk arrived at the same time, carrying a number of bowls, some clean cloths and a water container.

  While Ellen and Seth set about sewing Patrick’s Achilles tendons back together, Hawk and Tor started to clean the paste away. Nosmas knew a spell to mend broken bones and positioned himself so he could heal Patrick’s ribs without getting in anyone’s way, while Ria took a cloth and bowl of water from Hawk and started to wipe the sweat from Patrick’s face.

  Then she noticed his eyes and almost screamed. The eyelids were only partially closed, revealing the paste that had been applied. “Mother have mercy,” she exclaimed, causing Tor to look over at her in concern. He noticed where she was looking and understood her reaction.

  He walked over to her and whispered in her ear. “Remain calm. Ellen is too busy right now to worry about anything else. Are you able to clean his eyes or do you want me to do it?”

  Without speaking, Ria indicated that she would take care of it, so Tor returned to the part of Patrick’s body he was cleaning. The blood red substance was thick and sticky and it took a lot of water to remove it fully.

  By the time Ria was satisfied that she had managed to get all of the paste out of Patrick’s eyes, Nosmas had finished mending his ribs. “Nosmas,” she said quietly, hoping Ellen would not hear. He raised his head and she signalled for him to follow her to a corner of the cavern. A small pile of clean linen had been stowed there and before Ria had a chance to speak, Nosmas suggested they start ripping it into strips to use as bandages.

  “What is wrong?” he asked as they set to work.

  There were tears in her eyes when she looked up at him. “His eyes were filled with that stuff,” she told him. “Will it do any damage?”

  Nosmas winced. He had experienced the pain it could cause when someone put some on the back of his hand as a joke; he could not even begin to imagine what Patrick had gone through having it on his eyes. “I do not know,” he confessed. “It has never been known to have any effect other than causing pain, but I have not heard of it being used on such a delicate area before.”

  “Do we tell Ellen?”

  Nosmas nodded. “We have to, but not yet. She has enough on her hands right now.” Ria agreed and they both fell silent while they continued to tear strips from the blankets and sheets.

  Once all of the paste had been removed from Patrick’s body, Hawk looked around the cavern. The bite marks looked like they had been caused by a snake and he wanted to make sure it was not still around. His eyes fell on a lidded basket and he walked over to it. He partially removed the lid and peered inside. The calmette adder was curled up on the bottom, sleeping soundly. Biting someone so many times in such a short space of time had exhausted it.

  “Tor,” he called out. “What sort of snake is this?”

  Tor wandered over to him and looked into the basket. The minute his eyes focused on the reptile he began swearing. Ellen looked across at him in concern, but soon dropped her gaze back down to Patrick’s feet; she was singing a healing charm as she worked and could not afford to let anything ruin her concentration.

  “Do not tell anyone what you have seen,” Tor instructed. “I will explain later, when Ellen is not around.” Hawk nodded his understanding.

  “What should we do with it?” he asked, pointing towards the basket.

  “Release it,” Tor instructed. “It will do no harm in the wild. It is only man that abuses it.”

  Hawk picked up the basket, making sure the lid was securely in place, and departed through the tunnel. Once he was outside, he laid it on its side, gave it a few sharp taps to awaken the snake, then removed the lid. The green reptile slowly slithered out, looked around for a moment, then headed for the nearest patch of long grass.

  By the time he returned, Ellen was sitting on the floor, her head in her hands. Seth was busy bandaging Patrick’s feet with some of the strips of cloth, while Nosmas had sat Patrick’s inert body upright and was supporting it so that Ria could use other strips to bandage his ribs. His eyes had already been wrapped in cloth. Tor was sitting next to Ellen, talking to her quietly. Hawk had no idea what he was saying, but he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the snake that had just been released.

  “How are we going to get him back?” Seth asked when he had finished his task.

  “I will go and retrieve the wagon,” Hawk volunteered. The assassin was still on the loose so Tor was not happy about any of them being alone, but if one of them needed to be, Hawk was the obvious choice. Reluctantly, the Prince gave his approval and the vampire flew off.

  He found everyone in Grimmel and River’s room. Although there was little doubt that they would be safe in their own rooms, everyone wanted the extra company. Isma was still with them, having made no attempt to escape.

  “Did you find him?” Sam asked the moment Hawk flew in through the window.

  Hawk nodded his head. “I need the wagon,” he stated. “He is in no condition to ride.”

  “He is alive then,” Isma said with a sigh of relief.

  “Barely,” Hawk replied.

  Brin let him know where to find the wagon and he flew out of the window once more. In a much shorter time than he had expected, he arrived back at the cave. Patrick was still unconscious, so Nosmas picked him up and carried him outside. He was laid in Hawk’s coffin and covered with a blanket.

  The ride back took much longer as Nosmas did his best to avoid every rock and hole in the road. When they eventually arrived at the inn, Patrick was carried up the stairs and bundled up in one of the beds. He was still naked as nobody saw the need to dress him. Clothes would have gotten in the way and, under the circumstances, nobody thought Patrick would care about his modesty.

  He still showed no signs of waking, s
o Ellen agreed to join the others in the taproom. The inn-keeper and all other patrons had long since sought out their beds, so they had the room to themselves.

  “What happened to him?” Sam asked once everyone was seated. Brin had had the foresight to purchase a couple of bottles of the strongest alcohol available and everyone except Hawk had a glass of it in front of them.

  Tor glanced at Ellen before replying, but she told him to go ahead. She would need to know everything eventually and she would rather not make Patrick talk about it if it could be avoided.

  “Isma had better start,” Tor said, noticing the woman was still present.

  “I had been ordered to keep an eye out for Patrick,” she began. “My brother had seen him place an order with the tailor and expected him to return to collect it sometime before nightfall.” She was holding her hands in front of her on the table and was looking down at them as she spoke. Now she raised her head so she could address Ellen. “I followed Patrick into the shop and told him that my brother was holding you hostage and was willing to exchange your life for his.”

  “Why did he believe you?” Ellen asked.

  “I am not sure he did; he was just not prepared to take the risk that there was a chance I was telling the truth, no matter how slim.”

  Nobody spoke. The sensible thing for him to have done would have been to forcibly take Isma back to the inn, but Patrick was not one for thinking things through, especially where Ellen was concerned.

  Isma continued. “When we arrived, my brother knocked Patrick out with some kind of gas, beat him with a club until I thought he was going to kill him, then I helped him to strip him and tie him to the bed. Then I left them alone. I have no idea what my brother did. All I know is that I do not think I will ever get the sound of Patrick screaming out of my head. It seemed to go on forever.”

  Nosmas took over. “When we arrived, Patrick was still tied to the bed. A choker collar had been placed around his neck and he was struggling to breathe.” He briefly explained what a choker collar was, then continued. “Both of his Achilles tendons had been severed and he had snake bites all over him.”