Journeyman Assassin

by Brian Keller

  That night the boys witnessed several muggings, four rapes, and two brawls and one drunk so far gone he’d likely have drowned while passed out face down in the mud. Cooper knew that he wasn’t supposed to interact with anyone, and he probably was interrupting the man’s impromptu suicide attempt, but he dragged the man’s unconscious body up onto a dry patch of ground before slipping back into the shadows. If Evan witnessed this, he never mentioned it.

  Chapter 4

  “Baron Demetrius is a man with his fingers in many pies.” Garoth observed. He’d spent the day watching the Baron’s residence from several different vantage points throughout the day. ‘Slim’ had adopted half a dozen disguises during the course of his observations. A measure that was probably unnecessary considering the volume of traffic going through this part of the Grid, but it was better to make the effort to do things right than to get sloppy and risk bungling a job.

  Slim spotted the Guild spy while she was returning from fetching some vegetables from the Trade Quarter. He caught her eye and gave a quick hand sign to let her know he wanted to meet with her. She paused to adjust her hold on the package she was carrying and gave him a nod to show that she’d seen him. A little over an hour later she came back outside and started walking in the direction of the Trade Quarter. He pulled a faded blue cloak from his pack as he followed her. A few blocks into the Trade Quarter, he slipped up behind her and put the cloak around her and led her between two buildings. They wove quickly through a few streets and entered a tavern and sat down at a table far from the door. They spoke quickly for no more than a few minutes, then he had her sketch out a quick diagram of the layout of the rooms in the house. When she’d finished he led her into the kitchen. The cook reached for a nearby rolling pin as they entered but he quelled her concerns with a look and a coin. Once the spy was through the door he went back into the tavern and had a single beer while he thought about all he’d learned. She didn’t know as much about the Baron’s business as he’d hoped, but then kitchen staff seldom had a chance to observe much beyond meal preparation. Still, he had learned a few items of interest. A couple months ago, the Baron often had several guests throughout the day. She knew this because the kitchen was always busy preparing a meal or delicacy of some kind to feed to his guests. In the last month or so, the activity had slowed dramatically. Now there might only be a few guests during the course of a day, and lately they’d been the same guest or two every couple of days. Slim assumed that this meant a business deal was going on, or he was conducting planning sessions. The Baron was a member of the City Council and the Planning Commission, so it wouldn’t be unusual for him to be involved in any number of projects, but the fact that the meetings took place in his home implied they were part of his personal dealings. The other piece of information he learned was of particular interest to him. The Baron requested a specific tea in his study at eight o’clock…every night.

  He departed the tavern through the main door and returned to continue observing the Baron’s home. There were roving guards outside and a small team of guards moving through the interior of the house. The report he’d gotten from the girl supported what he had observed, almost no one arrived here seeking audience with the Baron. He thought this was odd since the Baron was such an influential man. Shortly after lunch, the Baron climbed aboard his carriage which was driven toward the Palace, most likely to attend a City Council meeting. The Prince preferred to attend these meetings so he offered a room in the Palace to be used for this purpose. The Baron returned in less than two hours and within thirty minutes of his return a hired carriage with heavy curtains drawn across the windows arrived in the Baron’s courtyard. Two men got out and quickly entered the Baron’s home, stayed a little less than an hour, and then departed in the same manner they had come. After another couple of hours of seeing nothing other than guards patrolling the property, Slim decided to go back to the Guild and do a little more research and then return after dark to see how the patrols were adjusted for night shifts.

  The reading that he had done to learn more about the Baron had confirmed much of what he already knew about City and National politics. The City Council regulated trade within the Province and certainly within the city, but they were required to abide by the laws and edicts issued by the King. In other words, the city could not allow merchant ships to dock in the harbor unless the Kingdom had a trade agreement with that nation. The City Council was mostly charged with assessing taxes, managing commerce and accounting, and disbursement of funds in the form of wages, repairs and upkeep. They also advised the Prince on matters of diplomacy and even the military, but only so far as the numbers of soldiers and their wages. The Planning Commission was an entirely separate matter. The Planning Commission was a self-perpetuated, internally monitored consortium of merchants and wealthy, landed nobility. The Planning Commission regulated development within the city, and often made the arrangements for upkeep and repairs of city structures, and then submitted the bill to the City Council. They also regulated the transient merchant vendors and levied fees and fines within the Trade Quarter. Ideally, no one would sit on both councils since they drew monies from different sources and on occasion had opposing short-term objectives. The Baron was the only individual to have a seat in both organizations, and seats on the Planning Commission are not hereditary. The Baron’s heir would automatically assume his role on the City Council, but there could be no expectation of having a seat waiting for him on the Planning Commission. That organization recruited ‘by invitation only’.

  Garoth could certainly see how corruption and graft could easily find its home within the Planning Commission. He wondered how long this group would continue to be self-regulated. Garoth had no doubt that the Planning Commission enriched the Prince’s coffers. The question was, in what way and to what extent?

  He spent what little was left of the afternoon researching everything he could find that referenced his client, Lazlo. Clients almost never made any overtures of non-payment on a contract fee. For one thing, it would be foolish to welsh on a debt owed for a murder. If one were willing to murder for money, they certainly wouldn’t flinch at killing someone who refused to pay. What was important was how quickly it could be redressed in the case of an evasive client. In essence, before Garoth went out to complete a contract, he’d already worked out how he would approach the client if it appeared that they’d need to be encouraged to pay promptly. Garoth knew that most of his peers followed this same habit. It never failed to impress when, the day after the contract was satisfied, an Assassin stepped out of the shadows to remind a reticent client that money was owed.

  As he sifted through the pages he saw there was even a sketched portrait of Lazlo amongst the pages of written material. The sketch was done by a skilled hand but there were no initials or signature to indicate the artist. It depicted a man in his early twenties, so the drawing was at least three to four years old. Dark hair somewhere between wavy and curly. Dominant eyebrows that started lower in the center and higher at the temples. This gave Lazlo a slightly sinister expression which he seemed to further cultivate with his waxed moustache, curled slightly at the ends. In his experience, a man like that was either wholly evil, so it amused him to look the part; or he was a man that wanted the reputation but would crumble when faced with a dire situation. Much of the material about Lazlo that Garoth could find was a few years old. If the Guild had plans of working with the man there should be stacks of current information somewhere, possibly even as current as last week. There was no record of this information in the library, neither on the shelves nor signed out. That most likely meant that someone was still collecting the information, or hoarding it. Garoth wouldn’t put it past Master Vorni to withhold information, especially if Lazlo was one of his pet projects. It would be time consuming to collect his own information, but if Vorni was working that closely with the man, then payment was assured. Garoth might not have access to the most up to date information but after a couple hours of researching he k
new enough to be able to intrude on Lazlo’s life.

  He continued reading up on Demetrius until the dinner bell rang. Then after dinner, he picked it all up again. He had a fair understanding of the Baron’s financial holdings, his business partners, and the depth of his involvement in the Council and Planning Commission. Garoth felt it was important to understand the effects that could be expected as a result of killing the Baron. There was more at stake than simply killing the man and having his second son stepping in to take his place. A vacuum would be created that Lazlo could not be expected to fill. A simple Killer for the Guild would not even attempt to understand any of this. They were given a target and determined how best to kill them, end of story. An Assassin for the Guild was expected to have an understanding of the ramifications of their actions. There was no way to ascertain the far reaching effects of killing a political figure like the Baron, but the Guild Council expected an Assassin to do his (or her) homework before reporting that they were prepared to fulfill the contract.

  By the time it was late enough to return to the Baron’s residence to observe the night guard shifts, he thought he’d likely be fulfilling the contract within the next two or three days. Tomorrow was too soon, there were still preparations to be made. Tomorrow he’d need to confront Master Vorni again. If he was holding onto the most current information on Lazlo, he would likely have additional insight on the Baron. Getting him to provide the information could be problematic, but if he wanted Lazlo to assume the role of Baron then Vorni had an interest in making sure the contract was fulfilled. He just had to be mindful of how he approached him. If Vorni thought Garoth was confronting him, then he’d be sent away empty handed simply out of spite. He wondered if Vorni treated everyone the same, or whether he reserved his venom solely for him. He didn’t have time to help Vorni sort through his problems, even if he had felt inclined to do so.

  As he approached the Baron’s house for the third time today he already knew where the best, shadowed vantage points would be. After observing for a couple of hours he felt confident with his entry plan. He would enter a few hours before dawn, before the daylight patrols started. The part he felt least comfortable with was that the best opportunity to make the kill was when the Baron was in his study enjoying his nightly tea. Garoth didn’t relish the idea of remaining hidden for such a long time in the Baron’s home. He really needed to enter the Baron’s home first to select his hiding place. He waited for another twenty minutes, as one pair of guards moved through the grounds to enter the house it would be a few minutes before the next pair rounded the corner. He checked the ties on the cowl that concealed his face, glanced up the street for any observers and crossed the street to make his entry.

  Three hours later he was departing the Baron’s residence. Unless he had completely misread the environment, he had identified a suitable location to conceal himself. His ideal criteria was that his hiding place allowed him a view of the killing ground and didn’t cramp him up too much. He would enter the Baron’s house before dawn the day after tomorrow and the Baron would be dead, by hand, before he finished his tea that night. He also had a clear picture of the preparations that remained. This would be much easier than he’d originally thought.

  Chapter 5

  Cooper noticed that Master Darius seemed unusually agitated. He tended to get fidgety when he was most excited and this morning it appeared that the little man was having difficulties staying balanced on his stool. Cooper walked to the front of the classroom, and as he approached the master’s desk he could see what looked to be a completed working diagram of the trap he had devised, along with several detailed sketches of some of the more intricate workings. Master Darius watched Cooper as the boy studied the drawings. The teacher was almost giggling while he rapidly but silently clapped his hands together. Cooper stood up straight and asked, “These drawings look complete, sir. You’ve incorporated all the dimensional diagrams you had me working on for the last few days?”. Master Darius was smiling as he nodded, “I finalized the diagrams late yesterday afternoon. Master Loril assisted me a couple days ago to work out the materials we’d need. It’s one thing to work out the measurements, but we need to make sure the small springs are made of the right material or they won’t produce the force required. There are many considerations here. We’ve developed an incredibly complex design. It’s very intriguing for me, but I fear that by the time we have completed the prototype the Guild will have decided that it is too costly to produce.”. Cooper found he had no argument for that. He could probably accomplish much the same effect as this trap simply by scattering two or three dozen caltrops behind him as he ran. Master Darius continued to have him work on the design and details of the components stating, “The project still works towards your course completion.” He paused but couldn’t resist adding, “And at this point, I just can’t seem to let it go. If the Guild Council withdraws its support, I believe I would have to fund the development myself just to finish a working prototype!”

  Cooper spent the next two hours trying to calculate the force required to launch the small spikes from the trap. He smiled inwardly as he considered how much he’d learned in such a short period of time. A year ago he couldn’t make sense of any numbers that had more than one digit. Now he understood how to figure distances and weights. He could pencil out perimeters and areas of basic geometric shapes. He’d even learned how to use a map, compass and secant to identify his precise location but trying to work out how to calculate a force requirement was still beyond his reach.

  As Cooper was turning his attention from mathematics and onto a few of the design points, Osrim stood and approached Master Darius’ lectern. They exchanged a few brief words and Master Darius stood and led the boy to a corner of the room and had him kneel down. Cooper felt like he’d seen something like this before and watched with interest. It appeared that Osrim was likely Manifesting. Within a few minutes, Osrim began to wince and grimace and in less than five minutes he appeared to begin to have a few spasms. Shortly after that it looked much like it had for Kolrem with the exception that Osrim’s body positions were different. He went to a nearly fetal position, he laid on his right side and fairly stayed there. There were a few moments on several occasions when his spasms brought him to an almost prone position but each time, before completing one breath he’d returned to being curled up on his right side. After about fifteen or twenty minutes, Osrim’s spasms began to abate and he worked himself into a sitting position with his knees drawn up but not tightly so. Cooper approached Master Darius. As the teacher acknowledged his approach Cooper volunteered, “Osrim and I stay in the same room. If he doesn’t need much assistance I can help him back to his bed.”. Master Darius looked like he clenched his jaw before he gave a quick nod. The teacher knelt down beside Osrim and spoke a few quiet words. Osrim nodded and gave a short grunt as he shifted his position and attempted to rise. As he unceremoniously plunked back down into a seated position, Master Darius turned and gave Cooper a meaningful look and nodded his head toward Osrim. Cooper took the meaning and assisted Osrim to stand and led him from the room. They moved through the halls in silence. There were a few occasions when Osrim would lean on Cooper for additional support but he mostly walked on his own. At no time, however, did he stand fully erect until just before easing himself into bed. Once Osrim was settled, Cooper returned to the classroom and gave his teacher a simple nod as he seated himself at his workstation.

  The remainder of Cooper’s day was mostly unremarkable except for several people asking him about Osrim’s Manifestation. His answer was always the same. He briefly stated what he saw and explained that Osrim hadn’t said a word as he’d been helped to his bed.

  That night, before Cooper went to his own bed, he checked in on Osrim. There was a plate and cup from the dining hall on the floor beside Osrim’s bed. The plate had been cleared and the cup was empty. He felt satisfied knowing that someone had thought to make sure Osrim had gotten a meal.

  As he relaxed in his
own bed, it occurred to him that he had not seen Boyd around for almost a week. He wasn’t even in Combat class anymore. Boyd was the largest of his classmates and a cruel bully. At the earliest opportunity, Cooper had both defeated and humiliated him in Combat class. It had only taken a few moments, but that was because Boyd had completely underestimated him. Cooper suspected that if Boyd were to attack him now, the result might still be the same, but the lines would not be so distinct. He thought he should ask regarding Boyd’s whereabouts but couldn’t decide whether he was really interested enough to inquire. Before drifting off to sleep he’d reached the conclusion that he’d prefer to know, and figured that it usually didn’t hurt to ask questions though sometimes the process was more uncomfortable than he liked.

  The following morning, Osrim awoke and arose as if all was normal. He went about his routine as he did every morning. As Cooper was doing his morning stretching, he watched as Osrim came out of the privy. The older boy gave him a short wave and a grin, “Thanks for helping me back yesterday. I wasn’t feeling quite right at the time.” Cooper nodded, “No problem. I’m certain that you’d do the same for me. How are you feeling now?” Osrim shrugged, “Something’s different, but to be honest I don’t see what the big fuss is all about.” He paused for a moment, in thought, “I suppose that could mean that my Manifestation wasn’t that strong. I might not have much Talent to work with. What do you think?” Cooper had to admit that he didn’t know, “You’d be better off asking someone that knows about that kind of thing. I have nothing to compare it to except what I saw when Kolrem Manifested. The main difference between yours and his were your body positions. His might’ve been a little ‘stronger’, but I couldn’t say for sure. Mister Skran might be able to tell you more. Master Brais seems to hold his estimates in high regard”. Osrim nodded, “It actually makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Why Skran is still an Adept and not a Master?” Cooper shrugged, “Miss Camilla is still an Adept as well, but Master Worthan says she’s one of the most skilled healers and poisoners in the Guild. I have to admit that I’m a little curious, but can either of us claim to understand the intent of the Masters Council?” Osrim shook his head, “I don’t even know who sits on the Masters Council. Though I feel certain that the Master of Coin must attend. I suspect that Master Worthan has a seat, but no idea who else might.” Cooper nodded in agreement, “I think Master Loril probably does, as well.” Osrim jerked his head up, “The Quartermaster?! Why do you think that?” Cooper shrugged again, “No particular reason. I know he’s been in the Guild for a long time and everyone I’ve spoken with seems to respect him.” Osrim nodded again, “You’re right about that. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say anything bad about him.” As they walked to the dining hall, Cooper was musing over the conversation. It reminded him of another point that had come up earlier when he’d first arrived and Birt was showing him around. Felis, the Assassin who recruited him just after Cooper had witnessed him kill Skaiven, his House Father, was said to be one of the busiest Assassin’s in the Guild, but he was still an Adept as well. He figured as he progressed within the Guild, the reasons would become clearer. Birt had said that perhaps the Guild only had a certain number of Master positions available for Assassins. Maybe he was right, and maybe the other specialties had similar limitations.