She sat staring at the food, wondering what had happened. Where was To' Shinbo? Had he gotten caught stealing her food? Had he been reassigned? Her mind spun around all the worse possibilities. She fell to her knees in the dirt and screamed, giving in to despair. To' Shinbo was the only hope they had, and now that hope was lost. She stood and kicked the bowl of gruel across the room and cursed the Kaheendrans.
A guard came up to the door and slammed the butt of his spear against it warning her to stop, or else. She spit in his direction, but stopped yelling. He grinned and mumbled something under his breath as he walked away.
Kyrianna put her face in her hands and began to cry.
"What is the matter child?" asked the High Priest from the cell next to hers when the guard was far enough way not to hear.
After a few moments, Kyrianna was able to choke back her tears and answer him. "To' Shinbo did not bring my food today. Something terrible has happened, I just know it."
"Now, now, don't fret just yet. There could be any number of things that may have happened. Don't give into despair so soon child." The High Priest’s voice was soothing, like a father’s would be.
Kyrianna caught herself nodding, as if it was her own father telling her not to cry. But despair was already setting in. She knew something was wrong. There was no good reason why To' Shinbo would not be delivering her food. She shuddered with grief as her world fell into chaos.
"Just wait on it Princess. Do not make things out to be worse than they are,” pleaded the High Priest.
Kyrianna tried, but couldn't stop thinking of all the horrible possibilities. It was hopeless. She would die in this prison, either before or after her kingdom was run through by this Thaluzont, and the backstabbing Kaheendrans. She slumped down in the corner of her cell and fell into the shadowed depths of sorrow in the recesses of her mind. Her walls had finally crumbled.
The time came when To' Shinbo usually brought her dinner and again the unknown guard showed up, throwing her plate on the ground. He gave her that same evil smirk. She knew why he gave it. It was to tell her that she would never see To' Shinbo again. She pulled her legs in and hugged her knees, staring at the plate of old spoiled food. She decided that she would not eat anymore. She would soon die from starvation or illness. Without nutrition, in these conditions, she would probably fall ill fast. She felt her eyes closing against her will. She hadn't slept the night before, too nervous about the plan, she had stayed awake waiting for To' Shinbo. Now the emotional drain at the despair of everything falling through tugged her into the realm of dreams.
She woke to her cell door creaking open. She jumped up and pushed her back against the wall in the corner of the cell. No light came from the outside corridor which meant it was still late. There was no reason for anyone to be coming at this time, unless they meant to drag her to Yosu's cell and make her endure more of his torture, but why this late? She thought of the unknown guard and how he had smiled at her. Maybe it was him, intending to rape her. Her heart pounded in her ears. She tried to slow her breathing and prepare herself. If he intended to rape her, then she would kill him. She was dead anyway. What did it matter?
The shadowed form slowly closed the door and moved closer to her. She spread her feet, crouching slightly, she was a coiled spring, ready to launch. She thought to charge him, and hopefully catch him off guard. Just as she tensed all her muscles and made to explode forth in an attack, he spoke her name.
"To' Shinbo?" she rushed forward, slamming into him, and hugged him with all her strength. "I thought you were dead. I thought they found out that you were stealing food for me and put you to death." Her words were a quiet whimper as she tried to keep her voice from wavering.
"They did catch To’Shinbo, but they thinks him an imbecile and only beat him a little. Then they tell him to stay away from Princess and assigned him to cleaning out the waste slits. To’ Shinbo had to wait until the other guards started their games and drinking before he could sneak in here."
Kyrianna reached out and felt his face. He had some swelling on his left cheek and a deep cut over his eye. His lips were cut and swollen also. "Dragon’s breath!” she cursed. “I'm so sorry that they did this to you." She gripped his shirt tight and pulled him closer, "Those evil sons of goats will get theirs in the end. Mark my words To’Shinbo."
To' Shinbo was quiet for a moment. Kyrianna thought she heard him sniff.
"No one ever care what happen to To’Shinbo before, why do you?"
Kyrianna felt his face again. Tears were running down his swollen cheeks. She wiped them away. "Because you are a good man, and you have been a friend to me."
"To’Shinbo never had friend before."
"Well you’re my friend, and I need your help. You have to get out of this city. They are going to attack Vorea and kill everyone."
He pushed away from Kyrianna a little. "Why should To’ Shinbo care what they do to Vorea? They kicked To’ Shinbo out, Kaheendra is home now."
"Because Vorea is my home, I will see to it that you are reinstated back into society. If you do what I tell you to, I will be forever indebted to you. You will have my thanks, and my friendship, forever."
She couldn’t see his face but she could sense his smile.
"To’ Shinbo always wanted good friend. And he misses home." He puffed out his chest and stuck his chin up, like a child playing a soldier. "What does Princess want To’ Shinbo to do?"
Kyrianna rested her hands on his broad shoulders. "I want you to run, and get away from these evil people. You need to go south, to Sanjeera."
He was nodding his head vigorously while she spoke. "Yes, yes, to Sanjeera."
"When you get there you need to speak with their leader, or military commander, and tell them that I have been captured, and that Vorea is in threat of attack from a large army to the north. Kaheendra plans on attacking from the south. Tell him that they need to send envoys out to the other southern tribes, even the smaller ones. Everyone needs to unite to stop this threat. Can you remember all that?"
"Of course..." he repeated it back to her, every word of it, puffing out his chest further when he was done.
"Very good, To' Shinbo. Do you think you can make it out of here without them stopping you?"
To' Shinbo pulled both her hands together and cupped them in his large, warm, callused hands. "Don't worry Princess. They think To' Shinbo is reject. They won't care if he gone. To’Shinbo will make it to Sanjeera and bring help. You can count on To' Shinbo."
He held her hands for a moment and then turned and left. Kyrianna watched him leave and said a silent prayer. She had to believe that he would make it out of the city, and furthermore, she hoped that Sanjeera would see him and listen to him. There were so many factors that could go wrong, but she had hope again. As the cell door closed and the quiet and darkness set in around her, she slumped back down into the corner of her cell and wrapped herself in the blanket To' Shinbo had given her. It did little to warm her from the chill she felt, but the new hope she had found was like a small flame inside her, warming her heart and revitalizing her spirit. All she could do now is wait.
When Shadow Meets Darkness
Valgannon moved through the shadows of Kaheendra’s dark streets. Through his network of spies in Vorea, he had learned that Stephan was now in Kaheendra. The assassin must have discovered that the princess fled there after her family was killed. Valgannon hoped that the princess was indeed here. He hoped that he would get to Stephan before he could eliminate her. He would enjoy doing that himself.
After two days in Kaheendra, Valgannon had found that the Princess was being held captive in the dungeons. There was little information that he could not find, given the right amount of torture applied to the right people. He also learned that Stephan had thus far been unable to make a move on her. Valgannon laughed to himself at the worthlessness of the man. This would be an easier kill than he had thought. He knew that Stephan was staying in a small room above a dingy bar called the Knuckler, nea
r the palace. It was a place that only ruffians and brutes went to drink themselves into oblivion, the perfect place for an assassin. It was not somewhere that anyone would ask questions about his presence. Stephan could move in and out of the town without anyone ever really noticing.
Valgannon had been inside Stephan’s room the night before while the assassin was out watching the dungeons. He thought of maybe going into the room again and waiting for Stephan, but he preferred not to engage him inside such a small area, and with people nearby that would hear if things unexpectedly got loud. So he followed Stephan to the prison instead, watching his every move. He felt ashamed that this man was looked at with such reverence. He was considered to be a great assassin, and yet he failed in his task at killing the princess. And now waits for what? Why has he not killed her, now that he has discovered her location? Slaughter the guards and kill the princess, an easy task in Valgannon’s mind. He slid back into a shadow as some guards passed by on patrol. He smiled and shook his head, if they only knew what lay right under their noses. The unsuspecting world around the realm of the assassin always amused him.
Valgannon melded in with the shadows of the stone building that made up the prison compound. He kept a close eye on Stephan, who was peering down through a small opening at ground level, some type of shaft that vented the dungeons. He considered of three routes that Stephan would most likely take on his way back to the Inn. The man never took the same route back twice in a row, so it was somewhat of a guess as to which way he would return. But knowing Stephan as well as he did, and knowing the art of stealth better than anyone alive, Valgannon was reasonably sure as to the route Stephan would take. But just in case, ever the studious killer, Valgannon picked a spot that would allow him to see if Stephan chose the second most likely path, and he had already picked a quick route that he could take that would allow him to slip ahead and intercept Stephan further along his direction of travel, if that scenario happened. It was not as prime a location for the encounter as he would have liked, but would serve better than the room at the Inn.
Valgannon slithered back through the shadows, keeping his eyes on Stephan as he left the prison. He was baffled that Stephan had again forgone the chance to kill the Princess, but excited that he would not have two heads to bring back to Suntari. His heart pumped in his ears, not out of effort, or fright, but at the anticipation of blood. He longed for the pleasure of another kill.
The voice spoke to him, fueling his inner fire. When he made it to his ambush point, he pulled out his blackened blade and ran it across his forearm. He sheathed the dagger and let the blood drip into the palm of his other hand, forming a small pool, before smearing it over his face. It was something he had started doing years ago. It made his bloodlust burn like a fever through his body. He breathed in deeply and then let the air out slowly, calming himself, then sank back into the darkness and laid in wait for his prey.
†††
Stephan slinked down the vent shaft and moved through the halls of the prison to an area where he could see the princess' cell. He was a cautious man and had been watching her for the past week. He had, at one point, been ready to make his move, but things changed. The princess had a regular guard that brought her food throughout the day. He was a larger man, about the same height as himself only slightly thicker. Stephan had planned to kill the guard before it was time to deliver the Princess her dinner. That was when the other guards would all be in the main post, rolling dice, casting lots, and drinking themselves into a fracas. It was the perfect plan, because none of the other guards paid much attention to the one that brought the Princess her food. He seemed to be slow, and they treated him as such. He could kill the guard, don his uniform, and pretend to bring the Princess her dinner. When he entered the cell, she would be dead before she realized that anything was amiss.
That had been the plan anyway. But on this day, when he was to carry out the task, a new guard brought the Princess her meal. At first he wasn't overly concerned, thinking that the normal guard was simply doing something else. But after watching the same new guard bring the Princess her dinner, he began to worry.
He watched the Princess from the shadows. She looked to be distressed about her new guard as well. He couldn't make out what she was saying, but he could see that she was talking to herself, and she looked frantic. He was about to leave and return to the Inn, hoping that this day was just a fluke, when the larger, regular guard, passed below him, heading toward the Princess. This was indeed strange. It was well past time for anyone to be paying her a visit, and by the way the guard looked around nervously, it seemed he was sneaking in, but why?
Stephan watched in curiosity, and then shock, as the guard entered the cell and the Princess jumped up and ran over to him, and then embraced him. The two talked in hushed tones for a few moments. Stephan could tell by the man’s body posture that the Princess was giving him some sort of instructions. He wondered why this guard would be taking orders from a prisoner.
Soon the guard left the cell and headed out. As he passed under the light of a torch, Stephan noticed that his face was battered. He must have been beaten for something. Maybe he had grown fond of the princess and they chastised him for it. That would explain why he was no longer bringing her meals and why he was now sneaking in to see her. Stephan wondered what their conversation had been about. He would have to catch up to the guard and question him. Stephan was sure that his method of questioning would encourage the guard to tell him everything.
He slipped out of the prison quickly and made his way down the road, looking for the guard. He caught a glimpse of him walking down a dark path into town. Thankfully he was larger than most of the other Kaheendrans and so he stood out more. As Stephan followed after the guard, he thought of where he could overtake the large man, and snatch him into a shadow to begin the questioning. Thankfully, the guard was walking one of the paths that Stephan intended to take back to his Inn. He smiled and thought that luck was surely on his side tonight.
He moved at a brisk walk down the street, passing from shadow to shadow. Moving with stealth was like breathing for him. He had been doing it so long that it came as second nature now. He paused as the guard slowed and looked as though he might go into a tavern. Stephan moved up to a darkened alley to wait and see what the guard would do. As he flattened himself against the wall, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun to look deeper into the alley and studied the darkness. When the shadows seemed to be moving toward him, he thought for a second that he was seeing things, but then the hair stood up on the back of his neck as a man’s figure materialized from the gloom.
Stephan was stunned. Not just because he had been surprised to see the assassin, but because of who the assassin was. There was no mistaking the face that was masked in blood, or the eyes that were wide open, maniacally, showing the whites around cold black orbs. Behind those eyes, an evil shadow loomed.
Stephan's mind whirled, searching for options, but there was only one. He knew that the only reason he was looking at Suntari’s Headsman standing before him, was because that’s exactly what the assassin wanted. He had come to collect a debt of blood, and he was giving Stephan the option of a fair fight, if ever there was such a thing between assassins.
"Why have you come, Headsman?” asked Stephan, trying to buy himself some precious time. “I have located the Princess and have planned out my attack." He moved as he spoke, attempting to further the distance between himself and the deadly, personal hitman of Suntari.
Valgannon stayed in sync with his movements, keeping the same distance between them. "The princess should be dead already. You made a grave mistake, and you did so while under the employ of the worst man."
The two men circled each other as they spoke, calculating what the other might do and how to counter it.
"She was not in the city, so I couldn't kill her with the others. I have made up for my error and will soon correct it,” said Stephan, knowing that his argument was wasted on this ma
n, he was simply grasping at straws.
"Your fear of death is all that has kept you from completing your task. Your ill planning from the beginning has placed you in peril. Your error is irreversible. Meet your fate as a warrior and not a coward. Don't make me regret not killing you already."
Stephan knew the truth of it. Nothing he could say would turn this assassin from his path. The man was death itself and enjoyed killing more than anything else.
"But you must listen…" Stephan acted as though he was giving another excuse, but it was only an attempt to distract Suntari’s Headsman as he made the subtle movement with his wrist that dropped the dagger into his hand.
As soon as it touched his fingers, Stephan launched the small dirk in mid-sentence and dove to the right, expecting his fellow assassin to counter with his own throw when seeing Stephan move. Stephan didn't expect to hit a vital organ, but he hoped to injure the Headsman, and possibly slow him down.
As Stephan braced himself to land and roll, a sharp pain in his chest knocked the wind out of him. He hit the ground and tried to tuck his legs and roll, but his limbs felt sluggish and he landed hard, sliding across the alley into the wall. He looked down in surprise at the dagger, embedded to the hilt in the center of his chest, and then looked up at his killer, standing in the alley.
Stephan saw that his knife was lodged in the Headsman’s forearm that hung casually at his side. He coughed out a laugh as he realized what had happened. The Headsman had anticipated his move and brought his arm up to block the knife and accept the injury so that he wouldn't have to move before making his own throw. Only he had also anticipated which way Stephan would dive and threw the knife in that direction with deadly accuracy. It was a nearly impossible and insanely risky calculation, but he had pulled it off with apparent ease.
Revelations of Doom Page 20