Wren smiled and shook his head. “No. This town is a little different. It’s larger than Ryr, but it’s about a third the size of Kyt. I don’t need a circus act drawing attention to us here. Instead, I will prepare some papers for the young men. Debir, Liden, and Hunlok, you all are going to become nobles. I’ll give you a bunch of money and your job will be to spend it.”
“I like the sound of that,” Hunlok said.
“Why would we need to be nobles?” Debir asked. He still had an edge to his voice.
Wren smiled. “I need you out in the streets. I want you to keep an eye out for a particular man while you are in town. All you have to do is tell me if you see him, and where it was. That’s it. No stealing, no acrobatics. It’s easy.”
“Are you going to kill him?” Liden asked pointedly.
Wren’s smile disappeared. He took a breath and arched his right eyebrow. “That depends on him,” he said coldly. “If I have to, then I will.”
“I don’t feel good about this,” Liden said as he dropped the remainder of his orange and sat on the table. “I don’t think I can…”
Wren shook his head. “I don’t expect you to agree with my way of life, but would it help if I said I was working to rid the world of a very evil man?”
“More evil than someone who goes around secretly killing people?” Sarta said. All eyes turned to her and she turned ghost white, as if only then realizing she had spoken aloud. She made a gulping noise. Nobody said a thing as they turned back to look at Wren.
Wren started laughing. Not a body-bending, stomach-bouncing kind of laugh, but it was enough that the others all let out the breath they had been holding. “Sarta, I can always count on you to be an honest observer.” He stopped chuckling and leaned on the wall next to him as he folded his arms. “I can’t go into the details, but however evil you think I am, this man is far worse.”
“Wouldn’t he say that about you?” Knell asked.
Wren’s amusement was wearing off quickly. It was one thing to be called out by an impulsive child, but quite another to accept where this conversation was headed. He stroked his chin and thought about it for a minute. “It isn’t your business to know. Just do your job, and then we are even.” He turned to leave the room and then stopped and turned back. “Sarta and Knell, you will both be panhandling tomorrow. I’ll show you a map so you know where to go. Now everyone get some sleep. There are two guest bedrooms on the second floor. The third floor is mine. Eat and drink what you want, but be ready to wake at dawn.” He then turned and left the room.
As he ascended the stairs he could hear Sarta complaining.
“The boys get to be nobles, but we’re beggars? That’s hardly fair!”
“Maybe keep your mouth shut next time,” Hunlok replied.
Wren chuckled to himself all the way up to his room.
*****
The next morning started with the raven squawking outside Wren’s window. The assassin rubbed his eyes and rolled out of his soft bed and onto the floor.
Caw-caw!
“I’m up,” Wren said as he stood and shuffled to the door. He yawned and stretched just before opening the window. The raven stood perched on a beam that stuck out of the wall just for his use as a perch and tilted his head sideways. “Here, I have a nice rye cracker.” He reached into an open jar atop a short dresser and fished out a large cracker. “It’s stale, just like you love.” The bird took the treat and then bounced to the far end of the perch as if to keep the tasty snack away from Wren.
Wren pulled on a pair of linen trousers and then went downstairs. He was surprised to find the guest rooms empty.
Had they tried to escape? No, he would have heard the traps being set off in the night. He made his way to the ground floor and found them in the kitchen, eating the last of the oranges.
“Sure you can’t tell us why this other guy is so evil?” Knell asked just before noisily sucking the last of her orange segment off the peel.
Wren grunted. “It isn’t any of your business, but I tell you what I will do. I will give you all the best advice anyone can ever give.”
The teenagers glanced to each other and then looked back to Wren.
Wren held up a finger. “Find yourself a goal. Figure out what is most important in your life, and then go out and grab it. Don’t let anyone or anything stand in your way.”
“That’s it?” Debir muttered. “Sounds like something my gran would say.
Wren shook his head. “Maybe you should listen to your gran,” he said with a huff. “Did you ever think that she is old enough she might know a thing or two about regret? I bet she has dreams that never came true, and she has done things she isn’t proud of. The advice she and I give to you will help you avoid that. You find what you desire most, and you go and get it. Don’t stop for anything, and don’t settle for less.”
“Will do,” Sarta said grabbing Hunlok’s arm. He shook himself free of her and shoved her last orange slice into his mouth with a satisfied grin.
“Let me guess, your goal is to buy another giant house somewhere,” Liden said.
Wren took in a breath. He could see that traveling with them had made his aura of mystery and danger fade in their eyes. Talking with them more would only risk further deterioration of his power over them. “Let’s not forget that you wrecked one of my homes, nearly got a good man killed, and that I have rescued you from prison on multiple occasions.”
Liden shut his mouth and his head drooped so he could stare at the floor. Wren could tell he’d landed something that got through that thick teenage head.
“To be clear, your trespassing in my house outside of Kyt spoiled a mission. In so doing, you endangered the man who hired me to catch a Merrynian spy. Luckily, I was able to handle that while you all performed your acrobatics, but then you couldn’t even steal the potion without getting caught. Since you have such a sensitive conscience, let me explain further, Liden, that the potion itself was actually the item I was supposed to get as payment for catching the Merrynian spy. So you see, the potion was actually mine. I didn’t involve you in some nefarious scheme after all.”
“But you might kill the guy we are looking for today,” Hunlok pointed out.
Wren folded his arms. “Because he is a bad man, responsible for war crimes. He ordered the destruction of an entire Kresthin village. That means he killed women and children, not just soldiers.” Wren strode up to the table and jabbed his finger onto the wooden surface. “Sarta, you asked me what the difference was, so let me tell you. I don’t hurt women or children. I never have. I only fight men, and they are all either warriors, spies, or criminals in their own right, do you understand?”
Sarta nodded.
“Now, if I do these things to get myself a nice house on an island somewhere so I can retire and live in peace, what difference does it make to any of you? That is my goal, and I will not let anyone get in my way, especially not some brats who are still wet behind the ears and who tried to run away from their safe life of mining down in Ryr.”
“But that isn’t your goal at all, is it?” Sarta said, looking at him as if she was seeing past his rough exterior. “The man you are hunting, did he destroy your village?”
Wren stopped and his mouth fell open just a half an inch. He then clenched his jaw and slapped the table. “No, the man you are looking for didn’t do that. Now that’s the end of it. I’ll get you the things you need for today’s assignments.” Wren stomped out of the kitchen.
“Mining can be dangerous,” Hunlok said just loud enough for Wren to hear before the others shushed him.
Wren went back up to his room and moved to the window. “Foolish children,” he snarled as he leaned out and took in a deep breath of cool morning air. He reached into the jar and pulled out another cracker for the raven. “Here, eat this,” he said.
The raven squawked and took off, its large wings thwapping the air.
“Oh sure, why not? The kids give me attitude, I may as well have a cantankerou
s raven for an assistant.” Wren tossed the cracker out the window. Only then did he realize that his hands were trembling. Rage boiled in his chest and a slight queasiness was seeping into his stomach. That little wise-girl had gotten his adrenaline surging through his body. He smacked the window sill and then closed the window. “What do they know about it anyway?” he asked himself. “They weren’t born on the border. The hardest thing they might have to deal with is a cave-in every now and again. Sure, that’s tragic, but it’s not like war, and it certainly isn’t the same as…” Wren’s words caught in his throat. Even after all these years, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He closed his eyes and counted to twenty, trying to control his breathing.
Inhale.
One.
Exhale.
Two.
So the pattern went until his heart stopped racing and his hands stopped shaking.
Once he was calm, he grabbed the box of supplies he had put together the night before. Ratty clothes for Knell and Sarta to wear. Fancy, expensive clothes for the boys to put on, along with their papers to prove they were nobles from Rial, Merryn’s capitol. There was also a map and five copies of an artist’s rendering of the man they were supposed to find. All they had to do was not screw this one up, and he would be on the last leg of his decades-long journey.
He took the items downstairs and set them on the table in front of the group.
“All right, listen up. Juggler, Little Man, Farm Boy, you will be practicing the correct accent with me as soon as you are dressed. He ignored the looks they exchanged in reaction to the nicknames. You don’t need to worry about all of the mannerisms, just make sure to purchase things and act as if everyone is beneath you, including the guards. If they ask to see your papers, pretend to be insulted. Then, as long as you can get the accent down, you should be fine.”
“I thought you said kids don’t go out without their parents,” Liden said.
Wren nodded. “Most kids don’t. Nobles are special. In any case, you will have enough money that you can pretty much keep the focus on the gold and not your age. Besides, Farm Boy here is large enough to pass as a young adult escorting you.”
“Figures,” Sarta muttered.
“Girls, here is the map. I want you to go here,” Wren said as he indicated to a point on the map. “Memorize that spot, and don’t move from it until you see me walking in front of you. I will stop and give you two silver coins, and that will be your signal to pack up and go home. Understood?”
The two young ladies nodded.
“Now, this is the man we are looking for. Memorize the face as best you can.” Wren handed out the drawings to each of them and then continued. “He is six feet tall. He has a narrow set of shoulders, gray hair that might have just a bit of black left in it, and a scar along his left cheek that is long and purple. He will most likely be walking with a cane, but he does not have a limp; the cane conceals a sword. He thinks of himself as an eccentric, and so will likely be dressed in very fine clothes.”
“Like these?” Hunlok asked as he picked up the clothes meant for him.
Wren nodded. “Like those, but with brighter colors.”
“If we see him, how will we find you?” Liden asked.
“If you see him, try to stay in the same vicinity. Don’t tail him closely, but it would be best if you can see where he is staying. My sources say he is coming to town for two nights, so he must be sleeping somewhere.”
“And he won’t stay with the governor?” Knell asked, chewing her lip and staring at the picture.
“No, he isn’t that kind of guest. He doesn’t come here often, and when he does, he stays somewhere different each time. Be careful that you do not foul this up. This mission is more important than you can imagine.”
They all nodded and studied the pictures carefully.
“Boys, get dressed and meet me in the library. We need to work on your accents.”
*****
It was after lunch by the time Wren felt comfortable enough with the boys’ accents to send them out. He was careful that the boys would leave from the front, while the girls would leave from the stable in the back, and they were not to be seen in the same area under any circumstances. Once the teenagers were on their way, Wren walked to the Dreshire Library, a dreary old building made of simple red brick and built in an unimaginative rectangle. Inside, Kinow was already seated in a tall, wooden chair in front of an empty hearth.
Wren cleared his throat, and then walked to the back of the library. A few minutes later, Kinow approached with a smile on his face. A woman walked beside him. Her auburn tresses fell about the front of her face in orderly curls, lending her a beauty that belied her dangerous nature.
“So, Kinow, this is the heartless mercenary you told me about?” the woman said with a sly grin.
Kinow nodded. “Lady Bourgeon, allow me to introduce you to Jack.”
Ashlyn narrowed her eyes on Wren. “Not the most imaginative name I have heard,” she said wryly.
Wren nodded. “I like to keep things simple.”
Kinow continued. “Jack, allow me to present Ashlyn Bourgeon, youngest sister to the queen of Merryn,” Kinow said.
Wren put on the kind of stale smile he always did when meeting with someone who might try to stab him in the back later. “I heard you have an epidemic of bone rot,” Wren said.
Ashlyn nodded. “It is unlike anything we have seen before. It has ravaged Rial, and my own sister has started showing symptoms.”
Wren nodded and opened his sack. “I have what you will need,” he said. “An alchemist in Kyt had the cure in his shop.”
“How did you come by this information?” Ashlyn asked.
Wren could tell by her voice that this was not a simple, polite inquiry. His answer would dictate the tone for the rest of the meeting. If he answered correctly, things would end smoothly. If he answered in a way that displeased her, then all of her personal guards who were pretending to be library patrons would be summoned by her, and things would go less smoothly.
“After quite a bit of research, I discovered that the epidemic was engineered by someone I believe you know. His real name is in dispute, but he goes by the name of Sturgeon.” Ashlyn’s eyes showed no hint of recognition, but Wren shrugged it off and continued. “You see, he found a particularly talented alchemist in Kyt, and forced him to manufacture a kind of poison that mimics bone rot. The alchemist and I, however, share a mutual contact. So, we set a plan in motion for the alchemist to give me the antidote in return for me killing Sturgeon.”
“Are you certain Sturgeon was behind this?” Ashlyn asked.
Wren nodded. “I am.”
“Why would Sturgeon unleash such a weapon in Rial?” Ashlyn cut in, her voice as cold as death.
Wren shrugged. “That I couldn’t say. Sturgeon never told the alchemist why he wanted the mixture, but shortly after the alchemist made what Sturgeon wanted, people in Rial started contracting bone rot, and it seemed the old medications weren’t getting rid of it.”
“We have had this problem for three months,” Ashlyn said. “I have met with Sturgeon within that time, and hundreds of people have already died from it. You’re telling me he did this right under my nose?”
Wren shrugged. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
Kinow sucked in a breath. Even the soldier knew that such a statement was likely to curry disfavor with Ashlyn. All eyes turned to Ashlyn, wondering how she would react. After a short moment, Ashlyn smiled. Wren’s gamble paid off.
Ashlyn shook her head. “I am afraid I contracted with Sturgeon, though I must admit I never expected such a clever way to solve the problem I presented him with.”
“Problem?” Wren asked.
Ashlyn’s smile widened. “My sister, the queen, does not have the right mind for war. Her strategies are tired and predictable. On the other hand, I know that I could bring a few innovative solutions to the table.
Wren bit his tongue. He knew all too well what
Ashlyn spoke of. She was the intended recipient of Master Driscal’s messages. It was her codex that Wren had now and manipulated to his advantage. Though he couldn’t be sure what her plans were with the mysterious formula, he knew it couldn’t be good.
“Natural causes of death for members of the royal family are hard to come by these days,” Lady Ashlyn continued. “Usurpation is a tricky business. Sturgeon was only supposed to target my sister, but this might even work better than I had hoped. After my sister dies of bone rot, I will naturally ascend to the throne in the face of tragedy, and thereby cement the loyalty of the populace.” She reached out and gently stroked Wren’s shoulder.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but he remained still, waiting to see exactly where this conversation was going.
“Now, with you giving me the cure, I can not only take over for my sister, but I can provide salvation to my people. It’s a stroke of pure artistry.” Lady Ashlyn pulled her hand back and took in a satisfied breath. “Sturgeon is dead?” she asked.
Wren nodded. “I killed him, and the alchemist gave me this. He sends his deepest regrets, and wants you to know that had he not complied, Sturgeon would have made his family suffer.”
Ashlyn nodded. “That was Sturgeon’s way.”
“Put this in the water supply, and things should clear up within a few days,” Wren said as he handed the jar to Ashlyn. “Of course, those for whom the condition has advanced too far will still die, but nearly all will be saved.”
“Pity the disease is too far along in my sister’s case,” Ashlyn said with a smirk.
Wren nodded. “Did you bring my payment?”
Ashlyn reached into her pocket and brought up a small vial of blue liquid. “Here it is.”
Wren smiled and took the vial. “Well then, I believe that will conclude our business.”
Ashlyn snapped her fingers and all of her personal guards stood at attention. Wren glanced around, only able to see a handful of the guards that weren’t hidden behind tall bookshelves. “You have done the kingdom a great service, but I should warn you, I would be most cross if I should find out that you try to warn my sister.”
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