by S. K. Ng
“Would you kill us?” asked Hatchet.
“She would,” answered Forge.
“Don’t test me!” warned Dawn as she slowly tighten her grip on the handle of her sword.
Suddenly, they heard a voice speaking to them.
“Conflict _ so even amongst you cold, heartless creatures there is one of this!” exclaimed Clover.
The male assassins jumped to their feet, obviously shocked. Dawn was caught by surprise too. They turned toward the direction of the voice. And there they were, Clover, Spirit and a stream of Sollenthars, standing amongst the trees on the same side of the stream as Dawn and her fellow assassins.
“How’s your friend?” asked Dawn sarcastically.
“Alive _ he is more of this than what you will be, assassin,” replied Clover.
“I’m the assassin here, the expert killer, so I’ll be the judge of that!” corrected Dawn.
“Number _ yours of this is only four, against 14 of us; so I think you are too cocky, assassin!” Clover pointed out.
“When my blade is in your body, we’ll see who’s cocky!” retorted Dawn.
“Blades _ what if ours of these are in your body instead, assassin?” said Convian Rod Sayson sarcastically, who together with another stream of Sollenthars had just appeared out of the trees slightly downstream.
The assassins turn and look downstream, and see Rod and his subordinates there. Forge and Hatchet betray a slight expression of panic on their faces. Dart’s face wears the expression of acceptance. Dawn’s face betrays no emotions at all.
“Then I’ll see you in hell!” yells Dawn as she throws Airblades at Clover, Spirit and her subordinates.
The other assassins do the same to Rod and the others.
Rod and his subordinates dive for cover. A scream of pain fills the air. Rod realises that one of his subordinates has been hit. Then another scream is heard upstream, and he realises that another Sollenthar has been hit.
“Scatter!” commands Dawn.
The assassins sprint away in different directions.
Clover sends a series of Frozen Tridents at Forge. The first one misses Forge completely. The second one cuts through Forge’s shoulder, causing him to scream in anguish. The third and forth ones penetrate the unfortunate assassin in the mid torso and silence him for all eternity.
Dawn dives and rolls forward on the ground, avoiding a volley of Heat Bursts. She sends a reply of her own with a few Airblades. Clover takes cover behind a large tree. Just as she turns to look for the whereabouts of Dawn, she sees a shiny blade come slashing down towards her. Acting instinctively, she rolls away on the ground and pulls out her sword on the recovery. Dawn stares Clover deep in the eyes. Clover returns the stare with equal ferocity.
“Interfere _ do not do of this, for I shall deal with her alone,” commands Clover.
Clover’s subordinates rush off to give chase to the two remaining assassins. Spirit, however, stays behind to witness the duel, and to finish Dawn off if Clover fails.
Dawn steps forward with her right leg and executes a Right Horizontal Cut to Clover’s mid-torso. Clover blocks the attack with her sword while sliding away sideways to her own right side. Metal clash on metal! Clover counter-attacks with a Right Diagonal Downwards cut while stepping forward with her right leg, to which Dawn steps backwards with her right leg and block. Once again metal clash on metal! Dawn swings her sword overhead and executes a Vertical Downwards Cut. Clover pulls her right leg back and shifts her weight to her rear leg while simultaneously lifting her sword up to block Dawn’s cut. She just barely manages to perform the block. Dawn’s sword slides down the length of Clover’s blade from the resultant impact and then slides off it at the tip. As soon as Dawn’s sword had slid off, Clover executes a Front Horse Kick towards Dawn’s mid torso with her right leg. Dawn cringes in pain and gives out a scream as Clover’s ball of the foot drives into Dawn’s rib cage. Dawn stumbles backward but manages to regain her alertness and battle composure.
Dawn eyes Clover with extreme anger. Clover returns the stare coldly. Clover sprints forward with a stab to Dawn’s throat, to which Dawn slides back a step with her left leg while simultaneously knocking Clover’s sword sideways to Dawn’s left, then swings the sword over to perform a Right Diagonal Downwards Cut. Clover instinctively steps her right leg back and blocks Dawn’s cut. But as Clover steps a half step forward with her right leg and swings her sword over to perform a Right Diagonal Downwards Cut of her own, Dawn steps forward with her left leg and jabs the hilt of her sword hard into Clover’s face, causing Clover to stumble backwards momentarily. But Dawn receives no opportunity to follow up as Clover regains her stance almost immediately.
Frustrated, Dawn throws an Airblade at Clover. Clover rolls on the ground to avoid it and executes a Frozen Trident Spell at Dawn. Dawn smashes the Frozen Trident with her sword but some of the fragments pierce her arms and chest. Dawn stumbles backward and falls to one knee. Blood begins to stain her black shirt. Clover smiles. Dawn frowns in frustration. Throwing some black pellets on the ground in front of Clover, Dawn causes a small explosion to occur. From the ensuing flash and smoke, Clover becomes temporarily disorientated. Seizing the opportunity, Dawn sprints into the maze of trees. Clover and Spirit dash in behind her. Clover’s eyes, however, are still unfocussed as she keeps seeing patches of white and her ears are still ringing. Then the both of them come to a sudden stop. Dawn is nowhere to be found!
Clover and Spirit made their way back to where they had left the others. They found Rod and a few of the Sollenthars examining two dead bodies by the stream. The body of the assassin known as Dart was placed next to the body of Forge, the assassin whom Clover had managed to kill.
“Luck _ have you any of this with them?” asked Clover.
“Luck _ none of this did I have with these two, but enough of it to be still alive and unwounded,” answered Rod.
Clover sensed a bit of anger in Rod’s reply.
“Problem _ of this, what is it?” asked Clover directly.
“Problem _ of this is that two of our subordinates are dead and five more are wounded and all of this was in exchange for just these two pieces of garbage!” expressed Rod in frustration.
Clover nodded her head. She understood how Rod felt. She felt the same way. But getting frustrated served them no useful purpose.
“Price _ in everything there is of this to be paid, and two dead Sollenthars and five wounded ones constitute a small amount in exchange for the continued safety of Prince Patrum,” she pointed out.
Rod took in a deep breath to calm himself down. He felt slightly ashamed. A seasoned veteran such as himself should have known better.
“Apologise _ I do of this, for I have lost many of our fellow soldiers in many battles, but they were all lost to foreign enemies, not to traitors within the kingdom; and this part is what I find truly hard to accept and to forgive, that Fallsians would murder Fallsians for money. Promise _ I do of this to you that my sword will be drenched in their blood when the end comes,” declared Rod as he looked disgustingly at the two dead bodies, spat at one of them in the face, bowed to Clover and left to check on the wounded Sollenthars.
From a distant treetop, Dawn looked down at the stream where her two fallen comrades lay and a single teardrop flowed down her unmasked cheek. She had lost a few more friends and comrades on this day, a sad addition to the ones she had lost a few days ago. First to be lost amongst the ones she held most dear to her was Joy, and then it was Dart. They were her childhood friends, and they were gone, ripped away from her by the Sollenthar’s swords and sorcery. She felt extremely sad, but as Lead Assassin of the Shadow Deathmerchant Clan, even the two teardrops that she had shed were two teardrops too many.
And Dawn was confused as well. She could not understand why they were hated so much to the point that their bodies were violated after death. Does honour amongst warriors carry no weight with these soldiers? Are battlefield courtesies just a matter of decoration to them?
Did they not realise that assassins were warriors too? Did they not realise that she and her comrades fought against oppression? Fought for freedom and independence? Even assassins, the dispensers of death, treated their dead victims with more respect that any of these soldiers would ever know or understand, so truly, who was evil here? Who was the garbage here?
Wiping away the single tear drop, Dawn disappeared into the shadows. She was on a hunt! She was on a mission! But it seemed that she would have to complete the mission on her own, for she was sure that Hatchet had abandoned both the mission and their clan. There was an evil prince that needed to be killed. And it was up to her to kill him!
Minvian Thorn Sayvion looked up at the bright midday sky. He took a gulp of water from his container. He had slept in a cluster of tall grass just before dawn but now he was seated in it and wide awake. His body felt sore. His spirits were down. Not only had he failed to rescue Caramel but now there were two groups of Serpentians hunting him. The odds were highly stacked against him. He had no choice. He had to get to the Fallsian border. And he had it in his sight, or at least the distant outline of it. The Eastern Falls Range forms the natural border between Free Falls and Serpentia; and it was about two days’ journey away. After hitting the range, he could turn south towards Fort Eastguard, or northwest, towards the smaller town garrison at Crystalflow if it was still there. He had no idea of the fate of Crystalflow Town or any of its surrounding areas that had resulted from the Serpentian raid more than seven months ago. But one thing he was sure of, Eastern Falls Province remained free, because if it was captured by the Serpentians, he would have seen a whole lot more Fallsian slaves at Fightlord Forktongue’s metal ore mine.
Thorn got up and crouch-walked in the sea of grass. He was taking a huge risk travelling during daylight, but he did not care anymore. He was angry and frustrated; and fed up of being hunted. It was time for him to make his mad dash for the border and fight it out with anyone who stood in his way. On the positive side, there were very few Serpentian nomads wandering around in these parts of Serpentia due to its close proximity to the Fallsian border, so he felt he was quite safe from being discovered. The sun was halfway down the bright blue sky when he finally took a rest. He lay down flat on the ground and stretched his aching back several times.
Suddenly, he heard something. It was something that made his heart sink! Voices! He heard human voices arguing over something. And one of the voices was Fightlord Forktongue’s.
“That slave belongs to Battlelord Doomrattle!” yelled Fightlord Forktongue.
“That slave pissed Battlelord Constrictor off, so we have the right to kill him!” yelled another Serpentian.
“That’s not for you or your battlelord to decide, highminion! He belongs to Battlelord Doomrattle, and only Battlelord Doomrattle has the right to decide his fate!” retorted Fightlord Forktongue.
“And I’ve told you that I don’t care what you think!” insisted Battlelord Constrictor’s highminion.
“And I’ve told you that he’s my battlelord’s property. My battlelord wants him whipped, not killed! He’s useless to us if he’s dead!” Fightlord Forktongue pointed out.
The highminion spat at the ground in front of Fightlord Forktongue and drew out his sword.
“Are you threatening me? You arrogant piece of shit! You’re just a highminion! Who are you to threaten me!?” Fightlord Forktongue yelled out in indignation.
“I’m the will of my battlelord and I’ll kill anyone who goes against his wishes! Don’t bother to doubt me! I don’t have a liking for Doomrattle or his subordinates, you included! My parents were killed by Doomrattle eight years ago! I’ll be very happy to avenge them! If I can’t kill Doomrattle today, at least I can kill some of his subordinates! Now you listen here, you stupid fightlord! Go home! Go polish your battlelord’s shoes and kiss his rear if you want to live another day longer! I’m going to hunt down and that Fallsian slave, and you’re not standing in my way!” warned the highminion.
“I’m going to take your head off for this!” replied Fightlord Forktongue as he too drew out his sword.
“No, I shall take your head off!” said the highminion.
Thorn Sayvion watches in amusement as the highminion charges at Fightlord Forktongue on horseback. The highminion executes a Right Horizontal Cut at the fightlord. The fightlord’s horse sprints forwards at the very last moment while its rider bends his body backwards and down low to the horse’s back and executes a Right Upwards Diagonal Cut. The highminion’s face cringes in pain, yet he remains silent. The fightlord turns around and makes good on his promise. The highminion’s head comes off with one sharp, precise cut.
Fightlord Forktongue pointed his bloodied sword at the rest of the highminion’s subordinates.
“Who’s next?!” Fightlord Forktongue asked rhetorically.
All were silent.
“Go back to Fort Constrictor, all of you! Leave the Fallsian to me. Now go!” he commanded.
None of the highminion’s subordinate moved, much to the fightlord’s surprise, and also enragement.
“With all due respect, fightlord, we’re not under your authority! We’ll stay, escort you and observe your hunt. We’ll not help you, however. And when the Fallsian slave kills you, we’ll hunt him down and do to him what our battlelord commands of us. Then we’ll bring your bodies back with us and we’ll hang all of you in front of Fort Constrictor!” said one of the late highminion’s deputies, a midminion by rank.
“And what if we manage to capture the Fallsian instead, what would you do then?” asked Fightlord Forktongue.
“Then we’ll leave you and consider ourselves failed. The highminion’s body will be proof of our efforts. Battlelord Constrictor will forgive us and he will consider the issue resolved! We’ll require compensation, though, for the highminion whom you’ve killed,” answered the midminion.
Fightlord Forktongue gave out a loud chuckle.
“Compensation?” he asked rhetorically.
“Compensation for my battlelord for his loss of a subordinate and for the highminion’s family for their loss of a loved one. 100 gold coins for my battlelord and 150 gold coins for the highminion’s dependants. And if you refuse, I shall ride back to Fort Constrictor … and bring my battlelord’s entire Serpenest to hunt you down! Just you, no one else!” answered the midminion.
Fightlord Forktongue gave half a chuckle. As incredulous as the midminion’s threat had seemed, it was well known amongst the Serpentians that Battlelord Constrictor did occasionally make decisions as such. He had heard of another fightlord who had received such a fate just because he had made a rude remark about the battlelord’s favourite horse.
“I ought to cut out your tongue, midminion!” he said rather unconvincingly, with the confidence missing from his voice.
“And I ought to despatch my riders to call for reinforcements. My battlelord’s entire Serpenest will hunt you down. Then I’ll personally cut your tongue out, fightlord!” responded the midminion confidently.
“All right! You win, for now! Let’s get going before we lose that stupid slave!” agreed the fightlord reluctantly.
Fightlord Forktongue wiped the blood off his blade and returned it to its sheath at his waist. He gave the midminion a disgruntled look. He then came up with a plan to embezzle some of the metal ore mine’s profit to pay off the compensation demand. It was a small matter, as far as he was concerned. Battlelord Doomrattle was not a meticulous person. He would not be aware of 250 missing gold coins in an operation that produced approximately 3000 gold coins a month.
Thorn witnessed the whole event with a sense of shock! In a way, he felt flattered that he was worth killing for. Then he came to his senses! Serpentians have always been violent, wild and unpredictable. This was the reason why his ancestors had left Serpentia in the first place. He looked at the sun. It was now low on the horizon, but there would be no nap time for him, at least not for the next few days.
The 28th Morning of Third Mo
nth of Dry Season turns to hell for Thorn as arrows start flying his way. He quickens his pace and runs in a zigzag pattern. He reaches the base of Eastern Falls Range and starts climbing the steeply elevated rocky terrain that forms the high ridgeline between the mountain peaks. Arrows land either side of him, embedding themselves into the hard earth or bouncing off the solid rocks and boulders around him. But Thorn does not return a single shot. The time is not right for such an action. Body-drenching sweat break out across his body as he desperately climbs the steep rocky surface in front of him. Finally Thorn reaches some sort of ledge and without delay, turns around and shoots off two arrows at his Serpentian pursuers in quick succession. Two desperate screams fill the mountain side as two arrow-struck Serpentians tumble to their deaths. Then Thorn slings his bow, turns around and grabs the bit of rocky surface in front of him and starts climbing again.
After a quarter of an hour, the Serpentians reach the level section that Thorn had reached earlier and begin shooting arrows at him. Thorn ignores their deadly arrows and keeps striving upwards. He knows that none of the Serpentians are shadow-archers and the common Serpentians are too impatient to be good, accurate archers.
Thorn is now half way up the mountain ridge and approximately a quarter of the way up to the mountain and he sees to his side a small boulder which he desperately tries to kick loose. After a few attempts, Thorn gains success as the small boulder breaks loose and goes tumbling down, smashing the head of one of the Serpentians and knocking another one off balance and causing him to fall to his painful death. Thorn then pushes himself upwards toward the peak.