The Priest's Assassin

by V. C. Willis

  “I did not,” scoffed Valiente, pacing in the relic of a lumbermill. “Any idea who created that rumor?”

  “The king himself,” declared the boy. “But none of us in the Royal Guard believe it.”

  “I suppose my reputation still stands?”

  “That, and the fact that instead of us, he gave more power to that pack of murderers he calls the Berserk Brigade.” The boy spat at the ground, scowling. “Look, where did you go all winter? They didn’t even spot you all season in Tavern Way.”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Clearing his throat, Valiente’s voice lowered, “We were being cornered by the Fallen Arbor, so I went north.”

  “North?” The boy gulped. “There’s nothing but The House’s territory… you didn’t!”

  “I had no choice. She was dressed as a mother superior and Father John had a church in Glensdale. It was my only chance at safety.” He halted, his voice shaking as he continued his story, “But I think someone informed Falco who we were. I suspect he and Bishop Marquis are involved in those conspirators somehow. If it weren’t for John and Dante … we’d both be dead.”

  “Dante? As in the Blood Prince of The House Dante?”

  “Why must you repeat things back at me like a sailor’s parrot, boy?” hissed Valiente. “Now tell me, what did they find when they went to her room that night?”

  “It was as you said, sir. They found not one but two assassins in waiting. They both had brands on them from Fallen Arbor.” He paused, and when Valiente motioned for him to continue, he relented, “But when we showed the King, he didn’t believe us. He said they were decoys for the kidnapping. The entire squad was outraged and that’s … that’s when he called those criminals in and had the town criers make it known they were a step above our stations. Something wicked has twisted King Regius’ mind. To abandon and endanger Sonja so…”

  “I hate to tell you, Jimmy, but the King has had no love for his daughter,” confessed Valiente.

  “It can’t be true. The whole city loves her. She’s charitable and wise and—”

  “Not the male heir he wanted,” interjected Valiente. “He’d die before letting her ascend that throne. It’s deplorable.”

  Red Wine smacked my shoulder, whispering low, “That’s what I’ve been wondering about. It seems Fallen Arbor has finally gained power over The Tower. We’re fucked if we can’t pry it back into at least Princess Sonja’s hands.”

  “We still need to go to Captiva City, regardless.” I searched my thoughts and added, “Do you think they’ve even got control of The Church?”

  “Some. Not all. But we’re losing, Half-pint. We’re going to need to convince The Court to break free of the mountains somehow. Lucky for us, I’ve sent someone to start that process for us.” She started to crawl away.

  “Where are you going now?” I hissed.

  “Spook them. Do what you do best and block them in with that wall you call a body.” She scrambled off.

  Shit. I worked my way in silence to where I had sensed they entered and exited the wreck of a building. Hiding behind a piece of wall barely big enough to cover me, I waited. It wasn’t long before I heard someone land hard on the ground. Metal met metal, and I stepped into the exit. The boy slammed into me, bouncing off and landing on the ground with a hard yelp. I offered my hand, and his eyes grew wide.

  “T-t-the Guild!” he shrieked.

  “You two are assholes,” scoffed Valiente, pulling his blade away from Red Wine’s own. “They’re companions.”

  “C-c-companions?” stuttered the boy, who finally took my hand, and I yanked him to his feet. “But they’re from The House!”

  “Technically, we are our own thing,” Red Wine corrected.

  “But I’m of The House and wish to make peace. Princess Sonja makes it hard to say no.” I chuckled.

  “Is … is what he says true?” marveled the boy.

  “Yeah.” Valiente rubbed his neck and nodded. “Yes, it’s true. It seems both sides are being played the fool and pitched against one another. Falco is dead, and a peace treaty is being considered…” Sheathing his sword, he met my gaze and with a dangerous tone added, “…if King Regius will allow it.”

  “Him and Bishop Marquis,” added the boy.

  “Bishop Marquis?” I squatted to be eye-level with him. “Tell me what’s he been up to.”

  “Well, he’s become an advisor to King Regius.”

  My blood ran cold, and I shot a glare to Red Wine, angry as I spoke, “Did you know?”

  “There were rumors, but now that I know, I’ll send word.” Turning to Valiente, she crossed her arms and tapped a foot in impatience, scolding him like a child, “What other information would you like to share? At the rate we’re going, we’re a pack of fugitives forcing our way back into the city.”

  “I didn’t expect things to change this much over winter.” He gave the boy a few hearty pats and handed him a pouch of gold. “Thank you, Jimmy. I would wait until we start crossing the battlefield and give you safe passage as a distraction. They’re after us anyhow. Now go.”

  Stepping to the side, I let the boy run off. “So, does this mean Fallen Arbor has both The Tower and The Church in their grasp?”

  “Afraid so,” declared Red Wine. “So, the question is, do we bother to go to Captiva City at all?”

  Valiente tapped his lips, his eyes searching for answers. “As much as I dread the idea, Princess Sonja needs to be returned. She can’t aid us on the run, but with my trusted guardsmen, we should be able to regain some control if…” He met my eyes, his expression grave. “…you and I manage to take down the Berserk Brigade.”

  “Agreed. Seeing as Ashton is after Fallen Arbor…” She sashayed over and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. Shocked she’s not on her tippy toes. “…taking down the Berserk Brigade will tell Landon we’re coming. As for Bishop Marquis, he’s a target of The Guild, so any assistance from your inside connections would warrant we owe you one.”

  “Can your people also watch over Sonja?” Valiente furrowed his brow in worry. “And I might be needing passage out of the city after all of this.”

  “Ah, agreed. We can promise you safe passage and a spy among the maids can assist us.” Red Wine nodded her head.

  “One of the maids is a spy?” gaped Valiente, dragging a hand over his face in disbelief. “Which one?”

  “Does it matter?” Red Wine shrugged, snickering. “They told us you were honorable and an open book at that. I have to say, the reports of you have made you an especially important player to keep active and alive.”

  “You make it sound as if you could’ve assassinated me on more than one occasion!” The anger in his face made it flush red.

  She pulled on my shoulder, whispering, “I don’t know why he thinks we hadn’t thought of the idea considering where he falls in the caste system.”

  Sighing, I cleared my throat to set the conversation forward once more. “So, John and I are going to be headed for The Church and aiming to be in the Catacomb Library. Any chance we might be able to sneak ourselves in there without news spreading we are there? I want enough time to see if I can’t find more about soul weapons.”

  “What makes you think The Church has answers on that?” Red Wine tilted her head in alarm.

  “Books John brought back trying to research answers about the Fanged Lady.”

  “Soul weapons … like the Fanged Lady? There’s more than one of those damned things?” Now Valiente seemed alarmed. “You can’t be serious? Why would anyone make more of those things?”

  “Power. Greed … give me a reason that isn’t the same drive to send men to kill or wage war here in Grandmere or on the Old Continent.” Valiente pursed his lips, a shudder shaking his shoulders at my words. “Exactly. The question here is why does The Church hide the books, or is it because at one point Falle
n Arbor was using it as a headquarters and had to abandon them there? In fact, Red Wine, do they have a headquarters?”

  “Now that you mention it, we suspected the docks in Captiva City, but considering we can’t get a solid line of information in, you have a point. They must be using this as a control point…” She pulled out a map, placing it on an old table in a plume of dust. “Look. Their ships have been seen in both the Red Wave Bay and Amethyst Harbor. Considering they have more advanced equipment, I bet they can navigate the Hidden Swells on the east side of the continent.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Valiente leaned in, marveling over the details on the maps and reading the various notes.

  “How else could Bishop Marquis not only slip past The Guild, but beat us here with time to take over?”

  My stomach twisted. Shit! She’s right.

  “Look here, northeast of Glensdale.” She tapped the map. “There’s an old broken fort here, maybe even a castle. We call it Abandonner l’Espoir or Abandon Hope. Not one informant has found a way in or out, nor signs of anyone being there. There’s a great plateau and hard cliff to the sea where it stands. Perhaps, this whole time, we missed the fact there’s an entrance by ship. The place is barren besides a singular black tree said to predate the first settlers. In fact, the whole place gives me dark magic vibes.”

  “If they have a stronghold that large, then we’ll need Glensdale to tighten the eastern borders,” I concluded, heart racing with the anxiety to see danger so close to home.

  “I spoke to Ruth and your father before we left. The Guild is assisting, but The House isn’t strong enough alone. If Princess Sonja can sway The Tower that would weaken a resource, but … she’ll need time to untangle the politics.” Red Wine then tapped the map to the north, a village on the edge of the Perines Mountains. “Frank the Immortal is here in Winter’s Perch and won’t be going anywhere for a while. I think you might have a chance to sway them to join our cause, Dante.”

  “Why me? Don’t tell me it’s because I look like my brother…”

  She chuckled, nodding her head. “Precisely, I mean, it swayed me. Now, if they cave, they might lead us into Prevera, and if we can convince The Court with enough evidence of Fallen Arbor’s current whereabouts, they will take up arms.” She glanced up and the skeptical expressions brought an exasperated sigh from her. “I’m not joking. You’re both too young to know this, but they turned on the other two for conspiring with the Old Continent. Later, they only waged battles against Falco Vendecci’s battalion until they lost. To this day, we believe Landon and his witch were involved.”

  “Witch?” Valiente hissed, nudging her with an elbow. “And now who is the one withholding information!”

  “There’s only rumors,” she countered, elbowing him back until he knocked into me.

  “Let’s not squabble like children,” I drawled, rubbing my forehead. “Regardless, we will get what information we can here, for as long as we are safe and double back to Glensdale.”

  “Agreed.” Valiente glanced at Red Wine. “And you, Assassin?”

  “Depends on the situation.” Again, she tapped the map on a peninsula to the west of Captiva City. “If we get separated, I think Terahime is a better option. They’d expect you to go to Glensdale, and you may put the city in danger. From there, we can charter a ship and sail north through the Frigid Waves. Depending on the ice, we can either backtrack along Willow Waters and come into Winter’s Perch from the west side of it.”

  “W-wait. Isn’t that the Moaning Forest of Wayward Souls? Isn’t that an old battlefield and dumping ground for those with the Madness?” Valiente stood tall, crossing his arms. “You can’t expect us to navigate that mess, do you?”

  Red Wine chuckled, rolling up her map. “Look, that’s been a good century or so ago. Don’t tell me you now take children’s ghost stories as fact, knight?”

  “I don’t.” Valiente puffed out his cheeks, and we all followed her out of the old mill. “But that’s rather risky.”

  She halted, and we both nearly slammed into her. “Look, the Berserk Brigade are peons to Landon. I’m the only one who has ever had to fight an official pack of Fallen Arbor operatives. You don’t know how forgiving this plan will be. I’m willing to bet all of us will be wounded and in need of healing if shit goes badly in Captiva City. And I promise, it’s going to be hell when that moment hits.”

  She marched off, and we kept on her heels, the silence between us heavy. I hate this. Spending my entire life studying the history, and not one damn book had any of this darkness in it. Is this the dark past of Grandmere you wanted me to be free of, Father? I now see why. Nothing good will come of what we will put in motion … our lives are forfeited to waging war and running to live to see tomorrow. I’m sorry…

  Chapter 19

  Sacrifices and Saviors

  Walking into the tavern, John and Sonja were still carrying on their conversation at the table where I left them. Red Wine and Valiente had headed for the blacksmith, and I was sent to retrieve the clergymen. I feel like a hunting hound today. I paused at the threshold, John’s eyes locked on mine, and I flinched. Is he angry with how long I took? Or did something happen while I was gone? He knitted his brow and stood.

  “I take it we’ve run short of time to relax,” he offered, assisting Sonja to her feet. “It seems we are to make our final preparations, Mother Superior. Are we crossing tonight?”

  “N-no. Early morning in hopes the fog will cover us.” Ah, he’s fretting over the fact we can’t stay here any longer.

  “I see.” Sonja nodded her head. “So, where are we going? What do you need us to do?”

  I motioned for them to follow me, and we marched down the street to the blacksmith’s shop. Three knocks and Bessie opened the door to the shop across the way. She stepped to the side, closing and locking it behind me. We followed her back to the room I had been in before. This time, the fire was warm and welcoming, the chest of weapons pulled out into the open and chairs arranged for everyone to be able to sit. This is what I expected to see the first time.

  “Now, Father, you’re first.” She motioned for Sonja and me to sit. “Forgive me, but I need to size you up, and the coat needs to go to make sure this does its job.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” John winked at me, and I shot my gaze away, thankful for the mask.

  As John pulled the coat off, he began to unbutton the shirt as well, and Bessie fussed, “Unless you plan on wearing this against the skin—”

  “I am. I aim to hide the fact I have it on at all.” He pulled the blouse free, his muscles glowing in the firelight.

  The mark of The Church made Sonja and Bessie both gasp.

  John frowned. “Is there something the matter?”

  “J-john,” stuttered Sonja, who stood in alarm. “Who did that to you?”

  He smirked, a baffled expression on his face. “Don’t all the priests get one, Mother Superior?”

  “Y-yes, but not this one.” She closed the gap between them, daring to touch the scarred lines. “Who put this mark on you?”

  “Bishop Marquis,” my voice cut across the room, sour as I spoke, “and I was the one who held him down for it. So, tell me, Mother Superior Sonja, what isn’t right about his mark? Is it not the mark of an ordained priest?”

  “It’s not.” Her answer knocked the color from John’s face, and every muscle in my body tensed. “This is the mark of a saint. Priests only get a small branding here, at best, the size of my hand between the shoulders but this … no one has been ordained a saint for over a century. I don’t understand…”

  “It was meant to kill me.” John mustered a smile, warranting a sigh from me. “He had covered it in poison and … I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.”

  “John, this isn’t right. He shouldn’t have had access to that artifact—” Her voice was a shriek.

  “Do
n’t expect me to call you Saint John or Saint Thompson,” I blurted, following his lead to break the tension.

  Sonja blinked, her eyes bouncing between us as John started to laugh. “R-right. Please don’t. It’s awkward enough when you call me Father John.” John’s face flushed, and he turned back to Bessie. “I’m ready to be fitted, madame.”

  “I’m so sorry… I didn’t know…” Sonja sat down, lost in her thoughts as she clutched the cross on her necklace. “I didn’t realize how far the corruption had grown. Now as I return, I’ll have to make some of the hardest decisions as...” Choking her next words, she looked to me in desperation.

  “It’s too deep to bleed out now that Fallen Arbor is involved. The flesh must be cut at this stage of the infection,” I warned, and she nodded.

  “I see.” She bit her lip, eyes watery with the wave of emotions her thoughts brought.

  “And I’m afraid it’s rather a grim ordeal to go through, even after cutting down one like Falco.” I watched as Bessie measured John, his whisperings making her laugh and steal glances at me. “But it’s vital to get you back there, Mother Superior. You might be able to shift the tide before it’s a complete loss.”

  “You think so?” I could barely hear her mumbled words. “But I’m just the…” She became aware of the extra entity and corrected her course. “…a nun. Not exactly the next bishop, by any means.”

  “Honey, you ain’t foolin’ anyone.” I smiled at Bessie’s interjection. How much information did the brigade leave behind? “We’re all aware you’re our beloved Princess Sonja.”

  “Um!” Sonja’s eyes bulged as John and I chuckled.

  “And you can tell King Regius he can shove his brigade where the sun doesn’t shine.” She pinched John and wagged a finger at me. “He needs to take a lesson from this man, here. In order to run The Tower proper, he’s someone I’d gladly call King.”

  A chill snaked up my spine as the word King stabbed into me. “My father is a very capable man who is more than happy to end this Civil War.”