Assassin Adept

by Brian Keller

  Master Worthan’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “I have been considering appropriate punishments, in addition to restricting you to the Guild house. I may think of a variety of methods over the coming months, but for the near-term you shall assist Miss Camilla by cleaning the glassware for her classes. I had considered having you wash dishes in the kitchen, but Miss Camilla would gain greater benefit than our kitchen staff. There are plenty of ladies to handle the plates and bowls, whereas Miss Camilla has no regular help, other than Aden. Besides, you might also benefit through increased interaction with Miss Camilla, her somewhat rebellious streak notwithstanding. I’ll leave it to Miss Camilla to sort out your cleaning schedule. I understand your days are almost as full as hers. You are dismissed.”

  Cooper was in no hurry to begin his punishment and Miss Camilla had appeared frustrated and upset at being unable to save the life of the Thief Adept. He’d have ample opportunity to discuss matters with her either before or immediately following his Anatomy class. There was also no point in heading back to his bed, the breakfast bell would be ringing any time now. He headed off toward the dining hall. He had no idea how far the story of his recent escapades had spread but he had no interest in facing crowds of curious classmates. He’d need to eat quickly and exit the dining hall or risk being held captive by impatient and insistent students.

  In the dining hall, the most discussed topics were the upcoming selection of new Master of Coin candidates and the recent deaths of the Thief Adepts. Thankfully, it seemed that his classmates, other than his ‘roomies’, hadn’t become aware of his connection with the recent events. He was able to fill his belly and escape from the dining hall before anyone seemed to catch on.

  As he left the dining hall, Felis was waiting for him, “Follow me”, he said. As they walked Cooper asked, “Where are we going? I have class in less than an hour.” Felis’ only reply was, “Training Room.” Cooper felt a prickling sensation as the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but he remained silent. Once they’d entered the room Felis spoke again, “Go and stand in the center.” Felis then went over to one of the tables and retrieved two practice blades and a sword. He joined Cooper in the center and dropped the shorter blades at Cooper’s feet, “Pick them up” was all he said. Cooper asked, “Is this part of my punishment?” Except for a slight curl of one side of his mouth, Felis’ face was impassive. He repeated, “Pick them up.” Cooper bent forward and Felis assumed a fighting stance. As Cooper stood, with a blade in each hand, Felis launched himself at him. Cooper was immediately on the defensive. Except for the location, it was like déjà vu. Felis’ movements were very similar to those of Jarell’s. Cooper realized that there was a routine being followed, that Felis was using attacks that allowed him to take advantage of his longer reach. As with his fight just a few hours ago, Cooper fought to protect his vital points and had to accept that he’d be wounded in other places. He wondered how far Felis would go with his attacks.

  Suddenly, while Cooper was redirecting a thrust away from his chest, with a flick of his wrist Felis whipped the sword in a tight circle and struck Cooper’s wrist with the flat of his sword. Cooper’s hand went numb and he was unable to hold the blade. Felis was on him in an instant and Cooper felt half a dozen shallow cuts and slashes across his midsection. The boy fell back onto the floor, gasping for breath. Felis loomed over him, placing the sole of his boot over Cooper’s remaining weapon, “Jarell is a swordsman. The sword is his favored weapon. If you defeated him, it was because he was toying with you, underestimated you. Maybe you’ll live long enough to grow out of being foolish, but you wouldn’t be the first to die before that happens.” Felis turned and walked to the side of the room, placing the sword back on the table. Before he left the room he spoke again, “Miss Camilla teaches your first class today, correct?” He didn’t wait for Cooper to reply, “She can tend those wounds, if you haven’t yet learned to care for yourself.”

  He arrived in the Anatomy classroom and it was still over a quarter of an hour before students would be expected to arrive. He stepped across the hallway to Miss Camilla’s Apothecary classroom, hoping to find her there but that room was locked. He could always pick the lock to get the plants and materials he needed to treat his wounds but he felt that he’d already broken enough rules recently. He returned to the Anatomy classroom and occupied his time studying the skeleton and the anatomical diagrams. Understandably, Felis was very much on his mind at the moment and spending some additional time studying the points where ligaments attached to hold joints together, and where tendons anchored muscle to bone, helped him further understand the anatomical references Felis had made months earlier; as they’d dragged Egil’s limp corpse to the Whitefoam River for disposal. Miss Camilla’s class had already covered tendons and ligaments, and he remembered almost all of the material, but he felt some satisfaction reviewing it as he recalled Felis’ impromptu insights.

  After a few minutes, while Cooper was examining the skull on the skeleton, Miss Camilla entered the room. She noticed Cooper immediately, “Getting an early start? Or just avoiding your classmates?” Cooper chuckled, “Both and neither, Miss. I’m actually waiting for you. He leaned against a table for support as he raised an arm to display the places where his leathers had been pierced and slashed. Miss Camilla rushed forward and gathered him up, “These are new wounds! How did this happen?” Cooper gave her a wan smile, “Felis was pointing out how foolish I’ve been. You might say that his point was well taken…more than once obviously.” Cooper tried to chuckle but interrupted himself with a cough. Miss Camilla arched an eyebrow at him, “Pun intended, I take it?” Cooper nodded, glad that his humor wasn’t lost on her.

  Miss Camilla hustled him next door to dress his wounds. As she gathered her ingredients, Cooper carefully relayed Master Worthan’s decision about his punishment. He also informed her that the scheduling for his chores was left to the two of them, so it wouldn’t interfere with either of their classes. Miss Camilla smiled mildly as she replied, “It will be difficult to punish you for doing a true service for the Guild, but I understand that the punishment is for your judgement and your methods, and nothing to do with your intentions or results. Did Master Worthan happen to mention a duration for this punishment?” Cooper shook his head, “Miss, the impression I got was that it was ‘until further notice’.” Miss Camilla shrugged, “Well, Master Worthan is certainly right about one thing; I can always use the help, and Aden will appreciate the assistance as well. With you handling cleanup, he’ll have more time to devote to formula development and testing.”

  By the time they’d returned to the Anatomy classroom, most of the class was already seated.

  *****

  That morning, Yoren was seated at the table during one of the Prince’s council meetings. One of the Councilman claimed to be speaking on behalf of a group of merchants. It seemed apparent to Yoren that this councilman must be speaking on behalf of someone, since without prompting, this man generally spoke very little but always listened intently. In fact, Yoren couldn’t be sure but this might be the eighth time in a year that he’d even heard the man’s voice, yet now he spoke clearly and at some length. Even more surprising was that he openly questioned the Lord General’s efforts, “Your highness, the increased military presence in the Trade Quarter is disrupting commerce. Several shop owners that I represent have expressed that sales are down fifteen percent since the soldiers have taken up postings. If such a heavy presence of soldiers is needed, then what is the function of the City Watch? If the City Watch is not sufficient, then why do we continue paying for their upkeep? If soldiers have nothing else to do than perform City Watch functions, then couldn’t we afford to reduce the number of soldiers and use that money elsewhere?”

  The Lord General stood abruptly, slapped the top of the table and glared at the councilman with disdain, “I’ll not sit here and listen to this. It’s obvious where your allegiances lie. We’ll be looking into your business practices in short order.�
�� The Prince spoke in calm but clear tones, “We’ll do nothing of the sort, Hennit. You command the armies on my behalf. Do not assume authorities that are not yours.” The Prince turned to the councilman, “You have brought some valid arguments to our attention. I thank you for your candor but caution you against becoming overly bold. In the future I might suggest less oration in the form of professed outrage and more attention spent on how the increase in soldiers actually has an impact on commerce. True, the fifteen percent effect that you’re claiming is, indeed, a significant loss but a signed petition would be even more effective. With a petition in hand, our Lord General might also have less cause to suspect your motives.” The Prince then turned to the commander of his armies, “Hennit, I have recently allowed you considerable freedoms in certain areas of the Trade Quarter. The greatest benefit our city provides to the province, and indeed, to the Kingdom of Rhychevel, is commerce. As my father is wont to mention, our city is the economic gateway to the Kingdom. While I understand that your efforts do little to interrupt the overall flow of coin, I must ask, could you achieve your desired effect with less presence? How much of this increased pressure is actually required and how much is intimidation?” Yoren watched the Lord General’s facial expressions change as the Prince spoke. Now the Lord General considered his words briefly before he replied, “Sire, all reports indicate that the area where I have focused your soldiers is the center of the command structure for the Guild. I might be able to establish control with fewer soldiers, but my purpose is not to simply display a presence. The purpose is to make them feel the weight of your might.” The Prince then turned to face Yoren, “Spymaster, is there any indication that the Guild is “feeling the weight of our might”? Have you noted any change in criminal activity?” Yoren let his shoulders sag momentarily and he looked sidelong at the Lord General. Yoren had to maintain a delicate balance here. He needed to diminish the Lord General slightly but still make it obvious that he was still fully supporting their combined efforts. “Sire, Guild activity does not seem to have curtailed in the slightest.” He paused long enough to flick his eyes over at Hennit Arkady and saw the look of disdain and betrayal cross his face. Before the Prince could speak, Yoren continued, “I have begun increasing informant activity in other areas of the city. I believe we have accurately identified the Guild’s central location, but I suspect that they might be more decentralized than we first realized.” Yoren kept a mask of sincerity and subservience on his face while he inwardly smiled. The subtle implication that the Lord General could not act without the information provided by Yoren’s network of spies was not lost on Arkady and it was obvious that notion did not sit well with him. Yoren knew that he’d need to devote a little attention to rebuilding that relationship, but the reality was that the Lord General’s reputation preceded him, whereas the Spymaster’s efforts often went without notice. Still, it wasn’t “thanks” that he was seeking. He was looking for more tangible rewards when this was all done.

  *****

  Jarell awoke as the sun was breaking over the eastern horizon. He’d managed to swim downriver until he’d passed the Palisade Wall and then dragged himself out of the water and crawled under the rotting shell of a fallen house in Batter’s Field. Thankfully, the blood flow from his deep wound had slowed, but it was still seeping. After being submerged in the Whitefoam, that slow-moving cesspool, his leg would surely become infected. He knew he couldn’t walk to his hiding place in the Waterfront; in fact, he doubted he could walk more than a few steps. Nor could he crawl all the way to the Ruins to hide there. Undoubtedly, he wouldn’t survive in that location, anyway. He needed to get somewhere to heal and recover. Thankfully, most of his plans were already in motion. He had a few crews working in Batter’s Field, but very few knew of him or the fact that their orders came from him. Anonymity, it seemed, could also work against him.

  Chapter 4

  As Cooper walked through the halls of the Guild, on his way to Combat class, he wondered how long it would be before someone decided that he wouldn’t be allowed to keep the sword he’d taken from Jarell. His wishes and fears were working in opposition. He considered hiding the blade, but the members of the Master’s Council had already seen him with it. He thought about getting a scabbard for it, which might help conceal the unique features; but since he might not be allowed to keep it, why bother getting a scabbard for it? He felt confident that Utsef would simply say, “You won it. It’s yours.” But things were not so simple outside the forest.

  Two sentences from Mister Skran seemed to both soothe and increase his concerns in turn, “I have heard rumors of your latest exploits. For however long you’ll carry that thing around”, he flicked his fingers to indicate the sword, “I can teach you how to use it.” True to his word, Mister Skran paired Cooper up with a few older students who had already been practicing with longer blades. Cooper had only just learned some of the basic movements and was further disadvantaged by not having Manifested yet. Mister Skran explained to his partners that Cooper was a complete novice, so for anyone partnered with him training would consist of strike-block-counter combinations only. Mister Skran then pointed out to Cooper that since Jarell’s blade was very light, essentially a rapier, blocking should be done in such a way as to divert or redirect the force of the attack, rather than to attempt to stop or absorb the attack’s power. It would take time to develop this skill, but it was not so dissimilar to what Cooper had already learned while practicing with shorter blades. Mister Skran further explained, “As much as I consider Fencing to be in opposition to our stated purposes, it is how we begin our sword training. Best to learn what other swordsmen learn first. There are two reasons for this: You might someday need to try to pass yourself off as a swordsman, so you’ll need to be able to perform and demonstrate these movements. Secondly, since it’s what swordsmen are taught, learn the techniques to understand and exploit the weaknesses. There are some sword fighting styles that have movements that are specific to those styles. Once you’ve shown a sufficient grasp of the basics, I will teach you what I know of them. Master Loril may yet know some additional techniques as well.”

  Cooper held the sword in his right hand and drew a dagger with his left. Mister Skran shook his head, “Fencing is a single blade activity. Learn the basics first. Practical application comes later.”

  As Cooper changed partners throughout the class period, he saw individual differences in his training partners. Styles were as unique as personalities, it seemed. Still, each partner took the time to help him become familiar with the prescribed techniques and by the end of the class he felt like he had a fair grasp of most of the defensive movements. He just needed to remember the names and the variations, in case he was required to demonstrate them sometime later. He knew his movements weren’t efficient or polished, but that would come with time and practice. Just like everything else.

  As class concluded, he thought back to what he’d learned today; consciously committing as much as he could to memory. As he glanced around the classroom he noticed Loryn as she walked to her archery target to retrieve her arrows. Out of six arrows, there was only one that hadn’t pierced the black circle in the center and even that arrow didn’t have a finger’s breadth of white between it and the black.

  After class, in the dining hall, Cooper expected to be mobbed by students curious to learn more about the most recent events. Instead, almost no one spoke to him but almost all eyes were upon him. He supposed being scrutinized was better than being surrounded, but it was still very disconcerting. It made him feel very self-conscious. Once he’d seated himself, he asked Birt, “Ok. I think I know why everyone is staring at me, but it’s strange that no one is asking for details. Don’t misunderstand, I’m happy to remain un-mobbed, but what’s going on?” Birt shrugged and managed to swallow before replying, “Well, there are a whole slew of rumors floating, nay, flying around. Then there’s the sword you’re still carrying, and the fact that everyone knows there’s a selection process going on to
appoint a new Master of Coin, and the fact that we’ve got two more dead Thief Adepts, and an Assassin Adept under the care of our healers. Add all those to the facts that the rumor is out that the Guild isn’t as wealthy as everyone expected, and everyone knows you’re involved somehow, but no one’s entirely sure about how much of a role you played in any, or all, of those developments… no one knows for sure what to ask you about! The latest rumor is that you’re somehow immune to the poison that’s been used to kill so many of us.” Cooper let his head sag forward as he closed his eyes in disbelief before he replied, “Well, for starters, let me assure you that I’m not immune. In fact, it almost killed me when I inhaled a whiff of the powder the night before Felis killed Egil. It was then that we recovered a few vials of the stuff for Miss Camilla.” Birt chuckled as he set his fork down on his plate, “Well I, for one, am relieved to learn about this. I feel certain that once you leave the dining hall, I will be set upon by hordes of curious onlookers. Any other treasured bits of information that you’d care to provide to me?” Birt arched an eyebrow as he asked. Cooper laughed, more of a grunt than a snort, “I am already in enough trouble without divulging more than I should. The Master’s Council will provide whatever information they feel is pertinent to the student body. The threat to our overall well-being still exists and I expect that our Guild is still surrounded by soldiers.” Birt looked disappointed. Obviously he had hoped for more.