“I’m going to take Raft into the city to see Karla before we leave tomorrow. We’ll be back in an hour.”
“We’re both perfectly safe,” Daryl said before escorting Serena. They walked towards Helen’s. “How’s your research gone?”
“Well enough. I’m sure there will be time to continue when we get back,”
He smiled.
“I’m glad you’re planning on returning with us. I have hoped that you feel at home here. That I could instate you as my Royal Assassin even.”
She took a deep breath at that name. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the new title. It felt dangerous to assume the mantle, but it also excited her. Power came in names, and Royal Assassin felt powerful. However, the title could cause complications in the guild.
“We’ll see. I belong to a guild.”
“Of course.” He bit his lip, lost in thought. “Do you plan on bringing any books with you?”
“Just Legends of Acreage. Just in case.”
Even if the creature was gone, she worried it would return. If it wanted the book, it would. This time she’d be prepared. He nodded. His face showed understanding, but there was trepidation as well.
“What’s wrong?”
“Unfortunately, the King wishes to see me before we leave… I doubt it will be to wish me well.”
Serena felt her heart seize at the reality. The King would leave a mark. Another way to remind Daryl of his place. It sickened her.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know. It’ll be alright in the end. Tomorrow will be better.” She smiled at his words.
“How goes the preparations?”
“We’re ready.” He blurted. She noticed the tension in him. He was thinking about what the King wanted with him. “How’s your arm?”
She looked at the bandage and shrugged.
“Better. Doesn’t hurt,”
“I should finish a few things before I rest. I’ll leave you to your work.” He said as they reached Helen’s. He bowed his head at her and walked off alone.
She stood in front of the door and took another deep breath, trying to settle her emotions. She worried about him. The King was cruel, and she could only imagine what he would do to Daryl as a parting gift. The idea made her nervous, so she returned to thoughts of her research. Despite all her reading, she knew she would not find all the answers she sought.
She walked inside where Helen greeted her with a smile.
“You’re early,”
“I wanted to get some extra rest tonight.”
“It’s exciting that you’re going to be fighting soon,”
Serena looked at Helen. Her constant companionship and support had been more comforting than she wanted to admit. Helen cared without judgment. A rare thing anywhere, especially to a native.
“Before I leave, I wanted to tell you something.” She said, not believing what was rising to her lips. Helen stood and walked closer standing before her.
“My name is Serena Nightshade. I’m the Death Sparrow, also known as the Assassin of Acreage.”
Helen smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around Serena, hugging her tight.
“I know. Wesley told us when he had you stay with us. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me ever since! I’m so happy that you did! We need to celebrate! Tea!” Helen said, rushing towards the kitchen.
Serena walked to her room and looked at the bag she had been packing with supplies in preparation. She slid the book of legends on her nightstand in and checked her vials of antidotes. She looked at them sadly. She wished she had more. No doubt the Samorians would bring assassins. Samorian assassins were known for their affinity for poisons. This was enough for her in case of emergency, but anyone else? There were too many people she would want to share these with. That was a problem, too. As was the reality that no matter how hard she would try, war would claim lives. It was an inevitability. Altara the Goddess of Death would welcome those of Acreage into her embrace and walk with them to their eternal life in the underworld, but what of the Templarians with no Gods to protect them? What was their fate but darkness? She was never into Gods or religion in general, but after so much reading about the magic of Acreage and its connection to the Gods, it felt like a constant presence. Whether or not she liked it was a part of her. Even more so as she possessed the gift of magic. She released a breath she held as Helen walked out with tea.
“Come on!” Helen called, leading Serena from the doorway towards the parlor. Serena followed and Helen poured out two cups. Helen sipped happily, a lock of her red hair escaping from her chignon. She was beautiful and kind. It felt odd for those two qualities to coexist in one person. Serena sat there looking at Helen, she felt dread about leaving. She may never again return. She may never again sip her spiked tea and laugh about simpler things. She may never again feel such a sisterly affection. Instead, she was going to war, and war was not the same as taking a mission from the assassins. War comprised many battles with countless sacrifices. It could be years of fighting before the Samorians finally felt safe enough from the King to stop attacking and return to their land.
For a moment she wondered again if killing the King would solve this. If the Samorians felt the threat was gone, would they just leave Acreage alone? No. She thought bitterly. If the King died, they’d see Acreage ripe for the taking. It wasn’t like they weren’t already engaging in a battle. If they felt, they could win and take Acreage for themselves, they would. It would provide them with a strategic advantage on the main continent.
No. The Samorians had to lose and accept defeat. Only then would they leave without intentions of returning.
“Serena!” She looked over at Helen, who smiled gently. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for some time. What are you so worried about?”
“It’s nothing,”
“Wesley is smart. He’ll make sure to preserve as much life as possible.”
“Doesn’t the King think it’s unusual to send his Captain of the Royal Guards to battle instead of protecting him?”
“The King is arrogant, but he doesn’t need Wesley. He has his own guard who will keep him safe. They dress in the same colors as the Royal Guards to avoid notice, but Wesley has no control over them. They answer only to the King himself. Wesley’s company is often charged with being a part of the Royal Army since his father is a General.
Neither man thinks highly of their sons, so they often try to send them to war. Either to get them killed or make men out of them, I’m not sure.” She took a sip of tea as Serena thought. “Is there anything else I can answer before you go?”
Serena smiled at Helen. Helen wanted to help in whatever way she could. So, Serena asked any question she had about the castle and who worked inside under the guise that she was worried leaving would make it vulnerable. It was priceless information that gave her ideas of areas to exploit. Getting into the King’s personal guards would the best way to the King. When the time came, that would be her way in. Again, she felt trepidation in telling any of this to Gwayne. She didn’t feel she could trust him. Something about him still bothered her. He could lose patience with her and ruin everything if she wasn’t careful. It didn’t help that her letters to him were much more spread apart than agreed upon. She constantly fed him lies and excuses, hoping to keep him at bay, but she knew. If she didn’t give him something more soon, she’d face the consequences. She’d send him one that night. Inform him of their move to Bathon. Feed him the intel about the King’s guards. It was the only way to keep him from coming after her.
When Helen retired for the night, she snuck out and sent her letter. Watching the pigeon fly away, she hoped it would be enough. The assassins needed to stay out of her way.
◆◆◆
Chapter Fourteen
Serena stood before the armor she was supposed to wear to march with the army. Her fingers danced above the cold metal. The crest of the king was engraved in the chest plate. The phoenix. A magical creature for a land that didn’t b
elieve in magic. She wondered why it was on their crest. Wouldn’t the King discard it like he did all other signs of magic? She knew very little of Templarian history. Perhaps there had been a time they too possessed magic. Perhaps this was a memento.
She took a breath and slowly began to dress. The chain mail felt heavy and bulky. It annoyed her as much as the metal pieces of the armor. The armlets, chest piece, leg pieces, so much metal. It rustled too much as she moved and was still too heavy despite being lighter than expected. She knew her range of motion would be limited. It aggravated her, but for the sake of appearances, she’d wear it. Most of the Captain’s company did not know who or what she was. There had not been enough time to explain it all to them. The Captain promised to explain the first chance he got and once that happened, she would be free from this armor. She spotted Mary laying her weapons out and then turn to fold her assassin outfit to pack. Serena smiled.
She hooked on her weapons. Her belt of throwing knives hung tight on her waist as the sword sat on her left hip. Her fingers secured them tightly before turning to stare at her image in the mirror. A small gasp escaped her as she stared at her reflection. Her first thought was she looked like a Templarian. For a moment she felt like the enemy. She felt her heart race as the image of herself in the Templarian crest made her feel like she betrayed everything. Including herself. She took a calming breath, trying to control herself. It was temporary. It didn’t matter what she wore. She was the Death Sparrow, regardless of any outfit. She could think of it as a disguise. A costume to be used and discarded. That felt better, and she opened her eyes again. She looked again and saw herself playing pretend. She gently touched her throwing knives, feeling their comfort.
“Let me get your hair,” Mary said, moving to fix her hair. Her soothing fingers in her hair, braiding it and tying it up into a bun felt motherly. Another reminder that she would miss the people she was leaving behind. Mary finished and smiled.
“You look ready for war.” Serena turned, opening her mouth to say goodbye, but Mary glared at her. “I don’t do goodbyes. I don’t believe in them. I will see you when you get back.”
Serena smiled at that.
“Thank you, Mary.” Mary nodded her head.
“Now go eat. You got a long day of riding ahead. Don’t waste time getting all upset. You’ll be back and I’ll be waiting.”
Serena turned and grabbed her bag, heading for the kitchen. It felt strange to have someone who would be waiting for her return. No, someone who wanted her to return. She ignored the uncomfortable feeling of sadness as she moved to sit at the table. Helen was smiling, but her eyes were gloomy.
“I fear my wife might just go crazy without you,” Henry said, breaking the silence. “It’s been a pleasure having you here.”
She looked up at Henry, almost surprised he was home. He spent so much time helping the Captain that she hardly saw him. However, he stood dressed in a bright blue tunic with black breeches, looking like the perfect Templarian noble.
“I will miss her greatly!” Helen said. “We’re like sisters now and war is so dangerous.” Helen took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “But I trust you, Serena. We’ll see each other again soon.”
There was a knock on the door and Henry got up to open it.
In the doorway was James. He held a helmet in hand and greeted everyone warmly.
“It’s time,” he said, offering the helmet. Helen rushed to hug Serena again. Serena hugged her back just as tightly, trying to memorize the feel of this hug. She was aware she may never get another.
“Be careful,” she said before relenting. Serena smiled.
“I always am,” She took the helmet from James and slid it on. Her identity was now hidden and the anonymity it offered felt powerful. She walked confidently next to James towards the gates where the battalion waited. Three hundred men were ready to march and stood in line, waiting.
She spotted Vilkrim and smiled. Her horse tossed his head at her as if in greeting. She excitedly took his reins and patted his neck.
“You ready to get back to work?”
She threw on her saddlebag and looked around at the soldiers. They were all dressed in identical armor, making it seem like an endless sea. She counted about fifty cavalrymen. Not even a full company. It annoyed her how small their numbers were. Not enough to be called an army. James moved towards the front of the lines and spoke with the Captain. Her heart fluttered for a moment. A beam of sun illuminated his golden-brown hair, and his eyes seemed to shine in the light. He looked strong and in control. A leader in control who earned the respect of his soldiers. She respected that. She shook her head and cursed her heart. Now was not the time to focus on such things. She mounted Vilkrim in one great stride.
Once on top, she could see even more. Ike and Raft rode in the cavalrymen. Raft waved enthusiastically at her and she gave a small wave back. Ike slapped his hand aside.
As she surveyed more, she noticed it seemed everyone was here. Everyone except for the Prince. She felt her stomach twist in a knot. What had the King done? She turned back to the castle and noticed the Prince. He walked out from the doors, favoring his left side. She grimaced watching as he did his best to hide it and smiled, greeting the soldiers as he made his way to the front. She rode towards him, watching as his breaths hitched.
“I must say you look the part,”
“You look like you got a terrible parting gift,” His face dropped, a frown replacing his smile.
“I’m fine,”
“We’ll be riding for hours. Falling from the saddle can be-”
“I am fine!” he snapped back, a warning in his eyes. Vilkrim stepped nervously, sensing her apprehension. She never heard him snap before. Daryl seemed to notice her unease and tried to smile.
“I’m sorry. I know you mean well, but you’ve only been at the castle a short while. There is a lot you have not seen.” He said. “For now, just focus on blending in. We’ll talk more soon.” He walked off towards the front, continuing to greet soldiers along the way. He met the Captain who watched her. She could feel his eyes taking in every piece of her in armor. She let a hand move to her knives, letting them comfort her again. It was becoming a nervous tick.
Daryl took his place at the front and then the Captain gave the orders to march. They began at a slow pace, marching through the walls of the castle. She looked over and spotted Raft’s father waving happily at the men. Raft noticed him and waved back. His smile was so large she could see it despite the helmet. A young woman with blonde hair ran up to his horse. Ike and Raft exchanged words with the woman. Karla. Serena realized. His fiancé. Raft removed his helmet and quickly bent down to kiss her. The crowd cheered at the display. A brave soldier off to war to protect his fiancé left behind. Such a sad fable.
Serena felt at odds with the whole thing. War was not happy. They shouldn’t be needed to go to war. There shouldn’t even be a war, but the reality was there was. The expense to protect Acreage would be paid in blood. She focused forwards as they rode through Meta and out into the open land.
With each step, Serena took from the castle the more she did her best to close herself off into the job. She was here to get intel and kill Samorians. She’d have to send another letter to Gwayne the first chance she got. She had to focus on that. Not her feelings for the Captain or Daryl or any of the others she had grown to know. From now on, she was an assassin first. It was the only way to survive what was to come.
The deafening sound of marching feet rang in Serena’s ears for hours. It was slow and mindless as they led troops forwards to battle. The Captain and Daryl sat at the foremost front while James rode next to her. It felt like he was babysitting her.
“What do you think?”
She looked at him, unsure of why or what he was asking.
“It’s slow,”
“Isn’t patience needed for an assassin?” he inserted a condescending tone to his voice.
“What do you want?” She returned, having no patience
for his games. He grinned.
“Well, I’m curious. You’re the top assassin in all of Acreage, and I feel like I’m traveling with a house cat instead of a beast.”
“Are you offering yourself up to be my training dummy?” she returned, a dark gleam in her eyes.
“Hardly. I’m just surprised is all. How long can you hold in all that anger and rage? You hate the Templarians and yet the Captain’s tamed you.”
“I am hardly the Captain’s pet,”
He smirked. Serena grew wary, unsure of his purpose.
“Perhaps it’s the other way around. You have him wrapped around your little dagger. He’s going to get hurt because of you.” She felt trepidation at the thought of the Captain getting hurt but shoved it down. Feelings meant death. She looked him over again. He unsettled her before, but she never grasped who he was.
“Where are you from?”
“I was born in Acreage. My father was a Templarian oppressor who took my mother as his prize when they won Acreage. She was a child. The General took me under his wing. I’m practically Wesley’s brother.”
She stared at him, unsure of how to feel. Her trauma felt to overpower her existence, so she wasn’t sure she could handle a new reality where even those she disliked suffered the same.
“Did you really think you are the only one with a horrible tale of Templarian oppression?”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to do what you came here for. Don’t try to lie and say you’re just here to stop the Samorians. You’re not. You’re here to learn about the King and kill him.” He drew his horse closer, leaving barely enough space between the horses for their legs. Her heart raced at his accusation, but her face stayed calm.
“And if what you say is true, why would I admit it to you?” He grinned.
“You wouldn’t but if something happened to the King, there would be a mighty reward for a fellow Acrean.” He said before riding away from her. He moved closer to the front, leaving her in the center of the group as she pondered his words.
The Death Sparrow's Shadow: The Assassin of Acreage Book One Page 16