The Death Sparrow's Shadow: The Assassin of Acreage Book One

by R. L. McIntyre

  “The fuck are you asking me for Spiritless?” He walked past. Serena let out a deep sigh as Wesley’s face dropped.

  “He’ll play nice. He’s just angry.”

  “My patience only goes so far. Are you sure about this? Having one assassin around grated my nerves, two… I may never sleep again.” He returned playfully, offering to grab a bag from her. She ignored his hand and followed Sam.

  “I’m glad you’re well,” he said softly, catching up to her.

  “I’d be happy if your arm didn’t still need bandages,” He sighed.

  They reached the town center and Daryl led them inside to a study where they placed the bags of explosives.

  “So, what are your plans?” said Sam.

  “Why is he here?” James looked up from his cup of coffee, eyeing Sam.

  “Oooh, coffee” Sam grinned, rushing to collect his own cup. He took a nice long sip as James glared at him.

  “One assassin was plenty.”

  “Who’s the angry Spiritless punk?”

  “Stop!” Serena warned, her eyes threatening. Sam snorted and sat down, taking another sip.

  “Your pet?”

  “Shut up, James.”

  “Well, this will be pleasant,” Daryl said. “So, we came up with a plan. Stopping an invasion force of this size with the men we have is slim. However, if we can cause enough problems, the Samorians might initiate a parlay.”

  “And what do we offer to stop them?” Serena said.

  “There’s an old custom in Templaria,” Wesley began. “When a King or Queen has put Templaria in danger, the nobles can enact a trail of welfare where the ruler is tried for crimes against our homeland. It’s rare, but it has happened a few times before.”

  “And how do you enact such a thing while the King would kill any for such a plot?” she returned skeptically.

  “We need nine votes from the nobles with proof. Trust me there’s plenty of proof and once the trial is enacted, it becomes politics. There’s an heir and we can promise the King’s head. This way Daryl gets the crown without having to dethrone his own father.” Wesley finished.

  Serena looked at Daryl, who stood silent.

  “Are you okay with this?” He looked over to her and gave a timid smile.

  “I don’t think I’m ready to rule, but I’ll be better than my father. Of that I’m certain, and neither Acreage nor Templaria will survive the Samorians. We’re not prepared for such an invasion. My father lived his life like a tyrant. It’s fitting he’s dethroned by his people.” He said with conviction. Looking at him, she could see him as the young king that these two lands prospered under. He recognized his naivety which could be fixed with the right counsel and with the King gone and Samoria stopped… she didn’t know what came after for her, but this was what she wanted. Even if she wasn’t the one to kill the King herself, having a part in his downfall excited her.

  She nodded.

  “Why do you all need to go through with a trial? Just kill the King. It’ll be a lot faster.” Sam said.

  “And Serena will be wanted for the rest of her life. People might not like the King, but they respect the throne. Killing a King is a death sentence regardless of the reason. Not to mention if people heard it involved Daryl, they’d dethrone him for going against the ancestors.” Wesley said.

  "Ancestors? You believe in ghosts but not Gods.” Sam muttered.

  "Let’s refocus. We need to make sure their landing is as terrible as possible. We can place a few bombs on the cliffs overhanging and let them explode onto the men. I have plenty of smoke bombs and if the wind is on our side, it will limit their visibility. Plus, Sam and I can easily take out a few leaders.” She grinned. Sam sat up with the plan, a matching grin on his face.

  “I can guarantee they’ll scream,” Sam inserted.

  “It could work,” Wesley said. Sam stood and walked over to the map, preparing to add his input as the group fleshed out their plans. Serena grabbed her first cup of coffee, enjoying the nutty flavor of the north. She grinned into the cup before noticing a mistake in the plan written before them. Reaching forwards for the quill her hand gently brushed against Wesley’s igniting a fire that danced on her skin. She ignored it, finding her words but feeling the eyes of Wesley on her. Sam stepped on her foot and she turned, glaring at him.

  “Focus little bird,” he whispered. She kicked him in the shin and returned to the general discussion. A few pots of coffee later and the plan was as close to perfect as possible. The sun disappeared over the horizon hours ago and Serena felt her body tired from all the excitement.

  “Let’s retire for the night. I’ll show Sam the room he can use. Wesley, you can show Serena’s. We put all the stuff you left in there.” Daryl said, gesturing to Sam to follow. Sam raised his eyebrows at Serena before following.

  Serena trailed Wesley thru the halls to a room. Inside she saw her bags and her missing throwing knives cleaned and laid out on a table. She walked closer and inspected them.

  “I hope I did them justice,” he said. They glistened well without a trace of blood or rust.

  “Passable,” she returned, sliding them in place.

  “I… I’m so glad you’re okay.” He breathed out as if he had been holding his breath.

  “I’m hard to kill and Sam wouldn’t try to kill me. There’s too much history between us.”

  “Yes,” he said almost solemnly.

  “What is it?”

  “May I just hold you?” he shifted his weight. “It would ease my nerves to know this isn’t a dream that you’re back. I mean, you had the chance to run away anywhere with Sam. You didn’t have to return, especially if he isn’t the traitor you thought.”

  “My job here is not done,” she said, ignoring his question. He walked closer hopeful.

  “Sam-”

  “Is my past,” she cut in. “I’m sure you have your own.”

  His hand gently sat on her arm, pulling her closer. She let him, the heat of his hand overwhelming her. Her eyes closed as his warm embrace held her steady. She breathed in his scent- coffee and myrrh. Strange how it settled her as she leaned into him. The fear she previously felt seemed to drift away.

  Their breaths aligned, swaying them in unison as they stood suspended in time. She allowed herself a moment of weakness and buried her head into his chest. His heart racing in her ear told her all she needed to know.

  “Wesley-” She looked up at him and he crashed his lips down into hers. Her heart skipped a beat as the warmth she felt grew hotter. She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His arms surrounded her waist and together their bodies pressed against one another’s. She kissed him harder, their tongues intermingled as they tried to get closer still. The surrounding heat grew into a frenzy, warning of a lust underneath the passion.

  Wesley led her towards the bed, tugging at her shirt. He pushed her back towards the bed and she grinned, reaching up and snatching his shirt. She pulled him closer until he stumbled, his body pressed above her. Again their lips locked, but a knock stopped them. They both looked towards the door.

  “Captain, are you…” the door opened to reveal James.

  “I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Wesley got up and straightened his clothes.

  “Yes,” Serena growled. Wesley smirked but leaned forwards and kissed her forehead instead.

  “No. I’m about to retire for the evening. Serena should as well.”

  “Whatever the problem, I’m sure it can wait till morning.” She returned. Wesley smirked and walked away from her, taking his heat with her. Serena let out a sigh and glared at James.

  “Come on, James. We can discuss this as I go to my room. After that, we should all get some rest.” He said walking off with one last longing look back. His eyes softened as they traced her body before finally looking away. Alone Serena got to her feet and locked the door, her heart still raced. She touched her lips, remembering his searing touch. There was no hiding this now. Wes
ley stole her heart.

  She collapsed on her bed, finding sleep easily.

  A cool wind woke her, and she rose, noticing the feel of grass cradling her. She sat up with a start, her eyes darting around. Trees surrounded her, while in the clearing ahead a small waterfall crashed into a small lake. A young woman with silver hair sat on the rocks, her fingers dancing in the water as a Winged One laid curled in her lap.

  “Hello child,” she said, her voice melodic and powerful. She turned to look at Serena, the light of the moon shimmering off her as if she was part of the moon itself.

  Serena stared, her heart racing. She opened her mouth to speak, but the woman held up her hand.

  “Don’t waste our time on silly questions. I’ll tell you all you need to know. My pets warn that you are an accomplished warrior.” She said stroking the creature in her lap. It seemed to curl up like a cat under her fingers. “I’m not interested in that. I’m interested in a book you have in your possession. A book that belonged to my disciple.”

  “The book of legends,” Serena said.

  “Yes,” she said, looking up at Serena meeting her gaze. The woman’s eyes glowed silver, pulsating with power. “That book belonged to my Champion. It holds knowledge that cannot fall into the hands of my brother.”

  “The creature that attacked me-”

  “Do not interrupt.” She warned. “My brother chose freedom over exile when our mother punished us. It meant he lost his appearance. Now his outside matches his insides while I remain untouched by time but confined to the forest. The Midnight Prince will continue to try for the book as long as you have it. Holding onto it will do no good. So, I offer you a proposition. Seeing as how I am a Goddess, I offer this. Destroy my book before it falls into the hands of my brother and I will grant you one wish. With the coming battle, I am sure having a miracle to use will be a saving grace. If the book is not destroyed and falls into my brother’s hands, the deal is off.”

  Serena looked at the Goddess surveying the area.

  “This is a dream,” she said. The Goddess rose and walked closer to her. Serena stepped back, but the woman grabbed her arm, holding her still. It felt like ice.

  “You know well dreams can be very real when magic is involved. I am being kind enough to offer you this deal out of respect for Goddess Altara.”

  “What does she have-”

  “You have her ear! Do not play dumb. We all hear you praying to her. Praying for the enemy, even. Crying over their rotten blood.” She growled, her hand gripping tighter. “Burn my book and you’ll have your prize. Don’t and face the consequences. My brother is not the only God to fear and I guarantee I’m worse.” She snarled, her face cast into shadows. The ominous danger pulled at Serena’s adrenaline as the need to fight started. She yanked her arm free.

  “I will heed your warning, Goddess. When the time is right, I shall burn the book.” Serena returned. The Goddess snorted.

  “Don’t forget my pets are always watching.” She said as one flew to her shoulder. Then the ground fell out around her, drifting her into a silent slumber.

  ◆◆◆

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A horn blared, waking Serena with a start. Her eyes fell onto the book, remembering her dream with a Goddess. Uncertainty filled her. It could be a trick. If it wasn’t, then she only had one wish. Best to save it for when there was no other option left. She hid it under her mattress and rushed to dress as adrenaline seeped into her veins. Flipping up her hood, she rushed to the study to grab two bags of bombs. With them slung over her shoulders, she rushed up the steps to the walls of Bathon.

  In the distance, she saw the lines of Samorian ships.

  Their large masts rose into the sky decorated with their red flag adorning an outlined chimera in black.

  “They’re early,” she grumbled as others joined her. Sam appeared next to her, his presence felt in the familiarity of his scent. Pine trees and musk.

  “They must’ve had good wind,” Sam interjected, placing a leg on a turret as he leaned forwards. The rising sunlight illuminated all the rich tones of his hair as he looked outwards.

  “We need to place the bombs. Come on Sam.” She said her mind planning the placement as she turned to leave.

  Wesley grabbed her arm. His stern eyes stopped her.

  “It’ll be hours before they’re on the beach. Get your men ready.” She said. Their eyes met, and she felt that closeness to him again.

  “Be careful. We don’t know what weapons they bring. What magic they’ll use.”

  “I’m always careful,”

  She abruptly pulled away and headed down the stairs. Sam matched her as they rushed to pack their bombs and got on horses. The feel of Vilkrim beneath her calmed her nerves. She knew he was trained well enough for the tasks at hand.

  “Just like old times,” Sam smirked.

  “We’ve never tried to fight an army before,”

  “You sure that job at the Irow Manor was not an army?” He pulled at fond memories of the victories they had together. She remembered the power, the connection, and the win of that night. It was the night he told her he loved her for the first time. Looking at him, she could see that boy underneath the young man that now rode next to her, but she still saw no future beyond the day. There was never more than the present.

  Focusing, they charged out towards the beach. The grass surrounding the walls transitioned to sand. Near the transition, cliff faces rose to create walls with a single opening to the ocean. The opening was several hundred yards long. Enough to see the beach beyond and allow an army to land. The biggest disadvantage for the Samorians was that the beach tapered downwards towards the sea level. This meant an army had to climb the incline to reach level land again.

  Serena focused on the cliffs. They inclined upwards a bit, their edges rocky and uneven. She followed the path, Vilkrim easily traversing the terrain. Sam mirrored her on the other side of the cliffs. From this new vantage point, Serena felt suspended in time. To the east were the ships of Samoria, unloading their troops onto land. To the west laid the city of Bathon, protected by Templarians. She stood in the middle.

  A cool wind blew through her hair as she watched the lines after lines of Samorians emerge.

  “The plan better work,” she grumbled as she pulled out a set of bombs and laid them out, tying longer fuses to allow more time to get away. She nestled them into crevices, hoping they would break the massive rocks and cause a rockslide. The smaller they could make the opening, the better.

  She peered over on the other side to Sam. He nodded his head. She grabbed the flint and stone, striking them to get a spark. The fuse caught, and she swung on Vilkrim’s back, turning away.

  They raced back onto the sand and away from the cliffs meeting up.

  “The show is about to begin!” Sam grinned. Serena matched his grin. The ground rumbled as they heard the cliffs explode. Rocks fell and collected around the opening, slowly closing it in. People yelled in the distance as the pair grabbed a smoke bomb, each setting the fuse and tossing it behind them at the rubble before they charged forwards.

  Fifty yards from the opening they felt satisfied with the distance. They jumped from the horses and dug into the sand, wiggling the smoke bombs in place. They propped up the fuses and hastened to the next spot.

  Tension rose with every second, beckoning them faster. Their eyes constantly scanned the horizon as the smoke cleared. Samorians began making their way through the rubble, their anger turned on the pair of assassins. A horn blared out as the pair looked at one another.

  “I’ll take the left,” Sam said, his voice like steel.

  “I’ll take the right.” Serena returned her voice just as calm. The pair set off several lines of fuses meant to stagger the onset of the smoke bombs.

  They stood still, sending their horses behind them to wait. Smoke built up around them as the wind blew it towards the enemy. The horn blared again as a loud roar of shifting sand graced their ears. With a simple
look of confirmation, the pair dove into the smoke.

  The smoke-filled their lungs as they separated. The black silence of shadows wrapped around them. She controlled each breath, listening to the noise that rose above the cloud. Her eyes sought light and caught the sheen of armor. She drove forwards and sliced her sword outwards, gauging where the neck was. Her blade caught resistance and then she felt the air shift as the body fell.

  She spun again, listening to the unique sounds. Coughing. The soldiers choked on the smoke. She breathed so easily. She neared more targets, their coughs like beacons in the dark. Her feet shifted on the sand, silently nearing as her blade struck out. Bodies dropped.

  More and more soldiers entered the smoke, tripping over the deceased with yells and curses. Still, in the sphere of the darkness, Sparrow used her smaller frame to her advantage. Some struck out blinding, swinging at air. She ducked under their attacks and revealed only her blade as it severed arteries. Then she was gone. Swallowed by the darkness. Sharp yells and screams rang out like the symphony of an assassin. It filled her ears, intoxicating her. Her pace quickened as she found more and more victims waiting for slaughter. Warm blood splattered her. It’s warmth quickly cooled and heated with the next addition. Her skin rose in goosebumps at the sensation, heightening her senses more. She continued in her deadly dance, hoping the symphony would never end.

  A sharp whistle to her right drew her attention. She shifted towards the center. The warmth of Viper’s presence overwhelmed her as he passed her. He didn’t need to touch her. She felt him like an extension of herself. Like the breaths in her lung moving inwards and outwards. He hovered to her right and her instincts knew why. They reached into their pouches and pulled out bombs.

  Viper struck a flint, illuminating him in an orange glow of shadows as he lit the fuses Sparrow held. The small light from the fuses illuminated their shadows enough that she could see his smile. Hers grew, matching his as they threw their bombs into the center of the shadows. A shiver ran up her back as the warmth ended and they drifted apart on opposite sides of the smoke.