by Travis Kerr
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear about his heart attack until long after his funeral. There was nothing I could do then. I would have come before now, but, well, honestly, I didn’t really know what to say to you. I thought you might have wanted me to take his place, and that was something I couldn’t do. Now that you know who I am, I’m sure you understand why.”
“You still should have come,” she repeated stubbornly. “We really needed you. I needed you. I still do, for that matter.”
“I can’t take his place as guild leader,” Raiste repeated. “I have Bloodheart and who knows how many other mages breathing down my neck. I’d be putting the guild and everyone under this roof in danger if I stayed here.”
“I have no intention of making you guild leader,” she told him. “I would have thought about it a year ago, but you weren’t here and someone had to take father’s place. I had no other choice but to do it myself. Father wanted me to anyway. He said so in his final will. It surprised me that he didn’t choose you to take that job. As you said, now that I know who you really are, I can understand his reasons why.”
“From what I’ve been hearing, you’re doing a rather good job of it,” he pointed out.
“That’s not the point. You should have been here. Maybe you could have done something.”
“I loved your father, you know that. It surprised me when I heard that he had died, but not even I could have done anything about a heart attack. No one could have expected it, and no one could have done anything about it. As for you needing me, well, that’s not possible right now either. I don’t know what Bloodheart might send after me, and I don’t know how many of the other mages are involved.”
“From what I’ve been hearing, that’s probably all of them. I don’t know if they are involved yet mind you, not even my spies are that good, but I can say that quite a few of the mages from the council have been gearing up for something. They’ve been mobilizing troops, buying up weapons and armor, and setting up supply routes all across the board.”
“What!” He almost leaped to his feet before catching himself. “When did this start?”
“Almost three months ago,” she answered. “At least that’s when my spies started taking notice of it. They’re moving slowly to hide their actions, but they can’t hide everything.”
“That’s impossible! They couldn’t have known about me until a month ago, and I didn’t even know about the existence of the battle mage before then! He didn’t even know about himself! How could they have been mobilizing before they knew!?”
“Then maybe they have other reasons. One thing’s for certain though, the mages are getting ready for a war, and have been doing so for a while now. If it’s not because of you, then it must be something else. I’ll have my spies keep an ear to the ground. I’ll let you know as soon as we have something. You’ll have to wait until then.”
“I told you Loretta, I can’t stay. I wish I could. If I stayed here Bloodheart would find this place eventually. I know how much you want me to stay with you, but I can’t put you in danger like that. It was the reason that I left.”
The blond woman stood up and walked over to him, closing the distance between them with one quick step. So quickly even Raiste couldn’t follow, she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. The dragonling raised its head immediately, glaring at her angrily.
She raised her hand a second time, as if to hit him again, and the small creature hissed in warning, the fiery crest on his back coming up in a clear, undisguised threat display. She seemed to think better of it then, instead sitting down on the arm of the chair he was sitting on. Raiste doubted that it had been Trick that had dissuaded her. After a moment the small animal decided that his friend wasn’t in danger after all, and settled back down to the curled position he had taken before.
“That’s not what this is about,” she said, choking back on her anger. “I am my father’s daughter Raiste, and a master assassin in my own right. I’m not some inexperienced little girl, pining over a lost love. When you left I was barely eighteen, little more than a child. Now I’m a woman, and I know exactly who I am. You would do well to remember that.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “You’re absolutely right. Whatever reasons you have for wanting me to stay don’t change things though. I won’t be able to stay. Staying here would bring Bloodheart right to your door. I won’t risk that. I have too much respect for your father, and care too much about you, to ever do that. I only came now because I needed information. I’ll have to be getting back soon. I have the battle mage hidden away right now, but he won’t stay hidden for long. I have to get back to him soon.”
“Father didn’t die of a heart attack,” she said suddenly, her voice choked with emotion.
“What do you mean? It was an assassin from your guild that told me he had died. He told me it was a heart attack. Why would he have lied to me? If it wasn’t a heart attack, how did your father die?”
“He was murdered,” she answered, her tiny voice wavering.
She was normally a strong woman, powerful both in mind and in body. Even when he had left, when she was only just coming into adulthood, she had held the commanding presence and bearing of her father. Now, however, Raiste was reminded just how small she really was. Only once before had she ever seemed so tiny to him as she did now. The day he left.
Even after fifteen years, little changes.
“It was reported as a heart attack because it was made to look like one,” she continued. “Even when I first heard it, I couldn’t believe it. You remember how he was. He was strong as an ox. There was nothing at all wrong with his heart.”
“Sometimes it seems that way, but we both know that’s not always the case. He could have been sick for years without us knowing. He wouldn’t have told us. That was just his way.”
“I know. However I also know that sometimes things get overlooked, especially if the doctor doing the report is tired and overworked. So I decided to look into it myself. Everything seemed normal, until I looked in his mouth. His tongue was completely black.”
Raiste immediately understood what she meant. There was a poison that induced all the symptoms of a heart attack, including death, that most examiners wouldn’t find. He had used it on a few occasions himself.
It wasn’t the examiners fault, he knew. Generally they would check the body on the same day the person died. It wouldn’t be until three or four days after death that the telltale signs would appear. First the tongue would turn black, soon followed by the skin underneath the fingernails and toenails. Most bodies were either buried or burned before then, but Martin would have been entombed in his family’s vault. Loretta could still have examined him there.
“How could he have been poisoned? He was always so careful. When I left here he rarely left the guild halls. What could have changed that would have taken him into danger?”
“That’s just it, nothing had changed. Nothing at all. He was more cautious after you left then he was while you were here. He almost never left. He had to have been killed here, in the guild!”
“Why would anyone have done that?” No one had anything to gain by killing him. He was surrounded by friends while he was in this hall. Everyone loved him.”
“I have no idea. I’ve been trying to answer that very same question since I first discovered that he hadn’t died of natural causes. He had enemies, certainly; you can’t become the leader of an assassin's guild without acquiring at least a few of them. But inside these halls there shouldn’t have been anyone who would dare to do him harm.”
“So that would be why you have those bodyguards, just in case whoever killed your father tries to go after you too.”
“They are mostly for show, actually. You know me well enough to know that those men wouldn’t be able to do anything against someone that I couldn’t handle myself. I’m hoping that whoever killed my father sees them as a sign of weakness in me. So far no one has tried to take the bait, unfortunately. It�
��s far more likely that whoever it was wasn’t here to kill my father, but was simply a spy, and that he was afraid that my father found out about him. Keep in mind, he wasn’t killed by an assassin's dagger, he was killed by poison. That’s something that would have been much more difficult to accomplish with someone as cautious as my father was.”
Raiste couldn’t disagree with any part of that. She was good, better than he was actually. As skilled as they both were though, neither of them could hold a candle to Martin. Raiste had always wondered why someone as skilled as his former teacher was always so careful, as if everyone was likely to try to kill him at any moment.
“Could he really have suspected someone in the guild?”
“I’m sure of it. It had to have been someone close to him too, someone who could have slipped the poison into his cup without anyone, including my father, ever knowing about it.”
“Any idea who it could have been?”
“I don’t know of anyone who he trusted enough to get that close to him. Besides the two of us, the number of people he trusted that much could be counted on one hand, and I was the only one anywhere near this city at the time. Perhaps the killer slipped it into a bottle of wine or a bit of food. I’ve never found anything, but it’s the only possible way I could think of. Even that would have been difficult. My father never left anything to chance.
“Listen Raiste, at least stay for a little while. Surely you’ll be safe for a month or two, long enough for you to be able to travel with more safety than you can now. While you’re here maybe you can keep an extra eye open for me. You’re the one person that I know I can trust Raiste, and trust is in short supply right now.”
“Perhaps I can stay for a little while,” he ventured. “It won’t be for very long though. I still have friends waiting for me.”
“Ah yes, I remember. You said the battle mage was waiting for your return somewhere. I could have word sent to him....”
“No,” he said at once. “No offense, but I wouldn’t trust anyone with that secret. Besides, right now we don’t know who in the guild we can really trust. I can’t risk the wrong person finding out where I have him hidden.”
“You’re right, of course. I should have thought of that.”
“You would have thought of it before you sent anyone,” he answered confidently, certain that she would have. Her father chose well when he made her the leader. She wasn’t the type of person to do anything without thinking it through first.
“So, since you’re going to stay for at least a little while longer, we might as well enjoy ourselves.” She edged herself a little closer to him from the edge of the chair where she sat. This close, her tiny form gave off a heady smell.
Whatever perfume she’s using is strong, he thought. I think I like it.
“I remember how I threw myself at you the last time you were here, before you left. You turned me down then.”
“Yes, but I knew I was going to be leaving soon. You were still a young girl. I didn’t want you to do something then that you were going to regret later on. I cared too much for you to risk that.”
“Well, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m a grown woman.”
That said, Loretta bent down over him, pushing her lips strongly into his. It took him by surprise. There was so much power in that little form of hers. He recovered quickly, however, and returned her kiss with a passion that, he hoped, came close to matching hers. Trick, not wanting anything to do with what was going on, flew over to land on the chair behind the desk, as far from the two as the little room would allow.
She pulled him off of the chair, practically dragging him across the room before throwing down onto the longer couch. She landed on top of him, pinning him there. For a split second he considered what he was doing. He was going to have to leave again soon, he knew.
Yes, but she’s certainly not a little girl anymore. She’s a grown woman. Unlike before, she knows exactly what she’s doing.
Chapter Seventeen
The next two months passed in a complete state of absolute bliss for Drom. They had agreed that what had happened had been nothing more than two friends enjoying each others company, he remembered that clearly, and yet it quickly became obvious to him that what was going on between him and Raine was something much more than that.
For one thing, they no longer slept in separate rooms, nor had they since that first night. They still kept their things in their own rooms, granted, but each night, without fail, Raine either joined Drom in his bed, or asked him to join her in hers.
For his part, Drom had never slept more comfortably in his life. He had worried at first, when it became obvious that Raine planned on spending more nights in his bed, that he might find it difficult to sleep with her next to him. He had slept alone all his life, and would not be used to such presence.
Much to his surprise, the exact opposite seemed to be true. The warmth of her body next to him, usually curled up tightly in his arms, felt more natural than sleeping alone ever had. Even the little noises she made while she slept, more of a purring sound than a snore, helped to relax him into slumber each night.
Little changed, however, during their days. Each day they would spend a small amount of time practicing, more time together fishing, and then relax in the living room in front of the fireplace each night. It was an easy, carefree time.
Raine did add one additional piece to their daily routine, one which Drom agreed to quickly. Every day after they finished their workout, they spent a small amount of time slowly cleaning the massive building they had made their home. One day they would dust the walls, another the floors, methodically cleaning each room, one at a time.
Drom was surprised at the true scale of the Hut. After they had finished the first fifteen rooms, he stopped counting. It wasn’t as if most of the work was difficult. It was more dust than anything else really, just as it had been in his room the first night he had arrived.
When they came across the room where the roof had caved in, crushed under a thick tree, Raine bypassed it, explaining that for the moment it would be a better use of their time to finish the other rooms first before returning to that one. As long as they kept the thick door closed, it shouldn’t make the rest of the building too cold, she assured him. He hadn’t been worried, the rooms and halls were warm enough on the coldest of days, but he refrained from telling her so.
He wondered at her sudden desire to clean the huge home, especially considering that it was obvious to him early on that no one had done so in generations. Raiste and Raine had only cleaned out the few rooms that they had used, but that had left dozens of rooms untouched. Now, she seemed intent on cleaning every room in the entire place. It was strange, Drom thought, considering it was still only the two of them.
What would Raiste think about it when he got back, he wondered?
The unknown fate of their friend was, in fact, the only real worry that he had felt during all that time. They had expected Raiste to return after only a month, perhaps a month and a half at most. Now nearly three months had passed, and still he had yet to arrive.
Raine insisted that everything was fine, but Drom had trouble believing that. He could sense that the woman was as worried as he was, but didn’t want him to be concerned. He didn’t think that anything was likely to have happened to the resourceful assassin, he was far too skilled for that, and surely he wouldn’t have made another mistake like the one he had made in Port Tam.
What could be detaining him?
That was not the only worry that Drom had about his friend either. He had no idea what Raiste might think about what was going on between him and Raine, especially since Drom wasn’t completely certain himself what they had between them. He didn’t think that the assassin would really have a problem with it, but he didn’t really know him all that well either.
As much as he wanted to ask Raine what her thoughts about things might be, he didn’t want to risk loosing whatever it was that they had. Asking unnecessary questions
had only gotten him into trouble in the past, and he hoped he could say he had learned from his mistakes. Eventually, when Raiste finally returned, he would learn his answer one way or another. Until then, it would probably just be best to leave well enough alone. Still, the question continued to nag at him. Finally he could take the waiting no longer.
“What do you think we should say to Raiste when he gets back?” he asked Raine one evening while they were cooking dinner. She was cutting vegetables for his stew at the time, as she often did for him. Her meals only required a quick seasoning and a place over the fire after all, while his generally required a bit more effort.
“I’m going to ask him where the hell he’s been over the past two months, first of all,” she answered with a toothy grin. “He was supposed to be back two months ago. He should know better than to keep us waiting like this. He better have a good reason for it.”
“I’m sure he does,” he returned, hoping to reassure her. “That wasn’t really what I was talking about. I meant, what should we tell him about us? I’m sure he’ll notice that we’ve been sleeping in the same bed. Things aren’t really the same between us as they were when he left. Don’t you think he’ll want an explanation or something?”
“I don’t think it would be any of his business,” she stated bluntly. “Him and I are nothing more than friends. We’ve never been anything more than friends, and regardless of what you might think we would never have been anything more than friends. It’s not any of his business what I do or who I do it with. It’s not any of his business who you spend time with either. There’s not any reason for you to get defensive or jealous.”
“I wasn’t thinking that,” he said quickly. Things had been going very good with Raine, and the last thing he wanted to do was to make her upset. She could hold a grudge for quite a while if she wanted to, he recalled. “I know that there was never anything between you two. Besides, I’m not really the type of person to get jealous anyway. You know that.”