City of Assassins

by Farah Cook

  I throw my body into the mantle and hide my face in the cowl. I follow Frederick into the long house where music and heavy thumping can be heard from the creak of the door. Standing just behind him, I see some of the faces from the assembly. They are red and blotchy. Others are old and tired, as if they’ve returned from years of battle.

  “Stay next to me,” says Frederick. He yanks his hood to cover his face as we walk into the dank hall. We do not go unnoticed. Curious eyes gaze at us. I instantly look away. In the middle of the room sits a long table. It has bread, cheese, and dry meat with pitchers of beer and wine. Big-chested women sit next to smaller and slender ones, and beefy, wide-shouldered men chortle loudly as if they have no worries.

  One man, with a patch on his eye, peers at me from the corner bench. He slams his fist hard into the table. He growls like a wild beast. I look away and pull Frederick’s arm. We find an empty table and sit down. The scent of jasmine reaches my nostrils. I turn as Grethe approaches our table. Her golden hawk eyes never stray from mine.

  “Didn’t expect to see you both here,” says Grethe with a hint of amusement. Her cheeks are rosy, and she wears a different dress. Black silk hugged tightly to her small frame, snaked up to cover her long swanlike neck.

  “We thought we’d join you to learn about some ancient Viking customs,” says Frederick. “It’s so different here. Don’t you agree, Nora?”

  I glare at him and nod.

  Grethe sneers. “The Ashes wasn’t convenient enough to learn about Vikings?”

  “It was very convenient. But I am not here to learn about the Vikings. I know everything about them. I am here to learn about your customs, weapons in particular.”

  “What is there to learn from a civilization like us?” Grethe says. “We’re considered primitive when compared to where you are from, are we not?”

  “Ancient secrets of the past, sister,” I intervene. “Why don’t you share them with us; we are no strangers to you. Not anymore.”

  “Secrets are only to be shared with those you trust. And I cannot say that for you two,” says Grethe and smiles. “Father warned me about you, Nora. He said you carry the beauty of the gods, their strength and their will. All which can be broken.”

  “Grethe, listen,” I whisper. “Before I came here, I knew nothing of your existence. I didn’t come here to cause trouble to your way of life. Both you and I know there’s no way I am leaving without getting access to Arres.” Frederick grabs my arm as I stand to get close to Grethe. I know he wants to tell me to take it easy, and I think I’ve done it again. I’ve made a foe of the one person I wanted to be my ally. Grethe’s smile fades, replaced with the murderous look of an assassin.

  “You’d better be prepared for battle tomorrow,” she says and before she walks off, she stares at me, eyes bleary as if veiled behind a fog. “And fight if you want what you really came here for.” She shifts her shoulders with pride. Her gait is that of a dangerous lion. Grethe has no intention of helping me; she has been waiting for this moment. I will make sure to make it worth her while.

  The music amplifies. Its sharp tones are coming from pan flutes, bagpipes, and a lyre. The man playing the flute steps forward. The flow of air pushes through the instrument. He taps his foot onto the floor. The crowd is clapping, cheering. I can taste the sweat in the air. It’s bitter and salty. Frederick pinches my arm, indicating we should make a move. But I don’t want to leave. I walk across the hall and take a seat in the corner of an empty table. He follows me sharply, and sits across from me. He stares at me wildly with his heavenly blue eyes from the shadow of his cowl.

  “What are you going to do?” I swallow the word, “you.” What happened to us?”

  “You can’t fight against your own sister. I mean, look at her.” He glances back. Grethe is watching us carefully.

  “What do you mean?” I feel the heat rising to my face. An incontrollable energy builds. I want to explode. “How do you suggest we get the weapons?”

  “I don’t know,” Frederick’s voice is condescending. “Killing one another in battle is not what I had in mind. It’s stupid and dangerous.” He reminds me of Robert.

  “It’s the only way,” I say.

  “What father wants his two daughters in a death match?” says Frederick.

  “The cowardly kind,” I say. “The kind that would leave his young daughter with her revenge sick mother to pursue a life of his own.”

  “Nora.” Frederick puts his hand onto mine. “I—”

  “Don’t.” I say.

  He sighs. He looks at me for a while before he says, “Think about your inner strength. Everyone here is afraid of you. Of us. We’re the intruders from the outside. You, me, Mina. Could we take them down?”

  “What do you have in mind?” I say.

  “Don’t go into battle tomorrow. Be brave and strong.”

  “I’m tired of always being the brave and strong, Frederick. Where will that lead us?”

  “Exactly where we want to be,” he answers. “In control.”

  “If I don’t fight her, she’s going to kill me. Is that what you want?”

  He shakes his head. His eyes don’t leave mine.

  “I would never let anyone hurt you.”

  “You can’t protect me, Frederick.”

  For a moment, Frederick reminds me of Helena. I miss her. What would she say if she was here? What would she do? Helena is a wise Orkeney. She always knows how to create an alliance. Why can’t I be like that? Why do I always have to piss people off until they want me dead?

  Suddenly people in the crowd point fingers at us. They are whispering. They know who we are. I motion for Frederick to make a move. We start to walk toward the doors leading out of the hall. The music is still pounding. Someone grabs hold of my arm. It’s Ulrik from the assembly this morning. Next to him is the man who stammered his words.

  “Why don’t you stay a little longer with your friend?” says Ulrik, and closes the door hard with the palm of his hand. He drums his fingers against the knife sitting in his belt. My heart flutters like a trapped bird in my chest. My throat feels tight, dry. We should never have set foot in here. What were we thinking?

  I stay quiet and wait for Frederick to say something. Why isn’t he saying anything? I look away and brush the sweat and hair from my face.

  “We really must be going,” I say and turn the handle, but his hand stays pressed against the door, slamming it shut as I open it. That’s when I realize the music has stopped, and we’re surrounded by a mob of tall men and women, with sweaty red faces and heavy breathing.

  There’s no reason pretending; they know who we are. I remove my hood and reveal my face for the spectators to get a clear view. I sense their need for answers in their hostile glares. If they could toss us beyond the tall walls of the city, they would. We are not welcome.

  “Come on,” says Frederick and takes my hand. He stands broadening his shoulders in front of Ulrik. He pushes his way forward. Ulrik budges a little. Swiftly, Frederick and I slip out, slinking through the dark night and scuttling across to main courtyard. He stops at the beginning of the dwindling road leading to the Ashes. He looks at the sky. The silver moonlight shines on his face. Frederick looks exhausted as if he’s going to faint at any minute.

  “I shouldn’t be leaving you behind, Nora. But it’s not a good idea to bring you with me to the Ashes either. Knud Forkbeard is a heavy old man who doesn’t say much. He just glares and breaks into people’s minds and steals their thoughts.”

  “At least we would be together in the Ashes,” I say, detecting the fading emotions from his face. Is this the face of my brother or or my lover, or my enemy? What difference does it make? Maybe we were not meant to be. All odds stand against us.

  “I can’t bring you with me. It might cause more trouble.” There’s certainty in Frederick’s voice. He’s not even trying to tell me how he feels; it’s obvious. The cold distance, the stern glance he throws at me, as if I was poison, slowly killin
g him. “I have to go now. You will be okay. You always are.”

  “Frederick?” I can’t believe it. He’s leaving me alone.

  He turns around, shifting his cloak in the silent night. He walks up the steep hill along a black trail among flowers. I stand behind long enough to see him turn into a tiny dot and disappear. I don’t want to think about why Frederick is behaving this way. It’s obvious that he thinks of me as his sister. It upsets me to see how effortlessly he’s accepted the lie Robert is spreading. I know Robert may have wanted a son, and that he’s traumatized about what happened to him. But telling me Frederick is my brother doesn’t change the past.

  When I turn to walk back to my room I see a shadow. It is Ulrik. He has followed me. I notice a knife in his hand and anger on his face. Before I have a chance to run away from him the hot, burning sting of his knife pierces through my shoulder. I slump to me knees, barely able to hold my own weight. My breath falls short. The sharp pain connects with my senses so unexpectedly and leads me into darkness.

  6

  The Battle

  WHEN I OPEN my eyes, bright light blinds my vision. I feel comfort in the softness underneath me. I am safe from the knife that stabbed me. But where am I? The light fades and when I take in my surroundings, I find myself in the presence of Robert, the Wizard, and Grethe—the three people that made it clear who I am and what they want me to do.

  The memory from last night hits me. Ulrik? I touch my shoulder where the wound is still fresh. He stabbed me. Why didn’t the tree protect me? Or give me a sign or a vision? She usually does. What is happening?

  “Ulrik poisoned the knife he stabbed you with. He put a spell on the cut. It will eventually heal, but it will just take longer for someone like you.” The Wizard stares at me.

  “Spell? What the—”

  “I broke the spell. The scar may remain forever.” The Wizard pauses. “What in the name of Odin were you doing out of your chamber last night? You must understand the danger you’ve put yourself in. You are not safe here. Good thing Ulrik only injured you—”

  “He didn’t injure me,” I croak weakly. “He tried to kill me. Don’t make it sound so innocent. The man is dangerous and wants me dead.”

  “Every man and woman in this city wants you dead, Nora,” says Robert. “You are an intruder. Under normal circumstances, you and your companions would get the death penalty for entering. Because you’re my—” he swallows hard. His Adam’s apple bobs as if sinking into his stomach.

  “Daughter?” I remind him. I shift my head and give him a hard stare. “I get it,” I say. “I am unwanted, in which case I will be on my way as soon as I get access to the City of Assassins. That counts for the sword, too, that was taken from me.”

  “You must get past the gatekeeper,” says the wizard and motions toward Grethe.

  “What if my brother, what if William felt the same way? He and I have a right to know where the weapons are.” There’s a deep, dark silence.

  The muscles in Grethe’s face shift like an evil black tide. She wants to say something. Her golden eyes hunt mine with a killer’s instinct. Her nose twitches. “Has he said—”

  “He wants what I want. That’s the reason he accompanied me on this journey.”

  “Frederick is still considered to be a Veran,” Robert says.

  “No, he’s not.” I outplay him. “If you’re right about what you said to me, Goth blood runs in his veins.”

  “To the world, he’s still a Veran.” he says darkly.

  “What difference does it make?” I say. “What matters is that he is heir to the legacy as much as I am. You may have chosen Grethe as gatekeeper, but that doesn’t give her any special powers over William and me.” I feel dirty using Frederick. But I need to be smarter than them.

  There’s a naked silence, as if someone stripped them bare. And I don’t know where my words suddenly come from, or how the idea entered my mind, but it’s the only rationale I can use against them to get to the weapons. Frederick would want to play along. He’d want to get the hell out of here.

  I can’t hide the glee in my eyes when the silence turns into insecurity and anxiety flashing across their worried faces. Did he see this coming? He seems to know so much, even the prediction to his own death. I will not give him the pleasure of dying, because he thinks his time is up, and leave me with the guilt. I’d be a fool if I wanted to kill my dad. And for what reason?

  He’s still my blood, and deep inside my heart, I feel love for him. If I could only fall into his arms and stay there and weep for all the dreams he had that were torn apart. All the time that separated us will never return. For that I feel broken and devastated. Does he not feel my longing, my pain?

  Does he want me gone, or is he protecting me? He guards his emotions against me. I think he knows that I will easily defeat Grethe. He’s seen the future, and he is afraid of what it holds—death. I will not give in. I would rather change the course of the future to allow him to live. I understand he cannot give me what I want: love, protection, comfort, and safety, at least not for much longer.

  Robert steps forward, his gaze soft and resting on mine. He lets out a heavy sigh. I have the wizard on check with one eye and Grethe with the other

  “The gatekeeper was chosen before my knowledge of you and William came about.”

  “You knew about me,” I say containing my anger. “You left me behind.”

  “In this world, what matters are the decisions we’ve made.”

  “Robert!” I say. “I am not going into battle to kill Grethe to amuse you and your people. There must be another way to get to the weapons. After all I have a right to them.” I get out of the bed and stand. I feel weak and vulnerable.

  “The law is the law,” says the wizard. “If we break the rules, every man in the city will start doing the same. It will lead to chaos and our doom. The people of this city want battle. Only then is justice served.”

  “They’re expecting it,” says Grethe. “Unlike life in the Triangle, our city is built on the foundation of transparency. We live and abide by the rules we’ve set. We are hostile toward intruders, as they know nothing about our customs. You will face battle. You are also the Earl’s daughter, and you brought enemies into our territory. Rumor has it there will be more—”

  “Enemy?” I say. “William is the Earl’s son.” I make the statement believable, and I hate myself for it. But I am convinced if I play my cards right and have Frederick appear as an ally or even my brother, things could work out favorably for us.

  “No one here knows that,” says Grethe in a low voice. “No one needs to know about all the Earl’s lost children.”

  “I was never lost. I was abandoned.”

  Robert’s eyes meet mine. He turns and drifts away as if abducted by guilt. “Enough of this,” he says. “Our rules cannot be changed.”

  “Rules were made to be broken, and you also broke them, didn’t you?” My voice is sharp like the assassin’s blade.

  “I did, and I’ve been suffering the consequences. Even if I wanted to, I could not have come back for you. I didn’t have a choice.”

  I laugh. “There’s always a choice, Father. You just chose to benefit yourself because you didn’t care about me or your wife.”

  “That’s not true. I care and at the time, I had to do what was necessary,” he says.

  I sense the disappointment that takes its toll on him, but I don’t feel guilty. This is my moment to tell him how I feel now that I’ve had time to digest everything he’s said to me. I am wiser and soon I’ll be seventeen. He has done nothing for me, except making it more difficult to get the weapons. He rules the city, and if he wanted, he could grant me access. What would all his loyal followers do? They want to kill me, and he doesn’t even care. Nora shall leave in peace. Why should I? I’m furious, hurt, and angry, and I want him to know.

  “Nora!” The wizard approaches me. “Bury your hatchets. Forget about the past. For what has been done cannot be undone.”<
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  My blood runs cold. He could as well have drawn a line across my throat. What about atonement? Everything else is madness. Just madness.

  “Well,” I say behind gritted teeth. “I’ll just have to kill to get what I want. After all I’m an assassin.” My heart pulsing faster than usual while Frederick’s words whisper in my ears. “There’s no glory without danger.” I stalk off, composing my trembling body still weak from the attempt on my life. I stop and turn around. I realize I want neither—neither glory nor danger.

  I’m facing Grethe, standing in the battleground surrounded by the people of the city, along with my dad and Frederick. The pale blue dusk plays with the furious wind. The atmosphere is dense, twanging with crickets. Torches flicker in the northern breeze. Underneath my feet, I feel the cold black earth. I look at the mauve, purple and blue sky against tall, swaying trees. The evening feels vivid. Dangerous. Mad.

  To my right I see Frederick and Mina. Their faces are awash with fear. Frederick’s eyes are restless. Mina’s appearance is in tatters. Her dark hair is tufty, and her hands and feet are dirty. To my left I see my dad’s angular face, shadows darken his green eyes. Next to him is the wizard, scratching his chin with his hair flaring around his face. The people of the city surround me. Their eyes stare straight at me. Standing right in front of me is Grethe in all white, giving her the appearance of an angel. Her blonde hair is pulled tightly into a crown, her forehead is glowing.

  As I crack my fingers I’m pelted by my own thoughts. Don’t do this. Run, defy, fight, but don’t kill for what is yours. I silence my mind and face my sister. A fine strand of her blonde hair whips free with a gust of wind and lands across her cheek, and she gapes at me with eternity in her eyes. For a moment, I see myself in Grethe. It’s terrifying. As if I am facing myself in battle.