City of Assassins

by Farah Cook

  I wipe the line of blood she draws across my neck with my arm. She glares at me for a while, as if trying to work out if I am telling her the truth. I feel her deep gaze on me. She’s trying to remember something. Anything. The anger in her eyes, the murder and contempt returns. She doesn’t believe me and is threatening to kill me. I let her take the sword, illuminated in the darkness. She catches another glimpse of me.

  I want to take her into my arms and hold her tight, but the love I feel for her is in a state of limbo. I cannot tell her how much she means to me. She wouldn’t understand. She’s different from other girls, stronger. Even when she should have been feeling vulnerable, she had the courage and strength to come out here seeking answers.

  She doesn’t seem to remember much. But my heart tells me she recognizes me. I stare at her as she tightens the grip around the sword’s hilt. She’s not sure if she should kill me. She is a coldblooded assassin, and the sword calls for killing. I see that clearly. She is fighting the urge, and if she continues, she’ll cause trouble. In the darkness, Mina’s shadow blends with the room. She draws in close and begs Nora not to kill me.

  I take one step closer toward her. She stands, unfazed. Her eyes move between Mina and me. “I will tell you everything.” I calm her palpitating nerves. The frustration she carries eases. She takes a deep breath and listen to what I have to tell her.

  I try to figure out what part to begin with, hoping she will believe me. Half way through my story, she listens to the evidence of the tattoo on her back, and on her wrist. I think she believes me, but I am no fool.

  As I listen to the words pour out of my mouth I realize what I am telling her is extraordinary. How do I expect her to believe any of it especially since she’s suffering from memory loss? I wouldn’t. Why should she? She’s at her lowest ebb, feeling vulnerable, exposed, raw. I can tell from the way she sighs, moves, and stares at me. All she trusts are her emotions. I see it in her eyes. I know her better than she thinks I do—her feelings, her gestures. I observed her and was obsessed by her from the moment I met her.

  That day at Dock Harbor, she looked like she didn’t belong. Her provocative attitude was that of an untouched night. In many ways, Nora is still a mystery to me. What is she thinking? How is she feeling? Sometimes, I am not sure she feels anything at all. Her emotions are guarded. Could I be her brother? I ask myself if it is true. The evidence is there. We look alike. We have the same drive, the same passions. We are on a journey to discover the truth about the world of the Vikings and about ourselves.

  “You have to believe me. The sword in your hand is a family legacy. And your destiny as assassin has led you here to find the remaining three weapons.”

  “If you’re telling the truth, and I’m not saying you are,” she says, pausing and sucking in the humid air. “How will we ever succeed? I’ve been captured as a slave and will be sold to the assassins tomorrow. They may kill me or even worse, torture me, which seems like a common practice around here. The world you speak of, where is it? And how will we return if we can’t remember how we got here in the first place?”

  “You have to trust your instincts, Nora,” I tell her. “This crossing is not going to be easy. If it were, we’d already have the weapons. But do understand, the weapons possess an immense power. I know what the sword in your hand is capable of slaying. The blade alone can kill men, giants, and dangerous creatures. I’ve seen you do it when we fought in the Forbidden Areas.”

  “What you say doesn’t make any sense.” The look on her face turns grave.

  “Look, I can’t begin to imagine how you must feel right now. It’s not the first time you’ve been in a situation like this.”

  “Did I lose my memory in the past?”

  I laugh a little. It’s ironic the way Nora refers to the past.

  “No, it’s complicated. You have to trust me, and if you don’t, trust your instincts.”

  “Trust my instincts?” Her mind is distant, confused. I can see it in the way she carries herself in the darkness, shades of her body moving restlessly. Arms swinging, hands twitching.

  “I have to return before the tradesman finds me gone.” She turns, but I tell her to wait. She lingers for a while. I reveal my plan.

  “Tomorrow, I will shadow you into the assassins’ ground. We need to get you in safely. Then you will wait for me.” She detects the worry in my voice.

  “What do you expect me to do once I am inside?” she says.

  “Stay alive,” I say. “And don’t do anything irrational. Don’t speak unless you need to give an answer. Try to mimic the tribesman’s behavior. You do not want to make the assassins angry.”

  “What about the girl?” she peers at Mina. “What help will she be?”

  “Mina is resourceful. Don’t underestimate her. Her sense of detecting danger is strong. She foresees threatening situations before they arise.”

  “She’s weak,” says Nora. She sounds harsher than she ever was before, her voice a blend of judgment and prejudice. Mina looks at Nora without moving a muscle.

  “You don’t have to worry about that for now,” I say. “There’s more to Mina than you know.” I touch Nora’s shoulder, but she brushes my hand away swiftly. I wonder how she would react if I tell her we are in love. The truth suddenly seems beyond pathetic and yet believable. She came here for the truth. She feels something deep inside the cold chambers of her heart. I am sure of it.

  “Very well. I don’t have a choice. Tomorrow, I will follow Vance to the assassins’ ground. I don’t know what to expect, except—”

  “Expect the worst,” I say. “Always expect the opposite of good in a place like this.” She slinks away like a stray dog. Mina and I watch her leave.

  “Nora no feel like Nora,” says Mina. “She someone else.”

  “I know,” I sigh and imagine what will happen tomorrow. The way I know her, she’ll not want to do what I asked of her. “We have to keep a strict watch on the assassins’ ground. There’s a view from one of the abandoned towers into their courtyard.”

  “We no weapons. No magic, no—”

  “Mina, in this world, we have to be without it and use our other gifts.”

  “How you want use gifts?”

  “My physical strength in this world is still great. Should Nora be in danger, I will not hesitate to make use of my powers to save her. Even if it blows our cover. Her life is important. She might not even know, but tomorrow she turns seventeen. Did you know that?”

  “No! What all means, Frederick?”

  “It means the Verans will use the artifacts to awaken Yggdrasil.” I stare at Mina. “It means Nora will finally receive the encrypted runes that unlock the door to the Nine Worlds.”

  “Nora knows,” says Mina. “I see in her eyes. She no trust us. She no do what you say. What we do then?”

  “She has no other choice Mina. We need to get those weapons. She’s our only hope.”

  “Why you tell Nora your name William and no Frederick? Why not say you love—”

  “Because I will have to ask her to make a choice she will not like. Telling her I am Frederick would complicate things. I can’t take that risk. I need to make sure we succeed tomorrow. It’s the only way out of here—the only way that will lead us to the Rebels. I think they’ve been watching us, following us. I feel an eerie presence, even now as we speak.”

  “No understand what you say, Frederick. Rebels?”

  “I know all this doesn’t make any sense, but I’ve seen things, Mina. Call it signs. I think I know what we have to do to get the weapons and get the hell out of here.”

  “Tomorrow,” says Mina and waits by the edge of the room. She’s as restless as I. Before dawn breaks, we sneak out and find a position that sets the tradesman’s house in sharp view from our hiding place.

  I see them departing from the narrow clay house. Nora’s hands are folded and tied at the front. She walks behind Vance as they make their way toward the high walls beyond the main castle quarter.
The air is cooler and lighter on this side of the city. Soon, they will get past the main guards at the entrance gates and walk inside the assassins’ ground, which is a large mansion with high terracotta walls and brick towers. I’ve seen it before from the roofs across the city, and at night I’ve spied into their secret chambers without being noticed.

  Mina and I cross the roof of the houses stacked shakily up against one another, soundless as the quickening of the wind. On the north facing side of the city, we avoid being seen by some early morning traders and tribesmen.

  I notice the passing soldiers, some drunk and others sleepy with whores walking by their sides, casting lazy eyes. I cover my face in the cowl of my cape and pass them with ease to reach the deserted tower that looks straight into the assassins’ main square. It’s a long way up, and the air is filled with sweat and hot spices. Mina’s feet are small but fast. She scurries to the top like the wind.

  “Do you see her?” I ask while she stares into the open space. I reach the top and catch a faint glimpse of Nora in the main courtyard. It looks as if she’s being questioned by one of the guards—a dangerous looking man with an ugly face. He looks Norse, from our world, but the sun has made his skin leathery and gaunt.

  I wonder if he cares who she is. Doesn’t look like it. He does not seem to recognize anything about her, not her unique features or the Viking symbols tattooed on her arm. Nora has the emblem of the eagle crest and it’s visible even to me at this distance. The guard doesn’t seem to notice much about Nora except for her hair.

  Two large armed men take Nora away so suddenly. My heart stops. The air in my lungs evaporates. What are they going to do to her? The tribesman collects a small sack from the guard and leaves quickly.

  “What we do?” Mina is anxious. “Frederick must help Nora now!” Mina senses the same danger I do.

  “I need to think,” I say. “But whatever happens, Mina, you must stay here. Do not follow me.” She nods with a worried look on her face. I crane my neck to orientate myself. We’re in the upmost north quarters of the city and as the day emerges, the sun’s blazing rays burn my skin dry. I scratch my arms feeling frustrated. Why did they take her away and where to? I hope she doesn’t do anything irrational.

  This area is usually quieter but not at this hour of the morning. A group of drunken soldiers leave the whorehouses. If they spot us, we could be exposed. I lay low thinking this mission is suicide. I’d have to rescue her.

  The tower we’re in is higher than the dwellings overlooking the assassins’ main square. It’s too high to jump. I need to get to the lower houses and climb my way into the square, and I need to do it undetected.

  The risk of being caught, chased, or killed in the main square is low. Not many guards are on duty in the morning. I have to put my powers to the test. It didn’t look good the way they took her. If I don’t blow our cover, Nora will.

  Mina and I have done well getting by as foreigners. I’ve used my abilities to snatch fruit, nuts, jam, and jars of pickles from the bazaars and food markets without being seen. That’s how fast I am. But can I move fast enough to pass without being seen on the deadliest grounds in the city?

  My senses are heightened to that of an animal’s. I spread my arms out like an eagle, ready to hover over the roofs of the city.

  “You jump?” says Mina. “Do now, before late.” She doesn’t give me room to even think. She urges me to act. “Jump Frederick. No wait. GO!”

  “Yes,” I say. “I will.” I take a leap of faith and walk to the edge of the tower, which is at least seventy feet high. I let my body plunge. It lifts off the ground, carrying me effortlessly across the rooftops. The breeze is warm and caresses my face. I land softly onto the roof. I climb down into the main courtyard. I made it without being seen. I’m inside the assassins’ mansion.

  12

  NORA

  HE YANKS MY arm and shoves me into a smelly old cell. It’s dark and damp. I turn, my breath heavy, and my mind in eruption. In his hand, he holds sharp scissors. The other man blocks the exit to the cell, spreading his legs, arms folded on his chest. The sword calls for me. I crack my fingers, taking deep, steady breaths. My hands are still tied. Whatever William said to me is not going to work. I cannot let these men cut off my hair.

  “Please,” I say. “Don’t make me hurt you.” The man stops and turns around laughing. He looks at the guard at the door.

  “Did you hear that, Gunnar?”

  “I did indeed, Rune.”

  “The slave girl is threatening to hurt me.” His voice is hoarse and dry like sandpaper.

  “You’re mistaken,” I say. “I am no slave girl.” I yank my hands lose from the thick twine. In one motion, I rip out the sword from my side and take off Rune’s and Gunnar’s heads. Their heavy bodies fall to the ground like timber, heads rolling out of the cell sprayed with blood. As I step out of the cell a memory flickers before my eyes.

  I’m in a dank den. It’s the criminal underworld. The atmosphere is dangerous. I stand facing a girl who wants me dead. I am an assassin, and I kill people for a living. That’s why I carry this sword. I am here to kill someone. My thoughts are interrupted when I hear sounds of panic echo in the walls and corridors. The guards are chasing a tall shadow. Fast as the wind, a dark shade closes in on me, shouting.

  “Nora! What have you done?” William reaches out for my hand. “Why did you kill these men?” He stops and looks down panicking.

  “They were going to cut off my hair,” I shout angrily.

  “And you decided it was a better plan to cut off their heads?” He looks at the pool of blood and takes my hand. We run down the long hall of arches like wild animals chased by lions. Except the guards are not lions. They are sheep. I could easily kill them all with my sword.

  We turn out toward the garden and into a maze made from low cut shrubs. When I look over my shoulders I don’t see guards. We’ve shaken them off for now.

  “We’re done for,” he says. “How could you be so stupid, Nora? Killing those two men will lead to our deaths. The assassins live to kill. Congratulations, you’ve just given them a greater reason to execute us. Not only that, you’ve made it harder to get access to the weapons and to find a route to the Rebels. Now what are we going to do? Death or the desert? There’s no way out of this forsaken City of Assassins. Forget about the city. The damned kingdom of Arres. We’re trapped; do you hear me? Trapped, and there’s no way home.”

  William clenches his fists in the air. The expression in his eyes is severe. I try taking his hand into mine, but he jerks it away. He walks fast following the edge of the maze. I straddle behind. When we reach the other end, an army of guards greets us. I swing my blood-coated sword around. It feels familiar like I know every inch of its sharp blade. The men take a step back, the expression on their faces horrid.

  “Be careful, Nora,” he pulls me back while the guards close in on us. They have formed a tight circle. “Don’t move a muscle until I tell you.”

  “I’ve got this,” I tell him. “I can easily bring them all down.”

  “Oh, I know that,” he says annoyed. “You’ve made that very clear.”

  “What are you saying?” I feel a pulse behind my eyes, a burning sensation.

  “Just don’t kill anyone,” he shouts. “Okay?”

  “We have no other choice,” I say. “They will kill us if we don’t kill them first.” The guards are armed to the hilt with sharp swords, axes, and steady shields. Some wear glorious silver helmets. They swing their swords and axes into position.

  “Drop your weapons,” says a dark voice behind the circle of guards. The circle parts and a man pushes his way through. The guards all stand back and lower their weapons.

  His long, light hair spills down his shoulders like a thick curtain. His eyes are dark gray, and skin pale. Ashen. His features look oddly familiar like I’ve seen him somewhere before. My heart tells me to drop my sword and reach out for him. To put my hand on his chest and feel his heart beat,
but something stops me. I don’t know what. Fear perhaps or maybe disgust.

  “Lord Harald,” says one of the guards and bows. The rest follow.

  Harald tosses his black cape to the side and steps forward, facing us. He is taller than average with broad shoulders and a narrow waist.

  “Who are you? What are you doing inside my mansion?” His voice is deep and raspy, as if he speaks from the grave. He stares at my sword. He reaches out to touch the blade, but I step back, grunting like an animal. The boy who calls himself my brother pinches my arm. I say nothing while I feel Harald’s eyes consume me.

  “S- stay, away,” I say, controlling my breath. “It-it is mine.” I cannot get the words out. The air around me feels thin, and my head feels light. Everything around me begins to spin, and I feel like falling, but I hold the ground firmly with my feet. This man holds some kind of power over me. I hide the weapon in its sheath. Harald’s stiff glare doesn’t leave its sight.

  “Yours? This sword belongs to us. Do you know how we punish thieves? How we punish slaves who kill guards that serve the Emperor?” I hear his deep voice echo, his head getting bigger and bigger as he comes toward me, but not close enough to touch his chest and feel his heart underneath the hard skin covering him. “Hand over the sword, slave girl.” He takes a deep juddering breath.

  “Try me!” I say. “And fail.”

  “How dare you?” he says. “Have you come from the North? Did my enemy send you here? Speak in the name of the Emperor, or I shall make your death memorable.” I tear my eyes away from his and look at William, expecting an answer, but there’s none. He’s silent. “Where have you come from?” he demands.