The King's Assassin

by M.M. Brownlow

  Chapter 9

  The rain continued to fall through the night, and the dawn found Aislynn and Byron inside the barracks practice arena, throwing daggers at targets. Neither of them wanted to get soaked just to practice, so they had decided on some inside “games” for today’s exercise. The current game was to throw five daggers as quickly as possible, with each of them scoring points for speed as well as accuracy. Aislynn was definitely better than Byron was at this game, since he’d never really had any opportunity to perfect the skill; he was definitely a melee fighter, not a ranged one.

  The two of them had also opted for target practice this morning due to the late night before. The lack of sleep had the effect of making their reflexes a touch slower than usual, so it was considerably more likely that one of them could get hurt accidentally. The sparring matches were just for practice, some friendly competition, so indoors was definitely the best option.

  The guardsmen in attendance were having a lot of fun themselves, suggesting games to play and making bets on the outcome of the matches. The odds were considerably in Aislynn’s favor, which did nothing to improve Byron’s mood this morning. He decided that tomorrow would be sword and shield practice, something that Aislynn would have minimal training in, if any at all. He had to even the score again, or his fellows would be impossible to live with!

  Cheta decided that she wanted to join in the fun too, jumping up to catch Byron’s dagger by the handle just before it could hit the target.

  “Hey! That’s cheating!” he yelled.

  “Well I didn't tell her to do it,” Aislynn replied with a smirk. She’d found it funny. She tossed another knife in Cheta’s direction, the dagger spinning blade over handle through the air. Cheta dropped Byron’s dagger and leaped into the air, grabbing Aislynn’s knife easily and dropping back to the ground.

  “Happy now? She has one of yours and one of mine. She’s got a good idea though…”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “How about you throw a dagger and I'll try to knock it out of the air with mine. Then you can try to do the same.”

  It sounded a bit complicated and difficult to Byron, but he figured he might as well give it a try. He was sure he couldn't be humiliated any more than he had been already. Byron took aim at the target and let fly.

  Clang. Aislynn’s dagger hit his near the tip, sending it veering off to the side, missing the target completely. Her next dagger was already in the air, spinning toward the target.

  Clang. Byron’s dagger hit hers too, but he’d been slower off the mark, so the dagger veered off center, but still bit into the edge of the target, scoring points for Aislynn. He tossed his next dagger, which hit the target dead center.

  Triumphantly, he turned toward Aislynn to gloat a little, but the words caught in his throat. The look on her face was horrifying. She stared off into the distance, wide-eyed and pale as the color totally drained away from her face, turning it an unhealthy shade of grey. Her brown eyes were flat and lifeless.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Byron walked quickly toward her, seriously concerned.

  Cheta whined, and nudged at Aislynn's hand, but she didn't move. It was as if she’d suddenly died and stood there, frozen in time, unable to fall. Byron would have thought her dead if it wasn’t for the fact that he could see her breathing shallowly.

  Just as Byron was about to yell for a healer, Aislynn blinked and drew in a shuddering breath.

  “We have to go, right now,” she said in a quiet voice. “Something is horribly, horribly wrong.”

  Aislynn couldn't describe the anguish she’d just felt rolling down the link she shared with Eryk. He’d been sleeping and then suddenly he’d been awake. An instant later, this horrible pain came out of nowhere. It was literally too painful for words.

  Just then, a guard came stumbling into the room, skidding to a halt in front of them.

  “Captain,” he gasped, “you are summoned immediately, both of you.” He looked like he was about to faint. “You must go to the king’s chambers.”

  It all settled into place with those words. The sudden awakening, then the pain that had followed.

  “The king’s dead,” Aislynn said, just a little louder than a whisper. Byron’s gaze flicked toward her, stunned. The guard just nodded confirmation, not knowing what to say.

  “Send someone to wake Eryk,” Byron ordered one of the guards as he started toward the door.

  “Don't bother,” Aislynn interjected as she followed him. “He already knows.”

  They set off at a run, streaking through the downpour and into the castle. This early in the morning, there weren't too many people around, so they made it to the stairs without seeing anyone or having to stop and explain their rush. Taking the staircase two steps at a time, they rushed to the king’s rooms, finding two pale and shocked guards on duty outside the door. Byron just glared at them as they crossed the threshold; he’d deal with them later.

  Eryk was already there, and so were Collin and Branden, which really surprised her. She wondered what Branden was doing here, or why he was even awake at this time of day. The chief healer was just arriving as they entered, and he moved immediately through the reception room and into the adjoining bedroom. Aislynn and Byron followed him in, along with the others, and they all stood silently, waiting for the official verdict. They didn't need to wait for too long.

  “It appears that he died in his sleep a few hours ago, based on the rigidity of the muscles. It looks like his heart may have failed, but I don’t believe that it was a natural occurrence.” The healer, Michael, looked up from the body.

  “Why not? We all know that Tarren wasn’t particularly old, but he hasn't been as healthy or as active as he used to be. Heart failure seems feasible to me.” Collin looked distraught, standing there beside the body of his closest friend.

  “There is a mark on the side of his neck,” the healer explained. “It looks like it could be from a dart of some kind. I believe that the king was murdered, killed with a poisonous dart, or something similar, while he slept.”

  Collin glanced at Byron, and at Aislynn, before turning back to Michael.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. He was obviously making a comparison between this attack and the previous one on Tarren. There had been darts involved then too.

  “No, I can’t be totally certain, but it seems like the most logical conclusion given the evidence presented here before me. The mark on the neck is not natural, not a bug bite or the like, and the inflammation in the tissues surrounding the mark indicates a poison or venom of some kind.”

  Eryk spoke for the first time, moving over to the side of the bed. “Did he feel any pain?” He had argued so much with his father over these past weeks, and he couldn't remember the last time they had been able to spend time together happily. Aislynn felt regret from him now, mixed with the sadness and pain.

  “No, your Majesty,” Michael replied. “He died in his sleep, as I said.”

  “Your Majesty,” Eryk muttered, repeating the royal title that the healer had used. He looked up, glancing over to Collin. “Well, if that’s it then, there’s only one thing left to do right now. We'll get to the bottom of this, find out who's responsible, I promise. Lord Collin, you are required to perform your last act as chief advisor to the king. Please go ring the bells.”

  Eryk turned away, shoulders shaking as he began to cry. Aislynn ached with the need to comfort him, but Branden moved over to console him before she could take a single step, throwing a glare over his shoulder as he passed her. She was obviously unwelcome.

  The healer pulled a sheet up and over Tarren’s cold body, and Collin bowed, unnoticed, before leaving the room. Byron followed him, anger burning in his eyes, to go and question the guards who had been on duty throughout the night.

  Aislynn just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do, as the sound of bells rang out over the city
, breaking the silence of the early morning. The king was dead.