Chapter 20
The next dawn found Aislynn in the barrack’s courtyard, but it wasn’t Byron she was sparring with. Today, she had convinced her two guardsmen to help her exercise. The two men, twins named Marcus and Mateo, were more than familiar with the various styles used by the assassins of Evendell since the royal guards often trained alongside the students of the Academy, and they were proving to be a good match for Aislynn. Byron watched the action from a safe distance.
“Are you sure that you should be doing that?” he called, unable to keep the worry completely out of his voice. “Didn't the healers tell you to take it easy?”
“This is taking it easy,” she laughed, twisting the quarterstaff in her hands to block first one attack from Marcus and then the next from Mateo. “These two have promised to go easy on me, considering my ‘condition’.”
If that was taking it easy, Byron most definitely didn't want to see what going full out looked like. It was true that they were spacing their attacks so that she only had to parry one at a time, but still. He made some mental notes to change up the training routine for his own men – they could learn a lot from these two.
“So what did you find out yesterday?” Aislynn asked, continuing to parry and attack in a nice, predictable rhythm.
“Well, I sent someone to check out the tavern you mentioned, and his Lordship has indeed been spending a lot of time there. Considerably more than he normally had been, apparently. And he’s been in the company of at least one of the Madelian guards almost every time he’s been there, according to the proprietor.”
“And what about the other thing?”
“Well, the healers aren't entirely sure what to make of it. Last I heard, they had confirmed that the seeds do have analgesic qualities, so that would explain why Branden hasn't needed to get his normal medications here. However, they were also pretty sure that the substance would do something to his mind too, but they weren't sure entirely what that is.”
“Something like going berserk and nearly beating someone to death?” Aislynn scowled in disgust when she thought of what Marja had told her. The girl would apparently survive, but she would be recovering for days, if not weeks.
“You heard about that, did you?” Byron commented. “Nasty bit of work, that. Honestly, it’s likely a good thing that you and Eryk asked me to keep an eye on him, because there were guards close by when it happened. They reported that the only reason he stopped beating that poor girl was because they showed up. That girl would likely be dead if it wasn’t for the two of you and your request.”
“Have you managed to find him yet?” Aislynn asked, concerned about the unsuspecting citizens of the city with a crazy man on the loose.
“Not yet, no. We do have guards stationed at his father’s home, and pairs of guards patrolling the city, but nobody’s reported anything yet. I thought about sending guards out to the various country estates used by the family, but I didn't want to deplete the guard too much. I can ask Lord Geoffrey to send some of the army out to check the estates if you’d like.”
Aislynn shook her head. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary. I do hope that you find him soon, though I have no idea what Eryk will do with him when you do. They have been such close friends. Until now, anyway.”
Byron nodded his head in agreement, but made no comment. It was certainly an unusual situation, and he didn't envy Eryk the decision at all. He hoped the healers would be able to shed some light on Branden’s behavior before it was too late.
Aislynn’s exercises wound down to a close, and she thanked the men for their help. They acknowledged her thanks with short bows from the waist, curly brown hair shining in the sunlight with the movement, and the pair retreated into the building, likely to get changed.
“They are an interesting pair,” Byron commented, nodding after the disappearing forms of the guards.
“They’re perfect for this assignment,” Aislynn said. “They are identical twins, as I’m sure you've noticed, but they have no living family back in Evendell. They keep each other company, their duty here is light, and they are free to do just about what they please beyond that. Have they made any friends among your men?”
“A few, that I’m aware of. The one, the taller one, he seems to be more outgoing than his brother is. At least I think I have that right. How do you tell them apart?”
Aislynn laughed. “The taller one is Marcus. If they are apart, it is a lot more difficult to tell who is who unless they say something. Mateo is considerably quieter than Marcus is, so if you get very short, succinct responses to questions, you’re likely dealing with Mateo. And Marcus smiles a lot more.”
Finally finished up with her stretches, and feeling a little tired from the exertion, Aislynn made her excuses and started back toward the castle.
“I assume I'll see you at breakfast?” she asked as they walked together out of the courtyard.
“I would expect so,” he answered. “Until then, I’m going to go see if the healers have found out any more information about those little seeds.”
They had reached the castle proper, and Byron started down the hall toward the healers’ suite, while Aislynn climbed the stairs to her room. She opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb Marja if she was still sleeping, but she shouldn't have bothered. Just like every other day, Marja was already up, dressed and ready for the day.
“Your dress is on your bed,” she called as Aislynn made her way across the reception room. “I left some hot water for you in the basin.”
Aislynn noticed the Marja seemed a lot more cheerful this morning, and for the first time since they had arrived in Bacovia, Marja hadn't made a remark or thrown a dirty look Aislynn’s way when she arrived back in her rooms, dirty and sweaty and dressed like a boy. Aislynn wondered what the cause was for her good mood, and she really hoped that it wasn’t Eryk’s apparent infatuation.
Aislynn had just finished washing and was about to change her clothing when she heard the door bang open in the other room.
“I’m afraid that the Princess isn’t available…” Marja started, her voice trembling a little.
“I don’t care about whether she’s available or not,” drawled an angry voice, “I will see her now!”
“I’m sorry, my Lord, but –”
“Enough, woman!” interrupted the voice, and Aislynn clearly heard the slap of flesh on flesh as Marja fell silent. Someone had hit her!
Aislynn was about to sneak over to the door to see what was going on in the other room, when she heard laughter, and not from the first man. There were at least two others in the room with him. Reconsidering, Aislynn threw herself back toward her bed, reaching underneath it for the case in which she kept her weapons. She pulled that case up onto her bed not a moment too soon.
“There you are!” drawled that angry voice, and Aislynn turned to see Branden standing in her bedroom doorway, brandishing a long sword. He appeared to be very drunk, slurring his words, which is why she hadn’t recognized his voice.
“Just who do you think you are?” he asked. “Who do you think you are to take Eryk away from the castle and away from his duties? Who do you think you are to make him push Alexius aside?” As he asked her these questions, his voice was getting louder, his rage building. Aislynn felt behind her on the bed, searching for the weapons she wanted. Cheta whined quietly at her feet, trying not to draw attention to herself.
“I’ll tell you who you are! You’re a sneaky and deceptive little creature, passing yourself off as a princess to lure away the king. You’re a manipulative little wench, trying to get a throne for yourself, when it rightfully belongs to Alexius. You’re a cold-blooded killer, who will kill anyone who gets in the way of your goals.”
As Branden spoke, he advanced steadily across the room. Aislynn knew that there were others in the reception room, and she knew that she was likely in serious trouble here. She nudged Cheta with her foot and whispered her
directions. Go get help. Cheta was off like a flash, hurtling past a startled Branden, but she wasn’t so lucky in the reception room. Aislynn winced when she heard a yelp as someone injured the wolf, and she hoped that Cheta had managed to escape the room.
“I’m going to kill you,” Branden declared. “And when you’re dead, Eryk will pick the right woman to be his queen!”
He advanced, swinging his sword clumsily at Aislynn’s head. She yanked her own sword off the bed, parrying the attack easily. As much as she longed to kill this man, she knew that Eryk would never forgive her, even if it was technically in self-defense. Besides, he was obviously not in his right mind, and there was no real justice in killing someone who was clearly insane. Instead, she settled for taking him out of the equation. A quick blow to his temple with the pommel of her sword, and he fell like a sack of potatoes, out cold.
There are definite advantages to fighting someone whose reaction time is horribly impaired, she thought to herself as she moved quickly toward her door, hoping to get a look at the situation before she was engaged in combat again.
It was immediately clear that the next combat wasn’t going to be an easy one. There were three men in the room, all dressed in the green and brown uniforms of Madelian guards. Branden had apparently brought his drinking buddies along for the fun, but watching them, Aislynn knew that they had not been drinking.
“It’s awfully quiet in there,” said one guard, indicating her bedroom with a nod of his head. He was nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, and Aislynn recognized his voice from yesterday morning.
“True,” agreed the second guard, moving toward her. She recognized his voice too.
Both men had their swords drawn, obviously ready for combat, and they advanced with careful, measured paces. Aislynn’s time was up, and she sprang into the reception room, sword and dagger in hand, to give herself the advantage of surprise. She lashed out immediately with her dagger, catching the second guard across the forehead and opening a gash the poured blood down into his eyes, impairing his vision.
The first guard struck at her with his sword, but she had more than enough time to twist around and parry the attack with her dagger, making another attack of her own, stabbing toward his chest. He danced back, a look of surprise on his face.
“He wasn’t lying about you, was he?” the guard asked.
“Hurry up you fools, before that creature can bring help.” This was from the third man in the room. He stood near the door, a drawn dagger streaked with blood. He’d obviously been the one to injure Cheta as she fled the room, and it was apparent from his words that she’d managed to get away. When he spoke, it was also obvious that he wasn’t from Madelia; his words lacked the strange sibilant accent Aislynn had learned to associate with that kingdom. Who was he?
There was no time to ponder that question though, as the first guard recovered from his surprise and advanced slowly toward her with more respect for her abilities evident in his every move. The second guard was still flailing around blindly, which made him a danger not only to her, but also to his companion.
The guard’s sword stabbed forward, lightning quick, as the man danced from side to side. His nervous movements from yesterday took on a different meaning now, as he danced away from her return attack before quickly dancing in with another attack of his own. She managed to parry both of his strikes, but just barely. The other guard’s flailing attacks needed parrying too, and the man was putting his full strength into the swings.
Aislynn knew that she wasn’t going to be able to keep these two at bay for long, and it was with relief that she heard Cheta’s howls begin in the courtyard outside. Her guards would know what that meant, and they would come running. She only needed to last until they got here.
“Damn it,” the third man swore, leaving his place by the door. “The only way I’m going to get a clear shot at the king is if we get rid of her.”
Aislynn glanced over at the man, surprised and suspicious. Her suspicions were confirmed as she watched him move toward her, drawing a sword of his own. The way he moved and the way he handled his weapons screamed to her. Assassin. He must be the one she had known was still in the city, just waiting for a chance to complete his contract.
Desperate not to be engaged with all three men at the same time, Aislynn flew into a wild series of attacks, leaving herself open, but moving too quickly for either of the guards she fought to take full advantage of those openings. She parried the wildly swinging sword as it came around again, guiding it farther in the direction of the swing. She followed through with her dagger, catching the man underneath his arm. When she felt the dagger bite into flesh, she threw her weight behind it, and was rewarded by a grunt of pain and then a gasp as she punctured a lung.
Aislynn left the dagger where it was and turned quickly to face the other man, but not quite quickly enough. She managed to get her sword around in time to block most of the force of his attack, but she caught the other sword too close to the haft, cutting herself across the knuckles. Blood began to flow, making her grip less than certain, and she stepped back quickly, trying to buy herself a little bit of time.
Then the assassin entered the fight, grinning cruelly.
“So you’re the king’s protector, are you?” he asked. “I suspect that you have been more lucky than skilled, but just in case…” He darted forward, dagger leading.
Aislynn brought her sword down quickly, parrying the blow, but she could see the other sword coming in toward her head. Having no other choice, she ducked down below the height of the swing, throwing herself off balance. She scrambled backwards, desperately trying to get her feet under her before the next attack came.
She felt her back collide with the wall behind her, and she used its support to regain her balance. This wasn’t the best position to be in, not by a long shot, but it was all that she had for the time being.
The assassin struck at her again, and again she managed to parry the attack. Her backwards movement had moved her beyond the reach of the other man’s sword, so she used the free instant to strike back at the assassin, bringing her sword up and across from left to right. Had it connected, the blow would have opened the man from belly to neck, but he danced back, easily outdistancing the clumsy strike. She had managed to get a little bit of breathing room though, and hoping her luck hadn’t run out, Aislynn jumped toward the gap between the two men, tucking herself into a roll to minimize the target area she presented as she moved between them. She felt the sting of a blade across her back, but it was a minor cut, and it was a small price to pay for the freedom of space to move in. She jumped up onto the table in the middle of the room and turned to face her opponents from higher ground, giving her a little bit of an advantage.
“Aislynn! I heard Cheta’s howls, and I came running…” Eryk’s voice trailed off as he reached the room and took a quick glance at the situation that awaited him.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” asked the assassin with mock cheerfulness as he turned toward the door.
“NO!” Aislynn, following the assassin’s glance, saw an unarmed Eryk standing in the doorway. What would have possessed him to come here without a weapon?
“How nice of your creature to bring my prey to me. Finally, the contract will be complete.”
Aislynn saw it all happen in slow motion. The guard had his sword up, ready to attack her, and the assassin pulled back his arm to throw his dagger at Eryk. Eryk, still surprised by what he saw, stood unmoving in the doorway, a perfect target. She really had no choice. She leveled her sword at the assassin, and sprang at him from the table, leaving herself open to the guard’s coming attack. She felt the sword bite deep into her shoulder, and she felt the blade rip its way across her body as she leapt. But she also felt her own sword hit home, catching the assassin on the hip, turning him and distracting him from his shot. The dagger flew wide, embedding itself into the doorframe, and
the assassin looked down at her, sprawled and bleeding on the floor.
“You’ll pay for that, you little wench,” he snarled. He drew his foot back, and kicked her hard in the side of the head. The world went black.
The King's Assassin Page 32