Authors: Usman Ijaz
“Do you know what I was just thinking of?” she
asked Amon suddenly.
“Am I to guess?”
“I was thinking of that day you took me to the
farm with the rabbits.”
There was a brief silence, and then Amon asked
in a low tone, “And what of it?”
“You taught me a lesson then, Amon. One I have not
forgotten.”
“Good,” Amon muttered, low and guarded.
“You helped me to understand that we are
different from those around us. That we are something more. Harbinger’s of
death, I remember you saying. Since that day, I have always envisioned us as
the tools of the death god. In a manner, what we do is to fulfill the will of
Anshan. His angels of death. I never thanked you for that lesson, and I want
you to know that I appreciate what you taught me. Thank you, Amon.”
She watched his back for any response, but her
only answer was silence. She heeled her horse up beside Amon, sharing the road
that stretched before them.
2
That night the two assassins found themselves in
the common room of a tiny inn in a small town. The sound in the common room of
The Dancing Lady was of men away from their duties and simply enjoying
themselves. The room was small, and at the moment it was teeming. Men crowded
at the few tables, and more stood watching the games of Seven Hand at the rear
tables
--
they jeered loudly in a drunken ensemble whenever someone’s
hand proved to be too poor. Smoke and spicy aromas from the meat on the open
spits filled the room. Of the dancing lady there was no sign.
Amon and Iris sat at a table, devoid of their
priest garb, seemingly no more than a tall man with a young, straight-haired
youth beside him. Around them the seats were empty; anyone who chose to sit too
closely took one look at the man’s severe face and moved themselves. Amon wore
a tunic that bared his arms to his shoulders and carried two small knives at
his waist. These he let people see, the others, the ones hidden beneath the
tunic, were always a surprise. The girl was garbed in a similar black tunic
with large sleeves that swallowed her arms whole. The two seemed encased in an
atmosphere all of themselves, one that differed from the rest of the common
room.
“Amon, can we go and join their game?” Iris
asked. Her green eyes turned to watch the men gathered near the back curiously.
“What for?” Amon asked as he plowed morsels of
fish into his mouth. “We do not need to be seen with the likes of them.”
The girl sighed. “It seems as though they are
having fun.”
“They are fools,” Amon said absently as he
washed the fish down with ale. “They will take merriment wherever they can find
it. Blind fools, at that.”
Iris looked at him. “Why do you call them
blind?”
Amon spared her a glance. “They do not see the
world around them. They are content to ignore their own doom and divulge in
their pitiful games.”
Iris forgot about the games and turned back to
the table“We’ve traveled from town to town since Haven, Amon, and still there
is no sign of the remaining Legionnaire and the Ascillian boy. What if they
escaped somehow?”
“They have not,” Amon said, low and harsh. “If
they have turned back and are heading towards Grandal, it will not do them any
good. Jonas has his spies in the king’s court, and we will find out if they
headed there. For now we can only move further up the road, and make certain we
stop them when next we meet.”
Iris nodded slowly and stared at her empty
plate, her face a picture of silent dissension. Amon watched her closely, then
asked, “Do you fear this Ascillian child?”
“No” Iris said calmly. “It is simply that ... it
is hard to believe a mere boy could endanger so much.”
“The Ascillians were always bastards, that is
why the lot of them are dead today,” Amon told her. “If you want to go and
watch the fools play at cards, then go. I will be waiting here.”
Iris grinned, hopped off her stool and went to
the back of the room to join the crowd of men watching. Amon watched her go
with pensive black eyes. He wondered if she still sometimes thought of finding
her mother and father one day. He knew she had once, but he had ruthlessly
driven those thoughts from her head, distracting her with the present. It was
no good for her to be mired in a past that she knew nothing about, and it was
no good for him. He could have told her all she needed to know about her mother
... and her father. Then again, to what end? It would simply make her ask more
of her tedious questions. Her seeming doubt towards their current mission
should not prove too dangerous, but he treaded carefully.
‘
Together they were among the finest killers in
all the west. The mere name of the Blood Assassins was enough to drive fear
into any man’s heart there. They had built their name in blood across their
native Xian Anoura, until even those in other countries had become aware of
them. But alone they were nothing, just one step above common murderers. He
knew this, and hated it. He was growing wary of the nimble state of the girl’s
mind. In a few more years, when he had hardened her some more, made her more
like himself, he would not have to worry about it, but for the moment he
thought much on it. At times the girl broke out into gleeful laughter at the
sight of something utterly stupid, and at times she wanted to engage with other
children. She was not like the other children, and for this reason he always
forbid her to play with them. He did not need anybody ruining his fine young pupil.
Even as he watched the distinction between Iris
and other children was made clear to him. The girl stood among the crowd of
onlookers, watching with a faint smile. A boy a few years older than her came
to stand at her side, then deciding he did not like the spot moved away. The
girl looked around, and her face changed from childish glee to pure disgust as
she saw the boy about to walk away. She spun around in lithe motion, grabbed
the cutpurse by the hair and pulled him back. The boy crashed into one of the
tables and dropped the pouch, staring wide-eyed at the girl. The commotion
caused all eyes to turn towards the scene.
Amon watched from his stool as Iris went to
where the boy lay and picked up her pouch. He noted the anger and disgust on her
face with some delight and pride. The girl reattached her pouch to her belt
and, to Amon’s disappointment, turned away. The cutpurse looked around at all
the faces that were laughing at him. He lunged after her. Iris wheeled around
and struck with an open palm. Her hand connected with the boy’s nose, and a
fine spray of blood erupted. The cutpurse staggered back and fell on the floor,
cupping his broken nose, blood leaking through his fingers.
All eyes were on the girl as she came to the
counter. Amon looked at her with his eyebrows raised and a thin smile upon his
lips. He reveled in the hate that ensued on her face. Perhaps she would not be
a lost cause.
“I want to go to our room,” she said to him.
“Things have gotten stale?”
The two headed deeper
into the inn with the eyes of all the patrons on their backs.
1
Alexis came around the tree with both guns drawn
and held out before him, his fingers already bearing down on the triggers. His
first sight was of Connor, standing half-slumped against the tree and his eyes
wide in shock, his breeches pooled around his ankles. Then his gaze shifted to
where Connor’s lay.
Alexis saw what he first mistook to be a large
man huddled before Connor on the leaf-strewn ground, thick arms wrapped over
his shaggy head and knees pulled to his chest. His guns were aimed at the large
man and blood rushed through his head, making it hard to hear anything but a
strange sound that threatened to drive him mad
.
When he did recognize
the sound for loud, guttural sobs, he thought it must be from Connor. Then he
understood that it came from the man.
Adrian came around the tree and stood dazed. He
looked first at Connor and then at the large man before him. “Alexis ... what
is it?”
Alexis could only wish he knew. He realized that
his fingers were still bearing down on the triggers, and forced them to ease
up. What he did know was that what lay huddled before them was no ordinary man.
The man was nearly twice the size of any ordinary man. His entire build was
broad and large. His arms were as thick as tree branches and covered with the
same horrible scars that marred his legs, making the Legionnaire think that he
must have been the recipient of some terrible beatings. He wore a large,
coarse, simple gray tunic and pants of the same color and material that stopped
a little past his knees. There was also that harsh weeping noise, penetrating
down to the center of Alexis’s mind and driving him mad.
Connor pulled up his breeches and came to stand
behind him. Alexis give him a cursory glance to make sure he was all right.
Looking at the weeping hulk before them, he realized that whatever the creature
was, they had frightened him badly. He lowered his guns, confident that he
could blow the man’s head off if he so much as made a move towards any of them.
“Who are you?” Alexis asked, but still that
relentless weeping continued. “
What
are you?”
They watched the large brute continue to bawl,
until they couldn’t stand it any longer. From his peripheral vision Alexis saw
Adrian rush forward. He stuck his arm out and held him back.
“What are--”
“He’s afraid, Alexis!” said the boy. “Can’t you
see it? He’s only frightened.”
Alexis shook his head. “I can see that, but I
can also see the size of him. He could rip your head right off your shoulders.”
“I don’t think he will,” Adrian said. “Let me
talk to him.”
Alexis let him go then and readied his guns. He
watched as Adrian knelt a little way back from the large man.
“It’s all right,” the boy whispered gently to
the large brute, but the weeping continued. “We’re not going to hurt you. We’re
friends.” His words fell on deaf ears.
“What do we do now?” said Connor.
“We move on and leave him here,” Alexis told
them. “If he found his way here, he can find his way out again.”
Idiot, you
found your way here, and can you find it out again?
“Wait!” Adrian cried as he turned to face him.
“Alexis, start whistling!”
“What? What good would that do?”
“Just whistle!” Adrian said impatiently.
Alexis shook his head and whistled a few cheery
notes. The weeping continued, and then abruptly it trailed off into sobs and
then stopped almost at once. The man on the ground turned and looked towards
the source of the noise. Alexis saw his face, and his grip tightened on his
guns. The face that looked at him seemed to slope outwards. Under a shaggy mat
of black hair, the large man’s eyes were small and appeared sunken beneath his
large brow. The nose was large and stuck out like the side of a hill. The man
smiled then through the tears and grime, chapped lips splitting apart and
displaying large gravestones of teeth.
He’s nothing more than a mere boy
,
Alexis thought, looking into the man’s gleeful black eyes.
He might be large
on the outside, but inside he’s a simple child.
He stopped whistling then,
but the joyful delight remained on the man’s face.
“All right, now,” Adrian said gently. “Who are
you?”
The man turned and looked at him, and then at
Connor, and then at Alexis again. “M-m-me?” His voice was a deep rumble, like gravel
inside a drum.
“Yes, you,” Adrian said.
“I’m ... I’m Milen!” They watched as his face
began turn to despair once more.
“Whistle some more,” Adrian said over his
shoulder. Alexis did so, and Milen’s face lit up again. “Milen, listen to me.
We are friends, we don’t mean you harm. Do you understand that?”
Milen looked from Alexis to Adrian, but it was
clear that he wanted to face the music man again. Adrian repeated the question,
and Milen nodded slowly, eyeing them carefully.
Alexis stopped whistling and holstered his guns.
“Good,” he said. “I’m Alexis, Milen, and this is Connor and that’s Adrian. Do
you live in these woods?” Again Milen nodded. “Where?” Milen pointed to some
deeper depth of the woods. “Can you take us there?” Milen nodded.
Within a few minutes they were following Milen
deeper into the woods.
2
Adrian had decided that he liked Milen upon
first seeing the large man smile. It was the simple innocence that his smile
seemed to exude. Milen led them through the woods, picking his way as easily as
though he followed a visible path.
“Milen, you live in these woods?” Adrian asked.
“Yup!” Milen cried, smiling cheerfully. He
stopped suddenly at the sound of a woodpecker and stood staring at the bird
with his head cocked to the side. Adrian exchanged a puzzled glance with his
companions. When Alexis reminded him to keep going, Milen jumped and looked at
the three of them as though just seeing them. Then he smiled and led them
deeper into the woods.