Victoria cleared her throat and hoped that her voice would come out stronger this time. To her relief, it did. “Fine, then, Roman. Watch all you want. You might even get a free show. Now, step aside, so I can get back to what I was doing.” Victoria heard the soft hiss of steel. She knew that sound all too well. “Roman?” The point of his dagger appeared beneath her chin, and Victoria gulped involuntarily. “Unfortunately, I can’t let you do that.” Roman’s arm snaked around her shoulder and pulled her closer, until Victoria was sure she could feel his on the back of her neck.
Victoria’s heart was now thudding wildly, and she forced herself to take a deep breath while she considered her options. There was one, of two things to do. She could die, and prove to Raela and the rest of the nuns that she wasn’t cut out for this after all. Surely, Roman would deliver her dead body back to the convent, as a warning to all those who should try to cross him. Something along those lines, since all good assassins used one-liners and gruesome warnings, so she had heard. The second option, however, was much more frightening, because it was not as certain as death. Roman pressed his dagger, flat, against Victoria’s throat. She knew that move, she had practiced it enough times. It was a subtle threat, one to remind her that the seconds of her life were slowly ticking away, as she thought and considered her options. In a moment, he would twist his dagger, and it would be over. It would be a terrible way to die. In a dark forest, with no one around to tell how it really happened. The only account of what happened that night would be forever lost, or would be re-told by Roman, but only his version of the events. He wouldn’t tell how she was probably reaching her spiritual zenith, as his dagger was pressed against her throat. Or how she had secretly liked being that close to him, but at the same time, was too ashamed to admit it. But, that’s how it went, Victoria supposed. The winners write the history books, and the losers whine from their graves.
Not today, however. Not today. She would not let Raela get the satisfaction. While death would be terrible enough, the idea that Raela would probably blacken her name after her death was motivation enough. The second option, then, was the only option. “I guess this is the end, then.” Roman’s voice shattered Victoria’s thoughts, and she realized with a start, the situation she was in. “I guess it is.” She added in a pout at the end. Victoria didn’t believe for even a second that Roman would buy it, but figured it was worth a try. There was silence, for a moment. If her intuition was correct, Roman was taking it all in. In a second, he would see the trap, and walk right around. Before that second occurred, she had to act.
Victoria mustered all of her strength and thrust her elbow backwards. Her elbow connected with Roman’s abdomen, which Victoria noticed, absentmindedly, was rather toned. It likely didn’t do him any lasting damage, but the blow shifted the dagger away from Victoria’s throat long enough for her to duck down, and deliver another blow. She knew shin kicking was not what master assassins did, but she’d have to deal with her techniques later. As the heel of her foot connected with his shin, Victoria felt him squirm away. “Oh, no you don’t.” She kicked his feet out from under him, and smirked when she heard a satisfying thud just a moment later. Victoria quickly searched her mind for what she could do when her opponent was on the ground. She drew nothing but a blank. Victoria shrugged her shoulders, and threw herself down on top of Roman, who was struggling to right himself. Her elbow landed squarely on the back of his head, and he suddenly fell limp.
“
Okay, Roman. Playing dead is for possums. Get up.” There was no movement. “Really. I’ve won now; we both knew it would happen, so just get up. We can call it a draw. Maybe.”
He still didn’t budge. Victoria reached down and felt along his head. His hair is so thick, she found herself thinking, oddly, but she turned her thoughts back to the matter at hand. She moved her hand around the base of his skull, and her hand came upon a raised mound. She rubbed it a little, and her hand came away sticky. Panic set in, and she stumbled up. He looked even worse when she was standing.
Roman looked as if he had been barreled over by gods know what, and he lay sprawled out over the uneven earth. Either this was a very good act, or he was knocked out, or worse…dead. Victoria gulped as she thought about the last possibility. She hadn’t wanted to kill him, necessarily. Perhaps just a part of her wanted to kill him, just a tiny percentage. The majority of her wanted to keep him alive, but the majority that did was split on the reasons. Sister Katherine had told her not kill anyone. She had meant on purpose, right? Victoria reasoned. She couldn’t very well be punished if she accidentally killed anyone. It was an accident, which meant it wasn’t her fault.
Victoria sighed. There was no use trying to convince herself. No matter how much she reasoned, she wasn’t supposed to kill him.
A tiny voice inside of her piped up. It was different from the angry little voice that accused her of liking to kill. This one was soothing. “Perhaps you didn’t want to kill him. Not because you’re a particularly good person, dear”, the voice said apologetically, “but because maybe, just maybe…you care.” Victoria’s gaze returned to Roman’s body as she cleared her head. Now was probably not the ideal time to be arguing with her selves, but, there really wasn’t ever a good time to go crazy.
She stared at Roman’s body in silence, as she wondered how exactly she was going to get his body back to camp. If at all possible, she would want to avoid dragging him through the mud all the way there. She could at least give some respect to his body, even if Roman wasn’t technically inside it anymore.
Victoria crept closer to him, lifted one of his arms, staggering backwards under the weight. She sighed. Just one of his arms was going to be too much of a chore. She stumbled and lifted the other, so that Roman’s head was falling forwards into her stomach. She wrapped his limp arms around her waist and started to turn in a circle to head back to camp. Abruptly, Victoria stopped. She looked down to where Roman’s head lay nestled against her stomach. Just ever so faintly, she could feel something pulsing. She stopped and bent down for a closer feel, and then chided herself for her stupidity. She hadn’t even thought to check his pulse. She pressed two fingers against his neck. It was there. Weak, but pulsing steadily. Then he wasn’t dead. Victoria’s lip curled involuntarily into a smile, and she immediately replaced it with a scowl. She shouldn’t be happy he’s not dead. This was the second time he had tried to assassinate her, she thought, and squared her shoulders as newfound confidence washed over her. She couldn’t wait to get him back to camp.
Victoria charged forward, abandoning all attempts concerning Roman’s comfort. As she marched steadily on, she could feel his body sliding clumsily over the earth behind her. Now that she knew he wasn’t dead, Victoria chuckled at the thought of Roman waking up, covered in twigs and mud, with only her word for what had happened in the woods. She giggled at all the obscene things she could tell them, and he’d have no choice but to believe it. It was a pleasant thought, one that gave her company as she traipsed through the black night.
After what felt like almost an hour later, Victoria rounded on a campfire. She was sure that this was the one she had left Sister Katherine at, last, but as she neared, she was sure she heard more than one voice. In fact, there were several, and they seemed to be having a grand old time. Victoria looked down at Roman, who at this point, was caked in mud from the forehead down. Not a single bit of him had been spared. Even the inside of his mouth, as his tongue lolled open, had a considerable amount of dirt inside. Victoria groaned. This must be the initiation rite Raela was hinting at. As she crept closer to the campsite, to her surprise, she saw a crowd of people.
Sister Katherine was still sitting by the fire, sharpening daggers, but now, several other nuns, whom Victoria had never seen before, accompanied her, and they were chatting casually. Every so often they stopped to admire the gleam of the dagger’s metal in the firelight, but then returned to whatever it was they were discussing. A few paces away stood a group of men, all clutching large mugs. One man said something, and paused. Right on cue, the rest of the men erupted into laughter. For a moment, Victoria stood then, stunned. She had expected an entirely different scene, upon arrival. Perhaps Sister Katherine, solemnly congratulating her on her first job. Or even Raela. No, Raela wouldn’t’ give Victoria credit if her life depended on it, but Victoria didn’t need acknowledgement from Raela. All she needed to see was the look on her face. She smiled just thinking about it.
Victoria stepped into the clearing, and immediately, the laughter ceased. Nearly twenty heads swiveled in her direction, and for just a moment, she wondered how silly she looked, carrying what probably looked like a dead body, back into camp. She stood there, waiting for someone to make the first move. The group of men on the left simply stood as well, most of them holding their mugs frozen mid-air. Sister Katherine put down her knife slowly, and got to her feet.
“
Well done, Victoria. Looks like you had…quite the time. You two were just supposed to give each other a hard time. You weren’t supposed to kill him.” Sister Katherine walked briskly over to Victoria, put two fingers to Roman’s neck, and let out a sigh of relief. “He’s not dead, Ammon. You can rest easy now." Victoria didn’t know who Ammon was, but the group of men on the left unfroze, and went back to their drinking and laughing, seemingly unperturbed. Sister Katherine leaned forward and took Roman into her arms, surprising Victoria with her strength. She watched as Sister Katherine half carried, half dragged Roman to a spot near the fire, and was soon pouring something down his throat.
Victoria saw him come to a few moments later. He was startled, neck snapping every which way, as he took in the campsite, but otherwise unharmed. Victoria sighed, relieved and she inched closer to the campfire.
After his frantic awakening, Roman had calmed down, and was now lying on his back. His elbows were bent back behind his head, and he was gazing up at the dark sky above, the soft light from the campfire illuminating only one side of his face. Victoria moved closer yet, until she was almost assuredly blocking his view of the sky. As her lengthening shadow merged with his, Roman’s eyes flickered towards her, and Victoria was at a loss for words. She was suddenly unsure as to why her feet had carried her over here. Or why she was now hovering awkwardly above him. Victoria followed his gaze to the sky, as she was still unable to come up with anything to say, but she could still feel Roman’s gaze burning into her.
She looked down at him, tentatively. He held her gaze, and for a split second, it was as if they had hurtled backwards through time, and they were in the woods again. But the second passed, and Roman looked away, his gaze hard, unreadable, and now fixed permanently on the starry night.
Victoria hovered there for another moment, but it was gone. What it was, she wasn’t sure, but she knew that it wasn’t coming back. She shuffled away, as gracefully as she could, and found a spot next to the fire, far away from Roman. She settled down on her haunches, and observed. Once again, she was shocked at the merriment that was going on in the midst of what she could have sworn, was an assassin’s camp. Her eyes found a wooden setup, that after much squinting, she identified as a makeshift bar. A jolly looking man, with a generous belly was pouring drinks, sloshing them about unconcernedly. Another man, whose face was obscured by the hood he was wearing stumbled over, took a drink, and slapped several stacks of money on the counter. “Nicholas, you’ve given me far too much money!” The bartender said with glee. Nicholas, whom Victoria presumed was the one with the hood, raised a hand, nonchalantly, and shouted “I’ve had a good show today. Keep it. I won’t need it.” Her eyes followed Nicholas as he rejoined the rest of the group.
For a moment, the group just stood. A couple people on the edges milled about and Victoria tilted her head in curiosity, wondering what on earth they could be waiting for. Suddenly, from somewhere Victoria couldn’t place, someone strung a note. The note vibrated in the air, and then dissipated into silence. The group of people, in which could Victoria could now spot Sister Katherine, Raela, and Grace, visibly tensed. Unconsciously, Victoria tensed as well. A sudden movement across the fire alerted her to the fact that Roman must have sat up, and was now paying close attention to what was going on.
Then, as suddenly as it has stopped, the music began again, only this time it was faster, louder, and to Victoria’s disbelief, seemed to be playing a dance tune. Her eyes snapped back to the crowd, but all she could see was a flurry of movement. Victoria scooted closer, and couldn’t help but smile when she noticed Sister Katherine dancing with a tall, cloaked man. She couldn’t see very well, as it was dark and all, but she could have sworn that Sister Katherine was smiling.
Victoria looked sidelong at Roman. He was sitting up now, cross-legged, but still staring straight ahead. She tried to pinpoint his line of vision, but couldn’t find anything. He wasn’t staring at anything, she surmised, but rather, he was looking inwardly. A part of Victoria wanted to crawl over next to him, sit down cross-legged, and join him. But he just looked so distant, so far gone. She knew that look.
Victoria remained by the fireside, and alternated between stealing glances at Roman, and watching the merry crowd. Soon, after what seemed like hours later, and the night, if it was at all possible, was at its darkest, the dancing began to wind down. The crowd dispersed, and several of the nuns began making their way back over to where Victoria sat. The monks, Victoria realized what they were with a start, began wandering back the opposite way. She heard a soft stirring to her right, and turned to see Roman getting up slowly. When he was standing, he raised his arms over his head, stretched, and began walking towards the forest. It wasn’t long before he disappeared into the forest, becoming nothing more than another black spot in the night.