The Guild of Assassins (7 page)

Kara woke up at dawn. At first she couldn’t remember where she was. It was a strange feeling – one she hadn’t experienced for years – of waking up from a sleep so deep that it took her a few moments to gather her thoughts.

She was lying naked on a sleeping cot, wrapped in a long, silky cloak down to her toes. Its cloth was black, and at first it didn’t seem familiar. Then she caught the smell, a barely perceptible scent of mountain pine. Her heart raced as she inhaled it.

She sat up and looked around. The camp was empty, but a thin wisp of smoke rose from the firepit, suggesting that somebody had already spent effort to start a fire. Her clothes were folded in a neat pile next to her head. She grabbed them and pulled the cloak tighter around herself.

A movement from the direction of the brook caught her eye. As she watched, Mai emerged from behind the thin line of bushes looking neat and elegant, quite undisturbed, except for damp hair and a slightly drawn face. He returned her gaze with an air of guarded silence, as if waiting for her to make the first move. They were silent for a moment, looking at each other.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” she said.

A smile slid through his lips, but his eyes remained in shadow. She had a feeling he expected her to say something else, but he had already moved away and busied himself with the fire.

She got up, careful to keep the cloak tight around herself, and walked over to the brook. Finding a deeper pond of water, she took time to wash herself, submerging into the cool, transparent pool to soak off the dreamy feeling of last night. She felt strange. She still wasn’t sure what had driven her to behave the way she had, but it was hard to let go of the memory. She could easily lose herself in it if she allowed her thoughts to flow.

She cut them off. Stepping out of the water, she dried off in the cool morning breeze, then dressed up and walked back to camp.

Mai was sitting across from her, attending to the fire. As she approached, he looked up with the same guarded expression.

She folded up his cloak and put it down over his bedroll, then sat across from him, holding his gaze. He handed her a mug of tea and she took it, unthinkingly sipping the tart, hot liquid, too strong for her taste.

She felt so confused. What happened last night wasn’t supposed to happen, she told herself again and again. Despite how good it felt, it wasn’t meant to be. He was her senior in the Guild, and their training made any bonds all but impossible. What she had with Kyth had been pleasant but wrong, and people had suffered for it. And now–

Mai wasn’t looking at her, but she sensed how alert he was of her every move.

“About last night…” she said.

He looked up. Their gazes locked.

“I– I shouldn’t have…” She paused, unable to go on.

His gaze wavered. “It was my fault. I lost control. Please forgive me.”

She felt a lump in her throat, but ignored it. It wasn’t meant to be. They weren’t meant for this.

“We both lost it,” she said quietly, “didn’t we?”

His gaze was unreadable as he looked up at her. It seemed that he was about to say something, but then fell silent.

“It can’t continue,” she said, her voice sinking to a near whisper. “We both know it mustn’t happen again.”

A shadow stirred in his eyes, a barely perceptible movement that for a moment made him appear vulnerable. His direct gaze made her heart quiver. Then he sat back, subsiding into calmness.

“I toasted bread,” he said. “Why don’t you have some?”

She took a warm crispy piece from him, conscious to keep clear of his hand. She wasn’t sure she could handle it if she touched him. And, she couldn’t afford to lose her mind again. They were headed toward certain death, all because of her. All because of her inability to control herself before.

They ate in silence, the calmness around him almost palpable, like an invisible armor. His gaze slid over her with outward indifference, but she still sensed the intensity inside.

“I feel I must ask you the same question again,” he said. “Is there anything I can do that would convince you
not
to come with me?”

She met his gaze. “My answer’s still the same. The only thing you can do is to show me the Guildmaster’s letter to
prove
your return to the Guild has nothing to do with me.”

He reached into his pack and took out the folded parchment. Keeping his eyes on her, he threw it into the fire.

She gasped and rushed forward, but before she could even take a step, his staff was in his hand, pointing her way. He slid a hand over it and a blade sprung out toward her, its steel point hovering near her throat.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he kept her gaze. She swallowed, glancing down at the blade that almost touched her skin. Seeing it this way brought back bad memories. Last time, when he defeated her and made everyone believe she was dead, his blade hit her at exactly the same point, between the collarbones.
Viper’s kiss.
She suppressed a shiver. “Viper” was the name of Mai’s token rune in the Majat Guild. He had invented that blow. And now, when she learned what his real kisses were like, she was having too much trouble dealing with it.

This is madness. Stop it. Focus.
She glanced at the parchment. The fire turned it over, licking the crumpling surface with long red tongues. The sharp letters of the Guildmaster’s handwriting melted away in front of her eyes, slowly consumed by the flame.

She didn’t want to fight Mai again. Not with real blades. But even if she fought him now, she would never make it in time before the letter burned.

She met his gaze.

“If you can’t even let me see it,” she said quietly, “I must assume the worst.”

He threw a side glance into the fire and withdrew his staff, flicking the blades back into their sheaths. A distant smile creased his lips.

“You can assume whatever you want, Aghat,” he said. “But I suggest you leave it be. It’s really not worth it.”

“If it wasn’t worth it, there would’ve been no harm in me seeing it, would there?”

He grinned. “Perhaps not. But then, we would have missed all the drama. Wouldn’t that be a pity?”

The drama.
She felt a blush rise into her cheeks as she remembered last night.

“At least,” she said, “you can now stop questioning me about staying behind.”

His eyes showed regret.

“If we assume, for argument’s sake, that they are really going to kill me,” he said, “there’s nothing you could do by siding with me against out entire Guild. If you come with me, you’ll die. It will be a waste.”

“That bad, eh?”

He didn’t respond.

She stepped forward and paused just short of reaching him. His closeness was dizzying, but she forced herself to distance from it, looking into his eyes.

“I’ll stay behind,” she said, “if you do.”

He went very still. “You know I can’t. If I do, both of us will have to run forever.”

“You are doing it for me, aren’t you?”

He smiled. “Honestly. It concerns me too, doesn’t it?”

“But it all happened because of me in the first place.”

His brief glance stirred with a gentleness that made her heart quiver. “It happened because you chose to do the right thing. So did I. We both made our choices. I wish you’d stop feeling as if it’s all your fault.”

“And you expect me to stay behind?”

“I don’t believe you can help by coming with me.”

She lifted her chin. “You underestimate me, Aghat Mai. Don’t you?”

He softened, a wave of warmth washing over her as she met his gaze, caressing like a touch of summer wind.

“I know exactly what you’re worth,” he said. “That’s why I will do anything in my power to stop you from coming.”

She smiled, feeling lightheaded from his closeness, from the way he looked at her.

“There isn’t much you can do to stop me,” she said. “Is there?”

He held her gaze, the smile suddenly gone.

“Of all the bad things I can imagine happening to me at the Guild,” he said, “watching you being killed stands pretty high on the list. In fact, I don’t think I can imagine anything worse. And, as we both know, it’s quite likely to happen if you insist on coming.”

“How about getting killed yourself?”

He shrugged. “Comparatively speaking, that possibility doesn’t bother me at all.”

“It bothers
me
.” As she said it, she realized with surprise how deeply she meant it. It was unthinkable to imagine that he would die, because of her. “And I intend to prevent it from happening.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but his eyes were in shadow. “You’ll be risking your life against very heavy odds. I’m not worth it.”

“As you once said to me,” she said quietly, “this is my call to make. Not yours.”

After they fitted the cracked shoe to the hoof of Mai’s horse, the ride to Middledale was uneventful, even if much slower than normal. With no more need to hide his tracks, Mai agreed to return to the main road. They rode quietly side by side, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the fresh mountain wind, fragrant with the smells of aemrock, pine, and ice from the distant snow caps.

It felt so easy to ride next to Mai. His horse obeyed him without any visible signals, matching Kara’s speed down to a single beat. He sat relaxed in the saddle, emanating calmness – a special technique of stilling the mind that helped so much to restore upheaved balance. Kara knew she should do it too. Yet, she couldn’t resist riding on her emotions for just a bit longer. In a week or so she was likely going to die. Could there be so much harm in enjoying her feelings just a touch more than appropriate?

In all her life, she had never imagined being close to a man. All her training had been directed against it, teaching her to channel her emotions, to project an aura that warned men from getting close. Kyth’s innocence had originally cut through this shield, catching her by surprise. He was the only man she had ever met who saw a beautiful woman where everyone else saw a deadly fighter, and his admiration had swept her away into his fairytale world, where her training did not matter and where she could think of herself simply as a woman. With Kyth, she had been living somebody else’s life – one, she now realized, she would never be able to fully fit into.

It was so different with Mai. He knew exactly what she was, and he shared her training down to the last detail. He never saw her for anything else. With him, she could fully be herself. And yet, it was hard to understand how all their training, all the ruthlessness they both were capable of, could go hand in hand with the tender passion of the previous night.

Better not to think of it too much, she finally decided as she, too, subsided into her trained aura of calmness. What happened between them was no more than a fighting incident, and she should never think of it any other way. Top ranked Majat were trained to channel their sexual energy into their combat skill. Both she and Mai had learned it well, that was all. And if they took it a little bit too far this time, no harm done.

By the early evening, wisps of smoke up ahead signaled their approach to Middledale. Kara narrowed her eyes, peering into the domed roofs drowning in the greenery. The gusts of wind carried a mild smell of sulfur. The town was built on hot springs, providing luxurious accommodations and rooms with private baths, drawing tourists from all over the kingdom.

She knew that no blacksmith could shoe Mai’s horse until morning, which gave them an opportunity to spend the night in the local inn. After days of camping in the wilderness, she couldn’t help but look forward to it.

The streets of Middledale were so crowded that Kara and Mai were forced to dismount and lead their horses, pushing through the thick throngs. Garlands of colored lanterns floated overhead, and here and there they could hear the popping of firecrackers exploding into the night sky.

“The Lantern Festival,” Kara said above the noise. “I forgot all about it. Today should be the last day, I believe.”

Mai only nodded as he pushed his way to the inn, a large multi-domed building enfolded in sulfur-smelling fumes, its walls and roof richly covered by lichen.

A harassed-looking stable boy took their horses and led them into a side stall. Mai stayed behind to ensure the horses were well cared for and Kara went ahead to make arrangements for the night.

Warm fog enfolded her as she stepped into the inn’s common room. She paused, letting her senses adjust. She had never seen this inn so full. In the flickering light of lanterns hanging overhead she could see row after row of occupied tables, people laughing and talking. The festive mood showed in the ringing timbre of the elevated voices, in the rich colors of clothing, in the fumes of the best ales and meads floating in the air.

A large basin of bubbling water dominated the center of the room, the biggest hot spring that fed most of the baths in the inn and ensured that its patrons needed no other heat source even on very cold days. It felt good to feel the warmth on her face after the biting chill of the breeze outside; she didn’t even mind the humidity that clung to her skin in a mist of tiny droplets and made her hair curl against the side of her cheek. She tucked it behind her ear as she pushed her way to the counter.

The innkeeper, a slim man with pale eyes and a large damp towel hanging over his shoulder, paused as he saw her approach. His eyes widened as he recognized her.

“Mistress Kara?” The man licked his lips nervously and twitched the corner of his towel.

The Majat Guild paid many inns throughout the kingdom to ensure their Guild members received the necessary support on their assignments. She knew she could expect a warm welcome.

She smiled. “Hello, Master Olren.”

He bowed, looking at her with awe. She was used to it from those who knew about her ranking and had at least some understanding of the Majat Guild. Last time she was here she was still an active member of the Guild. She felt a pang of regret at the thought and forced it away.

“My companion and I will need two rooms for the night, next to each other, if possible.” She couldn’t risk getting separated from Mai. If they stayed close together, she could at least keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t slip away. Of course, he had given his word. Besides, his horse was in no shape to continue until a local blacksmith could attend to it. Still, it didn’t hurt to be careful.

The innkeeper used the corner of his towel to wipe his damp forehead. His face wore an unsettled expression.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” he stumbled. “Today’s the last day of the festival. All our rooms are full. Unless...” He paused, looking past her shoulder. She turned to see Mai walking toward them.

“Unless what?”

Master Olren briefly lowered his eyes. “Um, I was going to offer you one last option. It’s a two-room suite with a separate bath chamber. We had a last minute cancellation, and it is far too expensive for our regular patrons. Nothing for you to worry about, of course. But...”

“But what?”

“I... um... I didn’t realize your companion was a man.”

Kara shot a quick glance at Mai. A two-room suite with a separate bath might work out even better. After camping together in the wilderness they could hardly be bothered by the lack of privacy. Besides, the suite still gave them two rooms to sleep in, but in addition it also made it much easier for her to keep an eye on him. In fact, if she took the outer chamber between him and the door, she could sleep soundly, in the certainty that he would never be able to sneak out without her knowledge.

“A suite would be fine,” she said, sliding a questioning glance over at Mai and receiving a nod in response.

“I– I only have one key,” Master Olren stammered.

“That’s quite enough, thank you.” She reached over and took the key before Mai could grab it, putting it in her pocket.

“Room eighteen at the end of the west corridor,” Master Olren said. “I hope you will be comfortable there. The maids will prepare it while you are having dinner.” He gestured to a table by the wall and waved to the serving girl, who rushed over with a tray containing a pitcher of brew, a half-loaf of bread, mugs, and steaming bowls of stew.