Assassin's Wounds

I confess, we have not been getting out socially much recently. If you have been wondering where I have been, the answer is in Quindar. Where is Quindar, you ask? It is east of Amarat and west of Mienar, a small nation nestled between two mountain ranges on the continent of Aenara. It is completely fictional, but don't tell me that.

While I wrote a reasonable amount in my youth, I have recently finished, for the first time, a full length novel. Here are the first two chapters. If you would like to read more, just let me know and I will send you the rest.

Assassin's Wounds

Chapter 1

Katan shrugged, feeling that imagined little prick between his shoulder blades. He was not going to like this assignment. He usually did not. For being the most dangerous man in the kingdom, or perhaps the continent, he rather incongruously did not like killing people. Fighting was alright, but the actual taking of lives still did not settle well with him. Unfortunately, it was his job.

You don't have to like it. You just have to do it, he told himself.

"It's just something that has to be done, and we're the best ones to do it," Talon had said, when Katan had been feeling weak-kneed after his first kill. Katan had not been the best one to do it at the time, but he was now.

His twin brother Zaric arched a voluble eyebrow at him. They did not use words often. They did not need to. They had always been close growing up, and five solid years of intense training and working together had perfected the bond.

Katan gave a curt nod and finished lacing on his bracers. Then he began to don his weapons. Bow. Quiver. Broadsword. Spear. Flail. Axe. Six additional knives tucked into various places about his person. Not that he would be using any of them on this assignment.

He straightened and adjusted the leather straps holding the weapons in place that criss-crossed his bare, well-muscled chest. They always took away their shirts for assignments like these. They had never gotten an undercover mission, of course. Their green-and-gold swirled skin was mentioned with every whispered story about them and their lethal work. They were usually reserved for shows of force, intimidation, and ceremonies. Or when there was just an unfathomable amount of killing to be done and it did not matter if the world knew it was the Quindar High Guard that sanctioned the deaths. Even if stories about them had not traveled this far into Amarat, their presence today and their exotic skin would put everyone on edge. Emotionally at first. Then literally.

He slipped the necklace with the small snuffbox over his head and tied his blonde dreadlocks with a leather headband across his forehead. He shrugged again to adjust the weapons more comfortably, and turned to Zaric.

Ready? he asked with a look.

Zaric nodded. They met their teammate in the stable yard and began their ride towards death. Albeit other people's deaths, if all went as planned.

They entered Amarai within the hour, but it took nearly as long for their steeds to climb through the streets to the imperial palace. It covered the apex of the hill rising out of the Amarat plain, smooth white and blue towers peaking in graceful spires. The heart of the Blue Empire.

As they approached, they inhaled the dried and crushed lichens in their snuffboxes and their bodies began to change. For both of them, the vigor and life of the Everbreath filled their chests, enhancing their lungs and increasing their endurance. They were both Menders, as well, but until they were hurt, there would not be much evidence of that. Zaric's skin began to thicken and harden, thanks to him being a Leather Skin. His saliva became a little more viscous as the paralytic venom began to form. A Cobra, too.

For Katan, the world began to slow. He embraced the slowness, the calm, matching his movements to Zaric's pace. He was a Flash. The world, of course, was still going along at the same rate it always did. His body was just going twice as fast. Sometimes he felt as though the ground did not pull him down so hard when he was dosed with acceleren. It was an illusion, of course.  Flashes could not fly. But they could jump really far. He slowed his breathing. That had become easier with the respiren that made him an Everbreath. Speaking was still the most challenging part of masking the acceleren, but he did not think he would have to talk on this assignment. Other people talked. Katan killed.

Twelve minutes later--though it felt like twenty-four to Katan--Zaric's skin finished hardening into a full, thick hide that would protect him from all but the sharpest and most direct hits. Needless to say, he usually made it out of these assignments a lot better than Katan did.

They passed through the gates and dismounted, servants scurrying forward and taking their horses from them. A pompous steward in blue robes—they were obsessed with the color—led them through the ornately decorated halls to the Imperial Court. Katan and Zaric fell to either side and just behind their brown-haired companion.

The Emperor had called a Council of the Kings. He did, from time to time. Attendance was obligatory. They were usually purely bureaucratic affairs. New policies. Sometimes just as a reminder that they were subject to the Blue Empire and ruled their lands only by the Emperor's grace.

Tace's reconnaissance had collected other reasons for today's Council. The Emperor had one purpose. A purpose Katan and Zaric were to foil and turn on its head.

They were stopped at the grand double doors by one of the Emperor's Blue Watch.

"No weapons," he said gruffly.

Their companion arched an icy eyebrow. "I'm only allowed two attendants and you want them to be unarmed? Bodyguards are usually more effective with weapons than without." His tone exuded superiority. He was not bad.

"The Watch will protect you," the man said flatly.

Katan feigned reluctance and began to throw down the weapons he had just donned. They had expected this. They only carried that many when they wanted to make a show of putting them down, anyway. From the corner of his eye, he saw Zaric laying down his weapons in the same manner.

Katan straightened as if done. The Watch frowned and pulled a dagger out of his boot and looked very disapproving. He stood a good six inches taller than Katan, though at five foot seven, most men topped him by at least a few.

Sighing, Katan removed the other five hidden blades. He had not expected get in with them. They were too small to do much good, anyway.

Kill them, he had said. Kill them all, if necessary. With no weapons.

Thanks, Riso.

They moved to enter. The Watch had only made their teammate remove his sword and otherwise left him alone. Good.

A spear descended, barring their way.

"No lichens," the man grunted.

Rolling their eyes in exasperation, Katan and Zaric removed the leather thong holding their snuffboxes on their chests and tossed it down on the considerable pile of steel. The Watch gestured to their pouches, which normally would have contained their refill lichen. They added them to the stack. They would not have taken the lichen in those pouches for any price. Being green-and-gold was bad enough. Those lichens would have made them turn purple and grow fur.

One advantage to their unusual coloring was that most people could not tell at a glance that Zaric was already armored with his Leather Skin. Use what you have, the High Guards said. Katan's practice in slowing his movements and breath paid off in situations like this. He had forgone adding his Flash Daggers to the array of weapons so as to not arouse suspicion to his being a Flash. Unless the Watch actually felt his pulse, he would not be able to tell that Katan was already dosed on acceleren. Kalvor had been right about it being important to master moving in slow motion. But then, his tutor had rarely been wrong.

Katan began to sink himself mentally into the calm waters of his imagined pool. The waters, the world, swirled around him as his awareness of his surroundings increased. Simultaneously, he felt his emotions and irrelevant distractions becoming distant, relegated to the surface of the cool, smooth waters, isolating him from their influence.

The double doors swung open and the three strode in. Katan slowly swept the room with his eyes, assessing. It was grand, with an impossibly high vaulted ceiling, the walls and floor made out of the same smooth white marble he had seen elsewhere in the palace. Stained glass windows were set high in the walls, with scenes of the Blue Empire's greatest conquests depicted in shades of blue. A rich blue carpet formed an aisle down the center. At the end of the aisle, the Emperor sat on his gilded throne on a stepped dais.

There were probably fifty blue-armored Watch lining the aisle, and all of them would be Lichened or the more powerful Enlichened. The Blue Watch was the Empire's attempt to replicate Quindar's very effective High Guard. They stood at attention, spears held at the same precise angle. Katan did not change his expression, but mentally he nodded. He could work with spears.

Gathered near the dais were another twenty-odd men. Katan picked out the other five kings liege to the Empire, each shadowed by their two attendants. The others would be the Emperor's advisors and more powerful nobles of Amarat, except for the one standing right behind and to the left of the throne. That would be the heir to the imperial throne, Katan thought.

Almost all of them would certainly be Clearheads like the Emperor. Most men without lichenic abilities could not match Enlichened Clearheads for strategy and political maneuvering, so most leaders were those who reacted to the lichen that granted crisp mental clarity by default.

"You are late, King Talamor," a cold voice said as the three made deep bows.

It was not the Emperor, but his Voice. The Emperor was above speaking to lowly kings. He communicated through a man with long, thin black hair, resplendent in cobalt blue robes, standing to the other side of the throne from the heir.

Katan heard the loud ka-chunk of bars being placed across the closed doors, then a muffled echo of the same noise as they fell on the other side. He had not been to a Council of Kings before, but he did not think it would be usual to barricade the doors. Confirmation that Tace's intelligence was accurate, then. It did not make sense, unless you had reason to keep someone from escaping.

Their companion, of course, was not King Talamor. Craddic had been chosen out of the army because of his resemblance to the king. Well, they had the same body build and coloring, anyway, and the Hiram the Jack had helped perfect the disguise. It would be enough, they hoped. The fact that Craddic was also a Cobra was just the wind's luck, but they would use that anyway.

"May the winds bless you, your Grace," Craddic intoned formally. "I apologize for our delay. The rivers were flooded with melted snow and difficult to cross. I left the rest of my retinue behind so as to press on faster." Craddic replied. A lie, of course. There had not been a retinue, and they had timed their entrance so that they would be the last to arrive intentionally. Too much time waiting for others to arrive and someone might have noticed that 'King Talamor' had a somewhat different nose from last year.

The three moved to take their place with the other kings and attendants.

The Voice sniffed skeptically and spoke to project his voice to the entire hall. "The Council of Kings has gathered in full. The Emperor's will be done," the man formally spoke the ceremonial lines."You have been summoned to the Imperial Court to hear the will of the Emperor and do his bidding."

He left a silent pause before continuing.

"King Talamor of Quindar, please step forward," the Voice intoned.

Craddic stepped back into the center of the aisle. Katan and Zaric tensed but held their positions. They had to trust Riso's plan.

"On behalf of the Emperor, I accuse you of denying the Blue Empire its due and withholding information regarding lichenic powers that the Empire needs to protect this land. Furthermore, I charge you with plotting rebellion against the Imperial Throne and betraying your crown's oath to fealty to the Blue Emperor. Do you deny these charges?"

"I do not," Craddic's voice was firm and clear.

Whispers rose from the assembled.

"The Emperor is merciful," the Voice continued, "and wishes to offer you one final chance to recant your position, reaffirm your oaths, and turn over the discoveries of your Lichademy to the Blue Empire. Will you accept this opportunity?"

"I will not," Craddic said loudly.

"By imperial law, the Emperor condemns you to immediate execution, and the throne of Quindar is abdicated to direct imperial rule," the Voice's tone had a ring of triumph.

Craddic charged, yanking at his waistcoat and spitting in the Emperor's cold blue eye as he threw himself at the dais.

That was their cue.

Chapter 2

Katan whirled around, shedding the steady slowness that he had embraced for the speed of a Flash with years of harsh training. He snatched a spear from the nearest guard and stabbed the man in the gut with it, then felled each man on either side of him with the same fast thrusts. They were dead before he could even identify their lichenic abilities.

Finally, the Watch began to respond. Katan used the shaft to block and whipped it around to sink the head into the man's neck, spinning in the same motion to take on another Watch coming from the other side. In slow motion, the Watch surged forward towards him. He gave ground until he was fighting back-to-back with Zaric. They were most effective like this.

A motion in his peripheral vision warned him of an attack from just over his left shoulder. He lashed out with a spinning kick, curling his toes to unsheathe the four-inch claws on his foot. Most lichens were relatively temporary in their effect, but some left permenant changes, like the one that had turned their skin green-and-gold or the one that had given them the retractable claws he and Zaric both had. His boots had been specially designed to accommodate them, of course, the holes for the claws masterfully hidden by the decorative tooling on the leather.

The claws caught the man's blue leather breastplate and seared through it and the flesh beneath. As he spun away, Katan noticed the man's long, cat-like tail swinging as he tried to use it to try to regain his balance. A Dancer, then.

He spun, dodging a Cobra spit, and cut down two more with his spear. It was all mechanical, instinctive, intuitive. He saw a sudden movement to this right. A blue-armored man moving at a normal speed, dodging all the other sluggish figures. 

Katan smiled in spite of himself. A Flash. Now things would get interesting.

Zaric had not taken down as many Watch as Katan, but more than half his brother's number. Granted, some of them were only paralyzed by his venom, but collapsed on the floor they were likely to become collateral damage in the melee as men and weapons fell around them.

Zaric switched the spear to his left hand and scooped up a sword one of the fallen Watch had dropped. He liked swords. Using the spear shaft in his left to knock aside attacks and parry his attacker's weapons, he jabbed and swung with the blade. Not as good as his own favorite back in Quindar, of course, but not all bad. It had decent weight and balance to it.

He fought with gusto. He had none of his brother's compunctions against killing. Some men needed to die, and he was well suited to kill them. It was what he did best. These men had planned to betray and assassinate his king today. They deserved to die, and he was happy to oblige.

A spear glanced off the hide on his left bicep, barely scratching him. He used the opening his opponent left in the attack to drive his sword through the seam in the side of the man's armor.

A blue blur streaked towards them. He was glad. Katan preferred challenging opponents when he did have to fight, so maybe he would be happy now. Zaric was one of the few non-Flashes in the High Guard who could take down enemies on acceleren, mostly due to his constant training with Katan. But they were still tricky, and he preferred to leave them to his brother. It was a mutually satisfactory arrangement, the same way he took care of Cobras.

Katan dodged and the gleaming Flash Dagger sailed past his ear and buried itself halfway to the hilt in the wall opposite the Watch Flash. Some people called them Kalvors, after the man who had made them famous as the Flash's preferred weapon. His tutor's mark on the Enlichened world apparently reached even this far from Quindar.

Disappointment rippled across the surface of his mental pool of water as he engaged the man. The Flash was not well trained. Given the innate advantage of being able to move twice as quickly, a lot of them did neglect to actually learn decent technique. Katan took advantage of a blatant mistake and lashed out with his hand claws towards the man's neck.

The Flash turned and darted in with his Kalvor, catching Katan's forearm on the leather bracer. It gouged through the material and into Katan's skin. Katan revised his estimation of the man. Probably a Clearhead as well, trying to fake ill training to lure him in.

He ignored the pain and still caught the man's throat with his claws, though, and stabbed him with the spear before he hit the ground. Katan took down two other Watch approaching before taking a moment to toss the spear aside and relieving the Flash of his Kalvors.

Katan twirled the Flash Daggers in his hands experimentally. There, that was better. Now he was really ready.

Three more fell within seconds. Katan lashed out at a thickset man with a clawed foot, and the man sprawled. In his place was one of the crossbowmen, six feet away. Katan leapt for him.

Katan grunted as the bolt seared straight through his unprotected gut as he flew. He landed on the archer, sinking his blades deep into the man. He whirled around saw a Watch behind him, spear upraised, as he slowly toppled, the bloodied bolt sticking out of his blue-armored chest. He ground his teeth against the pain, forcing the distraction to the surface of the pool, and fought on.

The twins worked their way down the aisle towards the dais. They did not have much more time before Craddic's ploys wore off.

"Can you hit up the Emp again?" Katan yelled over his shoulder as he slashed and darted among the melee of slowly moving limbs around him. Zaric was one of the few people he did not have to slow his voice for. He had learned to understand the quick speech Katan and Kalvor had used together over the years.

Zaric cast a glance towards the dais. The blue Watch had formed a protective wall between the green-and-gold twins and the Emperor, pushing the other kings and their attendants back to either side.

"Don't have a clear shot. Can you get to him?" Zaric yelled back, and spat his venom in another Watch's face, sidestepping the man's attack. The man dropped a few seconds later.

"Going in," Katan replied.

It meant abandoning their advantageous position together, but once they completed their mission they could clear the winds out of there.

Katan cut down two more in his way. The blue leather was not nearly thick enough to stop a razor sharp Kalvor slashing at the high speed Katan put into his swipes. He took a few running steps start, then jumped, making his projection high. He sucked in a breath and sailed over the heads and spears of the wall of Watch.

He rolled the landing and leapt to his feet, taking in the situation.

Lichens could inhaled or eaten, but they also worked smoked. Craddic's clothes were still smoldering where they had placed several of Radric's smokers. The Voice had managed to sink a knife into the Quindaran's leg before all of the Enlichened Clearheads had dropped from the knock-out lichen wafting from the Cobra. It had taken out Craddic, too, of course. Katan did not breathe, lest the lingering fumes affect him. Being an Everbreath had many advantages.

Katan braced himself. This was the worst part. Revulsion stirred the surface of his pool. His normal work was bad enough. But killing men who could not fight back made him feel sick even in his detached mental state. But he did it anyway, precise in his administrations of death. He had made a pledge to the High Guard, and he would uphold it. Riso sent him to assassinate these men, so assassinate them he would. He had no idea if any of these were Menders, and a careless stab on his part might leave a survivor.

The startled wall of Watch was finally turning around. Too slow.

Katan leapt for the gilded throne. To his surprise, the Emperor was wide awake, and struggling faintly to move. The Cobra venom was wearing off, but apparently the Emperor had an inverse reaction to the knock-out lichen, the way Elem had.

"You do not know what you are doing," the Emperor hissed through numb lips. "This land will fall if you destroy the Empire."

Katan drove his Flash Dagger into the man's heart. It met with some resistance going in. A Leather Skin. He had not known that. Oh well. It had not done the man much good. He was just as dead with his thick hide as without. He wrenched the Emperor's signet ring of his right hand and tucked it under his good bracer. Katan stabbed the fallen heir and the last two advisors on the ground on his way to meet the Watches who were stumbling as they hit the smoke. It was dissipating quickly, though. Katan fought.

Two of the Watch worked their way around him and attacked from the back as three rushed him from the front. Sev's training in instinctive, intuitive fighting saved him there, although they did deliver him a few minor wounds. It was about time they started working together, he considered. Somehow the challenge helped make up for massacring unconscious men.

Katan felt a spear graze his bare right side as he dodged the others and instantly lashed out with his Flash Daggers, slitting three throats in one pass. Zaric burst through the remaining Watches, the battle light in his eyes. Katan did this because he had to. Zaric lived for it.

The Watch kept coming. Katan ground his teeth. He would have been happy to leave now that their mission was accomplished. It was the fools' own fault that they were getting in the way of their escape, now. Their Emporer was dead, and fighting was not going to bring him back. The brothers reformed their back-to-back stance and fought on.

The last blue Watch fell.

Wide-eyed kings and their bodyguards lined the walls but made no move to attack.

By now, the Watch outside were beginning to realize something must have gone wrong and were trying to break down the barred doors. Fortunately for the twins, the Amaratans had done a very good job of barricading the entrance.

Wasting no time, Zaric ripped Craddic's fine shirt to hastily bind the knife wound. Then he scooped up the still unconscious Craddic in his arms. Katan wiped the blood off his Kalvors and retrieved their sheaths from the dead Flash, hastily strapping them to his own thighs. He searched for the trapdoor Tace had described, and found it. The Emperor's escape, in case of need. It had not done the Emperor much good, but it would help them.

Katan lit the ready torch and took a moment to tear some fabric from Craddic's decimated shirt to hold to his bleeding gut. The two ran, Katan at a slow jog, Zaric as fast as he could go, slowing only for steep staircases descending into blackness. They were on their own from here; Tace had not been able to figure out where the secret hallway ended. Passages with doors began to branch off, presumably to different rooms that the Emperor had also wanted to be able to disappear from quickly. They passed them, always heading downward. Craddic groaned as the knock-out lichen wore off and the pain in his leg reached his consciousness.

The dark tunnel ended at a locked wooden door.

"This would be easier with Sev or Hiram," Katan muttered. Enlichened Jacks—shortened from Jack of all Trades—could master just about any skill within a day. Most of them learned how to pick locks quite efficiently. Unfortunately, he had not. Instead, he drew his stolen Kalvors, got a running start, and hit the door feet-first at twenty miles an hour. The wooden planks shattered.

Katan rolled through the splintering wreckage and up to his feet, blades ready. It looked like an abandoned cellar. Broken crates and barrels littered the floor. It stank of dead animals.

He gestured for Zaric to come. A rickety staircase lead upwards to another closed door. Katan lead, Flash Daggers still drawn. He broke through the weaker latched door at the top of the stairs with his shoulder.

Katan burst into a bustling inn kitchen. Serving maids screamed, crockery splintered as it was dropped. A lean hawk-faced man in an innkeeper's apron's eyes widened at the intruder. Katan spun the daggers expertly and uttered a low growl. He would not kill if intimidating would get them out of his way.

They scattered like pigeons at a cat.

Zaric followed Katan through the melee and out the inn's backdoor to the stableyard. They burst into the street and kept running. Katan stole two cloaks from passers-by as they went. The victims shouted protest, but they were gone before the city guards could arrive. Ever, they made their way downhill. Out of the city.

At the city gate, they donned the cloaks and slowed. The guards were not stopping people exiting--the alarm had not been raised this far from the palace. They slipped out in the crowd, heads down, faces hidden in the cowls of the cloaks. Craddic was well enough to limp along beside them, leaning on Zaric's arm. Carrying bodies was a good way to get detained.

As soon as they were clear of the gate, Zaric hoisted Craddic onto his back and they began running again.

After twenty miles, they detoured off the Imperial Highway until they reached a cluster of houses large enough a village to boast an inn. They left Craddic with the innkeeper accompanied by ample pay. Backtracking to the Highway, they turned east towards Quindar.

They ran.

Katan moved at what felt like an easy jog next to Zaric's dead run. He checked his wounds. They were already starting to Mend, but he needed to redose. Healichen did not last long in his system. He tore open one of the concealed compartment of lichen in his arm bracer and inhaled it as he went, mentally thanking Radric for inventing the hidden packets. They held enough lichen to keep him going for days.