Chapter Two

Krinna ran up the stairs to the second-floor meeting hall. She smiled. She thought about Gorga eating watermelon as she opened the exterior door. The heavy smack from a giant fist knocked the smile from her face and slammed her head against the wooden wall. Half-conscious, she bounced off and fell to the floor.

Someone kicked her ribs. She felt them break. Feet kicked her from every direction. How many fists beat her face? She lost count.

Through blurred vision, she made out dim faces. A slap jerked her head. She thought it broke her neck. A man, a member of the Brotherhood, grabbed her hair, yanked it down behind her back, and pulled her head back, forcing her mouth open. Warm liquid poured into her mouth, over her face, and down her chest.

“Now, Krinna, the next time we send you on a job, finish it. Our client is very unhappy with us. Our superiors are angry. We stand to lose our profit. Two members were exterminated because you didn’t follow the rules. You don’t get paid. I’m letting you off easy. The next time, I’ll brand your forehead. Alright, untie her and dump her at her place.”

She thought she heard a touch of compassion in his voice. Her head rocked from the slap. Fighting to maintain consciousness, she decided she was mistaken.

###

He stood in the brush south of the house. Six ominously silent riders rode out of the gloomy night. They dragged something on a rope as they rode past. They left it in the roadway in front of Krinna’s house, turned, and leisurely walked their horses back to town. After completing their task, rancorous talk and laughter filled the damp night air.

Gorga, slow them down. I’ll see what they threw away.

I’ll stop their horses. They can walk back to town.

He ran to the object lying in the dirt. A female body covered in dirty, bloodied, torn clothing lay crumpled in a heap. Gingerly, he rolled her over.

“Krinna, if you can hear me, squeeze my fingers,” he said. She applied light pressure to his hand. “Lie still for a while. I’ll come back for you.”

Gorga, I want them alive. Save me one horse, he said, and ran south.

Their horses are down. They are afraid of the blackness.

I bet they are. He thought, following the riders. He heard two men whispering in the dark.

“It is a viper. I tell you, if you stand still, they can’t see you,” one said.

“Idiot,” the other replied, “they don’t see at all. They hear noise, so shut up. Well, say something.” Something struck his head. He vaguely remembered his face hitting a rock.

One by one, he picked them off and tied their hands and feet behind their backs. He threw their unconscious bodies into a heap and asked Gorga to rest with them. He ran back to Krinna’s still form, gently lifted her in his arms, and carried her into the house. Lying her on the bedroom floor, he went to the kitchen and built a fire in the stove. He put on two pots of water to heat and returned to Krinna.

He searched the house for soap and clean rags. He found them in a small closet with an extra blanket and nightgown. He took them to the kitchen and retrieved one large pan of water. He took everything to the bedroom and placed it beside her.

Cutting her torn, bloody, filthy clothes off, he washed dirt and caked blood from the front of her body. She moaned when he cleaned her ribs. Extra time was spent cleaning around her eyes and smashed lips. He raised her black, puffy lips and checked her teeth.

Hours passed before he removed all the cactus needles and wood splinters from her front and sides. He pulled a bottle from his pack, uncorked it, and poured a thin line of fragrant syrup on her. He rubbed it onto her from head to toe. Rolling her onto her stomach, he performed the same chore. After bandaging her ribs, he turned and lifted her to a sitting position. He slipped the gown over her head and inserted her arms into its sleeves. He gently picked her up and placed her on the bed.

The sun peeked over the horizon as he stepped outside. It was a glorious day. Indeed, it would lift his spirit while he accomplished the task before him. He took his time to enjoy the scenery. Although sparse, the trees emitted a pleasing jasmine fragrance. The flower color variation was similar to that in his kingdom. Bees and insects zipped from flower to flower while butterflies bounced on flitting wings. It presented a perfect pastoral scene except for the furrow of crushed flowers and overturned rocks leading to the roadway.

A noisy Blue Jay loudly tormented his vociferous, detained guests before he walked into the grassy meadow. Their hushed voices reeked with fear. He strolled past them and went to the horse. Rubbing it behind the ears, he spoke softly to it. He took special note of the needles in its legs and the bloody spur wounds on its flanks.

“I suggest you release us,” a snarling mound of flesh said with a veiled threat. “It is obvious you don’t know who we are or the consequences of your actions.”

The horse nuzzled him and laid its head on his shoulder. He caressed it on the right side of the neck.

“Are you deaf, you idiot? Untie us now, or I will make your life miserable,” the fat one yelled.

“You are a handsome animal. Is the fat blob your nasty, old master?” The horse’s head moved up and down as it rolled its eyes at the mound of flesh. “If you assist me today, I’ll set you free. He won’t spur you or ride you through cacti anymore.”

“I’m going to kill you. I’m going to brand you so everyone will know my handiwork. Cut me loose!”

“Maybe you should be quiet,” a skinny man interjected. “If he is deaf, shouting at him won’t improve our situation. We need to remain calm and take his weapons away from him.”

“Idiot, he doesn’t have any weapons! Remain calm? Are you stupid? My legs and hands are numb. I can’t feel my fingers. Let me go, you deaf moron! By the dung witches of Spellfire, I will kill you.”

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“Does he always talk this way to you?” he asked the horse. The head bobbed up and down again. “I guess we need to stop it.”

He took a bloody rope from the saddle, went to Blob, and untied his feet. They fell to the ground. Braggadocio Blob screamed, “You fool! My legs are numb.” Slipping the rope under and over his bound hands, he tied it off. He seated himself on the grass and gazed into Blob’s eyes. Fat Blob sat up.

“Have I given you a reason to yell at me and call me names? I’m not deaf. I need to ask you a question.”

“I don’t answer questions from swine.”

“I will only ask you once.” He held up a finger to stop a retort. “I expect your full cooperation. Are you ready?” he asked, the fat, bloated, smiling face with huge white teeth. “Now, listen carefully. Why did you hurt, Krinna?”

Smiling, Bold Blob turned and spoke to the others. “Silence is the best weapon against fools.” He directed his attention to the alien and said, “I speak for all of us. We don’t answer questions. We get information. What is your name, you incompetent fool?” He laughed at the man and spat in his face.

He stood slowly to his feet and said, “My name is Watermelon.” Without warning, he carefully but forcefully placed the sole of his right shoe under Bullying Blob’s chin. Breaking bones greeted the silence as his jaw bones went askew, and his bloody teeth flew out of his mouth. Unconscious, Blustering Blob pitched backward and leaked life-sustaining blood onto the soft, velvety grass.

The others watched in horror as the stranger removed a long, thin dirk from his inner garment. He cut off the unconscious Blob’s boots and clothes from his body. They turned their heads from his shame. He was their guild god’s appointed leader.

He tossed the rope over a low, thick tree limb, carried it to the horse, and mounted. He put it to a gallop. Backward Blob flew up and over the rigid limb. Again, breaking bones broke the deadly silence. His blood-curdling scream stopped when he hit the ground. Silent Blob quietly bounced and rolled out of the clearing as his body chased the horse.

Anxiously, they exchanged looks. “This doesn’t bode well for us,” one said.

“Remember our creed. If we break it, the guild is finished. We are one! Say it!” he snapped.

Half heartily, the others repeated his false encouraging words. Furtive looks passed between them.

“We can’t lie here like dumb sheep for the slaughter and wait for his return. Roll over near someone and see if we can loosen our bonds. Mar, untie me first,” the speaker said and rolled his back to him.

With a malicious grin, Mar said, “Why don’t you untie me first? My fingers are numb. I can’t feel them.”

“Use your teeth, you idiot. Get to it before he comes back."

“Maybe he won’t come back. Dab spit in his face. Perhaps, if we speak kindly to him, then he may release us.”

“How did you become an assassin? Who sponsored you into the brotherhood?”

“A moron named Face did it.”

“You called me a moron. It’s against the code. I’ll have you punished.”

“You may want to hurry. Our friend is returning. Let’s see, I believe you are next in command. Think fast, and good luck.”

“It looks like Dab had too much watermelon,” another interjected.

They looked at him in disbelief. Mar couldn’t help it. He laughed heartily.

The rider stopped under the tree as Battered Blob’s torn, mutilated body continued to roll from the momentum and stopped near their heads. They recognized the fat but not the man. Bruises, bleeding cuts, and scrapes covered him. Large, broken three and four-inch thorns protruded from a field of cactus needles. His arms lay in an unnatural position over his head.

He dismounted and untied the recipient of his good pleasure. He walked to Face and cut his feet loose. They thumped to the soft grass. He winched.

The stranger sat down and leaned against a tree trunk. Quietly, he contemplated the five men. Nothing moved in the small glen. Unable to bear the silence, Face shifted his position and sat up. Stomping his heels on the tender, verdant grass, he felt the tingling sensation of blood returning to his legs and feet. Why did he pick me? How did he know I was next in rank?

Cautiously, he glanced at their captor. He thought he slept with his eyes open. They didn’t blink as he stared up into the tree.

“I don’t know your name. I see what you did to Dab. You’ve done your job well. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of you. I don’t want to die,” Mar said.

“You can kill all of us, but we won’t divulge information to you,” Face interjected. “You can kill our families, and we shall remain silent. We are one. Say it!” he snarled at the others. He dropped his eyes and turned away to avoid their defiant, defeated, penetrating stares.

“I never thought of that. Thank you for presenting such a marvelous idea,” the stranger said softly as he continued to look up into the tree. “It solves the dilemma we have.”

“What do you mean?”

“I shall kill your families.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“You suggested it,” he said, looking Face in the eyes. “Isn’t it the way you would do it?”

“I don’t know what you mean. We are all well-known, respected businessmen. The city folks look up to and adore us.”

“I mean, I can kill your families at home or bring them here so you can encourage them to die well.”

“You don’t mean that. It is inhumane. How can you sit there and smugly declare you will kill their children?” Face said, nodding his head at the others, “And live with yourself? Their precious children are innocent of any crime or sin.”

He nodded in agreement and said, “You present a valid argument. Logically, I must agree with you. I’ll only kill your family.”

“I don’t possess a wife or kids.”

“You lying, dirt-crawling, egg-sucking snake …” Mar stopped speaking when the traveler held up his hand.

“Don’t compare him to my friend. Now, you may continue.”

“You don’t care if our loved ones die as long as he doesn’t harm yours.”

“Shut up, Mar! You speak out of turn.”

The hand went up again. They stopped arguing.

“I want to know why you hurt Krinna?”

“I’ll tell you if you promise not to kill our families,” Mar said.

“Mar, I’ll kill you and your family if you talk. I’ll kill your cow, dog, chickens, and horse.”

“My horse died last night. I want my family to live. You won’t be able to kill anything,” he said with a weak smile.

“Why do you say that?”

“He is an assassin.”

Face turned white. “Is it true?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Why do you speak ill of me? I’m a weary, traveling pilgrim who has chosen to right a wrong to help a new friend. Please continue,” he said, addressing Mar.

“Krinna is one of us. She is the youngest and only female who has ever qualified for any kingdom guild. She is a perfectionist in her trade.”

“Yesterday, Dab, what’s left of him lying over there, gave Krinna, Abo, and the Snake Master the chore of killing you. The viper’s master carried it south from the northern kingdom.”

“Our contract originated from the guild in their capital city. They didn’t reveal their client.”

“Someone wants you dead. I don’t know why. We do the job. Krinna’s two companions died in the marketplace. She didn’t stay with them. She should have eliminated their killer or died with them. She hob-knobbed with you and betrayed them.”

“Dab thought she was enamored with you. He couldn’t risk an information leak, so he punished her. He didn’t want her dead. She is a valuable asset to our guild. Why are you so concerned with her?”

“We ate together.”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“Krinna and I ate a melon with a mutual friend.”

“Our lookout saw only the two of you.”

“I have friends in low places. We ate together. She is my friend.”

“People eat together all the time. I’ve eaten with dozens of marks and watched them die across the table from me.”

“Where I hail from, people who dine with us are our friends. We never betray them.”

“You don’t get it, do you? Next to the “Myth,” she is the deadliest assassin in all the guilds. She emulates him. She has marked you. You are a dead man.”

"She is a friend. You harmed her. You have put me in a delicate situation. Now, I must interrupt my journey and rectify it.”

He stood and walked to the horse. He unbuckled the saddle and dropped it to the ground. He threw the bridle away. He rubbed his hands gently over its muzzle and said, “Now, you are free. Go to the wilds and stay away from men. Go now.”

It whinnied, kicked its hind legs high, and ran from their presence at a gallop.

“Are you going to spare our families?”

“Yes.”

“Then I am ready.”

“I commend your courage. We could have been friends. It will be swift.”

Mar died before he recognized the serpent’s bite.