Chapter Three

He stood in the shadows and watched everyone who passed the front of the guild’s meeting place. Patiently, he waited until dusk. He was rewarded when a darker figure moved in the shadows under the second-floor steps. It dashed up the stairs and entered the building.

Where was his second? From their previous action, he knew they traveled in twos. A ray from the setting sun revealed his position as his shadow moved across the front of the building. The man was a fool or an amateur. Vacating his hiding spot, he raced down a narrow, litter-filled alley and up the back stairs to the second floor. He popped his head above the roof line. The second assassin had his back turned to him. Soundlessly, he went onto the flat roof and hid behind a covered exit from the interior.

The assassin turned suddenly to leave his elevated hiding place. As he passed the enclosure, a firm hand gripped his throat and prevented his outcry as the knife slipped between his ribs.

He pulled the hooded robe from the corpse as it fell to the wooden roof. The garment carried an apprentice logo over the heart. Donning it, he descended from the rooftop and chased the Master down the street. Falling in at the appropriate twenty-foot distance, he followed his new master several hours out of town to the guild temple.

The master assassin spoke to the door guard and entered. Without direction, he expected his apprentice to wait quietly and patiently for his return. He moved close to the sentry, who refused to recognize his presence. He stabbed him through the heart and left his carcass on the porch. He entered the closing portal and saw the master speaking with a sub-priest across the sanctuary. The priest turned and entered an open portal. The forcibly thrown dagger struck the sub-priest’s heart. He collapsed on the floor. The traveler yanked his blade free as he ran past him and through the open door.

On silent feet, he chased the master into the temple's depths. Nearing a corner, he peered around it and observed him talking with another sentry. The door creaked when the guard admitted the master. He removed a blowgun from his inner pocket and placed a dart into it. The missile hit the base of the sentry’s skull. Holding desperately to the handle to prevent falling to the floor, the sentry’s body held it open. The alien jumped through it and followed the sound of footsteps into the dark.

A low murmur of voices drifted into the dark hallway. Crouching down below a stone lattice, he looked for an interior guard. A soft cloth scraping across a stone pillar caused him to draw his left sword. He waited. The unknown assassin moved up on his right side.

Thrusting his blade through his cape, he stabbed him in the chest. He grabbed his body and slowly lowered it to the cold stone floor. He inserted a poison dart into a small blow gun and shot the missile across the lighted room. It struck the other guard in the throat. He died quietly.

Crawling along the wall, he peeked into a dimly lit room. Four hooded figures sat at the table with their backs to him. They faced a high priest seated upon a gold throne. The master priest prostrated at his feet.

He removed five darts from the pouch and lined them up in a row on the frieze’s supporting shelf. Methodically, he loaded each dart and fired at each figure. Loading the last one, he waited.

“Brethren, it is as we suspected,” the high priest said. “A fresh report from the field confirms six of the guild innocents were murdered out of hand by an unknown assailant. Dab was among them. That night, he advised me he would punish Krinna, the guilty, for her incompetence.”

“Their poor, mutilated bodies were found one mile from her home. She killed them all. I have sent three to rectify the situation. They are to present her head before me and this council today.”

“I sent a runner north to advise our brethren about the untimely deaths. We six remain, so I requested their help. I also sent for the greatest assassin in the known world. I need your voice of approval. How say you?”

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He waited for a reasonable amount of time and received no answer. “Wake the incompetent fools,” he ordered the recently arrived master. “No wonder we are dying. People kill us in our sleep. Get up, you fool, and wake them up!” He stepped down from his glorious, jewel-encrusted perch and kicked his groveling servant in the head.

Startled, he jumped up into the dart’s path. He fell backward and knocked the high priest to the floor. Kicking and flailing, he pushed the fool off his body. “Idiot!” he screamed, “You soiled my holy garments.” He stomped to the end of the table and pushed the first man. He rocked slowly and fell against the next one. They resembled dominoes as they fell in a heap on the floor.

His eyes bulged. His heart pounded in his chest. He strained his ears to detect the slightest sound. How did this all happen? In the prime of his life, when he had obtained more wealth than he could spend, death caught him unaware. He planned to die quietly at home, in his majestic bed, surrounded by all his family and friends. They would weep and mourn his untimely death. Their pure accolades would fill the room as they searched feverishly for his hidden wealth. Praise, worthy of his life, would open the portals of heaven so his entrance with God would be accompanied by laughter. His departing spirit would enjoy the futility of their fruitless search.

One could never depend on death playing according to man’s petty dreams or rules. He was going to die a poisonous death. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Not to him.

“Now, it is my turn. What derivative is it? Speak up, Krinna!”

The silence of the dead and the stillness in the room elevated his fear. He began to tremble. Sweat soaked his clothes and ran down his face. It ran into his eyes. They became coals of living fire, burning brightly. Did any of his old victims feel this way before they died? He wondered.

“Krinna was indisposed,” the gentle voice said. “As her advocate, I came to represent her before the august bodies of these men. She resents the fact that you refuse to pay her percentage. I’m here to collect it for her.”

“It is a frightful thing to know you are dead,” the soft voice said from his chair, his seat of righteous judgment. He tried to face his executioner. His body refused to obey his mind.

“It is a little concoction I mixed myself. Oh, you have nothing to worry about. It doesn’t kill you. However, you may starve to death. The mixture contains my secret formula for nerve paralysis. You may live for a month, but all movement is denied to you.”

“Kill me. I won’t speak our dark secrets to you. I am an Assassin God of the First Order.”

“That is very interesting. So, a wannabe god gets to sit in a pretty, elevated chair and execute others at the whims of people who don’t dare to engage their enemy face to face. It must be gratifying. I bet it pays well. How much do you garner from a job? Your guild must have a lot of money. Since you are their god, and you don’t trust people who kill people, then you hide their earnings from them.” The sound of something chopping wood fell on his ears.

Curious, he asked, “What are you doing to my chair?”

“I’m removing the stones from this gaudy travesty you call your throne so that you won’t lose them. How could you put valuable jewels in a gold-painted piece of cheap pine wood? Perhaps you are a cheap god and deserve the cheapest. You won’t need them. Krinna can use them to pay her medical bills. Now, where have you hidden the rest of your treasure?”

“Search my house. You won’t find it. I put it to the exchangers.”

“Let me think. Yes, you would hide it in the temple, but where? An unworthy could rip this rat hole apart and never find it. Wait! I do declare. I bet you sit on top of the heap. You sit here proudly, smugly, looking down on them while your nest egg continues to grow.”

“You are guessing.”

“You see, it helps to have a fruitful dialogue. Which hand grip do I lift? Is it the left one? Oh no, he is right-handed, and the scepter of judgment sits on the right side of his lavish, high chair. Let’s see. Oops! Is this my money?”

“No, it isn’t. It belongs to the guild.”

“Guild, what guild? I don’t see a guild. Oh, perhaps you mean them. Does anyone object if I take the money?” He waited patiently for an answer. “I hear no negative votes. I want to thank you all for your generosity.”

“Take your hands off my money. I’ll kill you … have you killed?”

“And I thought we were the best of friends. Did I fail to mention you can still suffer pain when paralyzed? It is a terrible experience. Everyone I’ve used it on says it is excruciating. I have some questions you need to answer.”

“I’m not answering anything.”

“I appreciate your honesty. It saves me a lot of time. I’ll close the door on my way out. Thank you for Krinna’s love offering.”

“Wait, what about me? Are you going to leave me here?”

“Truly, you must think me an ungrateful wretch. You are a generous host, but I can’t carry you and the money. I bid you a fair goodbye.” He closed the door and returned to the sanctuary. Breaking up a pile of wooden furniture, he started a fire. He locked the front door from the inside, broke out a window, and climbed out to the ground.