The threesome met for dinner, exhausted from their training. Gemini's hair was back to its normal color; apparently the others had not noticed it before. They went to Gemini's room with a pitcher of chilled fruit juice, a loaf of coarse bread for them each and a platter of cheese and ham, all of which had been given to them by a cheerful palace cook who reassured them that they could come any time, and adamantly encouraged them to. Elspeth and Gemini warily avoided the ham.
"What's wrong with the ham?" questioned Charri through a mouthful of ham sandwich. Elspeth swallowed the bite of food she was eating.
"We had to dissect that pig in bio, remember?" She shuddered. Gemini snickered, but didn't comment.
"What do you guys say we just break for tonight? I'm tired; I bet you guys are too," Gemini said with a sigh. The others nodded wearily, and pulled themselves up from the floor.
They left their plates out in the hall for the servants to pick up, and each retired to their own rooms, and collapsed into their beds, sleep overcoming them instantly.
* * *
Hakan paced in his generous suite of rooms, his reddish black hair whipping about his shoulders as he made sharp turns. He had to get rid of those those foreigners. They might completely destroy his plans. Finally, he strode purposefully from his rooms to the stables. He barked an order to a groomsman, who hurried to tack up a horse. Hakan scowled. He didn't have time for this. He had to get rid of these children before dawn. He yanked the reins from the groomsman's hands, who melted back into the shadows with a sullen apology. Hakan mounted up and sent the horse to the Royal Gate at full gallop. He nodded to the guard, who genially opened the gate and nodded to the noble as he passed.
The night was dark and hot, humidity pressing down on him like a weight. The moon was nowhere in sight, and the stars seemed as bright as the moon would be. The trees were silhouetted against the sky; starlight spilled onto the path, illuminating it with gentle blue light as the harsher yellow of torches flooded the road.
Hakan once more spurred his horse to the city of Corus, his spurs biting into its sides. The horse sidestepped, unused to such treatment, and finally obliged with a pained whinny. Hakan, after a few minutes of riding through crowds as people shouted to others to get out of the way, took a left past a leather-worker's shop into a small alley. A sign stood above a sturdy wooden door, its paint peeling and chipped. If one could look closely, one would see a dove, and the words 'The Dancing Dove' in the faded paint. Hakan dismounted and tossed a copper coin to a nearby boy to hold his horse. Hakan strode steadily into the pub; the brilliant light hitting his eyes and making him flinch. Talk was quiet and hushed; men looked warily at the noble who strode past them. Hakan was an impressive sight: he wore dark red breeches and tunic; a rust-colored cape flowed behind him like water.
Buxom serving girls sidled through the crowds in gaudy dresses with low-cut decollates and kilted-up skirts as men laughed and pinched them whenever they thought no one was looking. One, a short beauty with a golden hue to her skin and almond-shaped eyes noticed Hakan, and walked over to him, swaying her hips provocatively. "So," she murmured. "What's a handsome young man like ye doing here?" She pressed seductively against his chest, her silky black hair brushing his arms. Hakan smiled politely, and gently pushed her aside.
"I'm here on business," he said lowly as he passed. "I'll be back... later."
The serving wench grinned. "Ask fer Lily when ye come, handsome," she said with a slow wink and yipped as a middle-aged man pinched her backside, laughing drunkenly.
Hakan re-postured his shoulders, and, looking the crowd over, noticed a silent young man sitting by himself in a corner, his wary blue eyes following Hakan's every move. He wore all black, the trademark of an assassin. Hakan walked over, his hands out to show he had no weapons. The young man set down his half-full mug of ale, and looked up at the standing Hakan.
"What can I do for you, friend?" the man asked in a falsely smooth voice, his intonation low to prevent eavesdroppers. His voice was low and pleasant; the Commoner's soft accent was lost in his tone. He spoke deliberately, and skipped no h's, no g's. Hakan smiled grimly, and eased into a seat by the young man.
"I need an assassination. Three of them, in fact. And I am willing to pay well. Very well," he said easily, as if he did this every day of his life.
The man frowned. "What makes you think I'm an assassin?" he asked coldly, and took a small sip of his ale. Hakan shrugged.
"A guess. Can you do the job?"
The assassin shrugged. "I suppose I might. Now, how much would you be paying me, to whom would I be doing this service, and where are they?" he asked in a business-like tone. Hakan smiled forbiddingly.
"Three girls," he said lowly. "At the palace. Here's a map." He drew a small piece of paper from a pocket inside his tunic, and laid it gently on the table. The assassin reached forward and with swift, deliberate movements, opened the paper. He gazed upon it with cynical eyes that relayed none of his feelings. Inside was a detailed map of the girls' rooms. He refolded it, and laid it upon the table again.
"And how much might you be paying me for this job, friend?" he asked smoothly. He thought little of whom he was killing. A job was a job, just like any other. If you wanted your tunic patched, and you didn't know how to sew, you took it to a tailor to repair it. If you needed someone dead, and didn't know how, or didn't have the courage to do it yourself, you hired someone to kill for you. It was as simple as that, and that was all that he knew.
Hakan reached into another pocket and drew out a small leather pouch. He tossed it onto the table; it fell into place with small, muted clinks as the coins fell together. The assassin hesitated, then reached out to look inside. He poured it into his hand. Five gold nobles fell into place with soft clinks that could only be made by coins. The assassin scowled, the first emotion Hakan had seen him emit. The hired killer returned the coins to the pouch and tossed it down. "You'll have to do better than that if you want a good assassin, friend," he said warningly. "If not, don't waste my time."
Hakan glowered at him. "Fine. Five gold nobles a piece. Is that enough for you, friend?"
The assassin snorted. "Make it twenty-five gold nobles per assassination, and I'll consider it. You want a sloppy job, you can pay that much. You might get some drunk who'll do it for you, but you want a good assassin, you pay good money." His tone was final.
Hakan growled in outrage. "Twenty. No more, no less. Is that enough for you?"
The assassin shrugged. "I suppose. But, then again, I might accidentally let slip to My Lord Provost who ordered the girls killed."
Hakan paled slightly. "Fine. Twenty-five," he said reluctantly.
The assassin gave an inner smile. He had considerably raised the price, but since this noble obviously didn't know the going rate, there was no harm in boosting the price a bit. After all, it wasn't as if the man would miss the money. The assassin nodded shortly in agreement, and they shook hands curtly. "I'll give you the pay when the job is done," announced Hakan.
"Oh, no, friend. You might not pay up. I want fifty now, and I'll get the rest when the job is done." Hakan scowled, but saw the reason in this.
"Very well." He drew another pouch out, counted forty-five more gold coins, and handed the heavy pouch to the assassin. The man nearly started in surprise; what kind of sane man walked into the Dancing Dove with that much coinage? "Come to the Palace tomorrow night, and ask for Lord Hakan. I want the job done tonight, or I'll hand you in to my Lord Provost for thievery." And with that, he whirled around with a dramatic flourish of his cape, and strode from the inn. The assassin smiled wryly as he saw a ghostly hand reach up and pluck Hakan's pouch from his belt. Tonight, he thought, fingering the cold metal disks in the pouch. He sighed, and downed the rest of his ale. He had time, but now was as good as later. He set the mug down, and slipped from the warm tavern, melting into the shadows as he walked briskly to the palace.
* * *
Cowan sighed, running a hand through artificially black hair that brushed the back of his neck. He stared up the trellis, wondering how best to climb it and, beyond that, how best to assassinate the Three. He shook his head, and started his climb. He was an interesting creature; six feet tall, with a lithe, muscular build. His brilliant, sapphire-blue eyes pierced the night, missing little or nothing. All that he wore was black. Had he not dyed his hair for need of more discretion, it would be a dark, ashy brown.
The trellis made the climb incredibly easy; had he wanted to, the assassin could have scaled the wall without it. But, if the Gods smiled upon him, he wasn't about to pass it up. After only a few seconds of climbing, he heaved himself silently into the first room. Rounding the bed, he deftly slid a razor-sharp dagger from one of his many hiding places. In this case, he took a knife strapped to his right calf.
The girl's long, walnut-brown hair was sprawled out on her pillow, creating a halo effect for her face, not to mention tangles that would be awful to brush out. One arm was slung carelessly above her head on the pillow, the other crossed her stomach comfortably. Her face was round, with a soft mouth and a stubborn look to her chin. Long eyelashes brushed her cheeks, which were tanned with a soft hint of pink. Cowan leaned forward to pressed the ice-cold steel to her throat, and stopped. He pulled back and fiddled with his dagger, procrastinating. She wouldn't be the first he'd killed, but suddenly, killing her in cold blood as such made him cringe. Killing fat old merchants and cruel nobles was one thing; killing an innocent young girl was another. He leaned in with his knife again; there was a first time for everything She made a mewing sound, as if protesting the certain death that she knew nothing of, and twisted, trying to get into a more comfortable position. She licked her lips, and opened her eyes. She saw Cowan, and smiled dreamily, still half asleep. Cowan backed up half a step and looked questioningly back, wondering why she wasn't panicking.
Suddenly, Gemini shrieked, fully awake. Pressing herself against the wall at the head of her bed, she scrabbled underneath her pillow, and yanked out the plain, but useful, dagger that she had never returned. She flashed it around at Cowan, catching him off guard. The knife bit cruelly, deep into his left biceps. He cursed fluently, and backed off a pace. 'Evil comes in many guises, innocence the most deadly,' he thought disgustedly, remembering a warning from his old teacher. He turned his head aside for a single instant. Expecting more of an attack, he turned around again, looking for the hellcat that had wounded him, fury pounding in his ears.
She wasn't there. He blinked unbelievingly. He slinked to the other side of the bed, and looked beneath it. No one. Confused, he stood up. A deep growl pierced the night. Cowan turned to it, and was suddenly knocked backwards as two hundred pounds of very angry lioness smashed into him. On his back, he was helpless, the claws digging into his throat. He looked into the lioness's hazel eyes, wondering, Now how in the Black God's Realm did this lion get here?! The lioness continued to growl, a low, continuous warning. The great cat looked up from his face, and batted the dagger closer. Cowan closed his eyes.
Suddenly, the weight lessened, but there was still something there. Cowan opened his eyes and gulped. There was a five-inch dagger pressed to his throat, preventing any movement on his part, but that wasn't what astonished him. The girl he was about to kill was straddling his chest, fury sparking her hazel eyes, the same eyes as the lion's. Only, that wasn't the surprising thing about it.
She was totally naked, save for the dagger she wielded.
Cowan blushed slightly, her lack of attire an utter surprise to him and rather uncomfortable.
"Uhh... ummm..." he stuttered.
Her teeth bared in an animal-like gesture of fear and anger, she ignored him and growled, "What are you doing here?"
Cowan tried to speak, but couldn't do so comfortably past the dagger. "Knife," he hissed. Gemini frowned, and inched it away, but only enough so he could talk without too much discomfort. "Well, that's much better now. If you don't mind, I do have to be going . . ." he said, the cocky words betrayed by the shaking of his voice. Cowan tried to sit up, but Gemini pressed the dagger closer.
"As you were saying?" The girl asked mockingly, wiggling the knife so he knew exactly who was boss. Cowan sighed dramatically.
"Very well. I was here to assassinate you." He shrugged, and lay back comfortably. As long as he was being held prisoner, he might as well be comfortable. Gemini frowned, her forehead creasing in thought.
"Who sent you?" She asked after a moment's silence.
"Well, you do know that it would be bad for business if I told..." Gemini shoved the dagger back into his throat, her eyes blazing.
"Damn you, this isn't a game! Who sent you? Who?!" With that last bit, she bore down on the knife, until a small trickle of his blood slipped down his neck, making a small pool on the floor. Cowan considered. He owed no fealty to Hakan, not even respect, and he had no love for nobles. He swallowed, wincing as his cut began to sting, and contemplated the angry hellcat, literally in more ways than one, that was holding a dagger to his throat.
"Hakan sent me," he said easily, wondering where this was going to get him. Whatever happened, he was sure the next few months would be anything but boring.
Gemini frowned, and got off him, still oblivious of her unclothed state. She kept the dagger to his throat, but motioned for him to get up. Cowan carefully got to his feet; why he didn't slip away, and he could easily do so, even he could not say. Something was too weird here to just walk away from, and he was sure that she didn't have the courage to slit his throat, even if provoked. Gemini walked him to the door next to her bed and knocked.
"Charri? Wake up. I need you," she called, not once taking her eyes off the intruder. She heard a sleepy protest, but a few seconds later the door opened.
"Gem, what do you need? It's really early in the morning..." she trailed off, staring at Cowan. "Oh," she said finally. "What do you need me for? What do you think is this, a gang-bang?"
Gemini snorted, and Cowan looked at her oddly. Gemini looked to him. "Don't ask," she advised. "You really don't want to know." Cowan blinked, but didn't comment.
"I need his arm healed. I think I got him pretty badly." She nodded to the offending weapon guiltily. "Oh, and by the way, he's he told me here's here to assassinate us."
"What?!" squawked Charisma. "Just an 'Oh, by the way, he's here to kill us', and you expect me to heal him?"
"Ummm... yeah, I do," replied Gemini, shifting her weight guiltily, but keeping her eyes on Cowan, who was pointedly looking at Charri. "I know he's here to hurt us, but I still want him out of here with nothing more than scratches. I just feel guilty, I guess. And he's an assassin, right? So it's not exactly his fault that he was going to kill us, it was his job. Ummm Sort of?" she said hopefully, hoping that Charri would just take the story and leave it at that. Unbeknownst to either of the girls, Cowan heaved a grateful sigh inwardly. He had been worried about the wound; he knew of no well-trained Healer that would charge a fee less than five gold nobles just to bind it, and Cowan didn't want to spend that kind of money. As it was, what he had been paid was a small fortune. He vaguely remembered that Hakan had threatened to go to the Provost, but he hadn't even bothered to get Cowan's name. And Cowan knew that no on in the Rogue who valued his throat would betray him.
Charri sighed and reluctantly began to cut open the sleeve with a dagger of her own. Gemini warily withdrew the dagger, and wiped it carelessly on Cowan's shirt. Charri laid her hands on the bloody gash, and a pale green fire streamed from her hands into his arm, healing him. Cowan winced as the pain left, leaving a painful cramp in his arm. Charri sat back, breathing heavily.
"There. That takes care of that. Now, Gemini," she turned to her friend. "I want an explanation, if you please. And I also want to know why you're, uh, dressed like that." Gemini, confused, looked down. She looked up again, blushing furiously, staining her face a deep crimson. She fled back into her room, and appeared a moment later, dressed in a hastily yanked on nightgown. She waited to go back in; she was absolutely mortified. It's okay, she told herself forcefully. He wasn't looking anyway. Yeah right, answered another voice. Gemini chose to kick that other little voice away, and slunk back inside, keeping several feet away from Cowan, and kept her eyes down. She studied the floor as if it was something vital to be memorized, embarrassment and mortification radiating from her. Cowan's face mirrored hers, and they both looked away from each other.
Cowan yawned, and lay back against the bed. Totally without meaning to, he fell asleep, his body exhausted from fighting, shock and healing. Charri sighed, and turned to Gemini. "What'll we do with him? Just toss him back out the window?" Gemini cocked her head, as if seriously considering the thought. She finally shook her head ruefully.
"Put him in my bed. I'll sleep on the floor. He'll probably get up early, so we need never see him again. And, with what we did for him, I seriously doubt he'll go after us again. For tonight, at least." Gemini took his feet, motioning for Charri to take his shoulders. Smiling wryly, she did so.
The two of them heaved up the assassin and struggled to get him to Gemini's bed. Afterwards, Charri grinned a goodnight, and went back to her own room, closing the door with a soft click. Gemini sighed, and lay down a ways away from the bed. She hoped that her trust put in the assassin was a good choice.
* * *
Cowan woke up a little before dawn. He sat up and stretched, wondering why he was so comfortable. He normally slept on a table with a blanket and a pitiful excuse for a pillow.
He blinked, everything coming back to him. He had tried to kill the Three, but had nearly been killed by the one called Gemini He looked over to where she lay curled up, cat fashion. A lock of her hair spilled across her face. He grinned slowly, white teeth showing brilliantly out against a tanned face. He slipped out of bed, and padded over to the girl. He scooped her up, stumbling slightly, one arm supporting her shoulders, the other in the crook of her knees. She smiled languorously in her sleep, her dreams blissfully free of men in black stalking her with long, razor sharp knives.
He sighed, and went to the window, retrieving his boots, shirt and daggers, which Gemini apparently had removed for his comfort. On top of them was a small, leather pouch. Curious, Cowan shook out the contents. Five gold nobles spilled into his hand, along with a note.
'For your silence, and for our safety,' was all it said. Cowan nodded. She did not even have to pay him to make him refuse to kill her. He set the pouch along with the nobles onto her dresser, and, using an odd kind of quill found in her pack, he scrawled down a message. He set the note upon the pouch, and put on his things. Before he went, he turned back to the sleeping form coiled beneath the sheets. It stirred, and Cowan hastily retreated to the window.
"Well," he grinned to himself. "Fifty gold nobles, and I didn't even have to get my hands dirty. Now that is what I call a good night." And with that, he began the careful climb back down the wall.
* * *
Gemini woke up a little before dawn the next morning, actually moments after Cowan had left, and, despite last night's little adventure, she was wide awake. Fury radiated from her; fire snapped in her eyes. She was pissed, even more so than last night. Why that no-good, cheating, lying goddamned traitor!! She whipped the covers back, and practically ran to her dresser and whisked off her nightgown, throwing it on the bed. She yanked on her clothing, not bothering to read the note left on her dresser. She'd deal with it later.
She stalked to Charri's room, and walked in without bothering to knock. "Charri, wake up." Charri blinked her eyes at Gemini.
"Gem, this is the second time tonight. What is it this time?"
"We need to get Lord Hakan in front of His Majesty as soon as we can." She paced the room nervously. "He's a traitor; he might try to hurt Jonathan"
"Whoa, Gemini, slow down. You may be right, but what if that guy was lying? We have no proof that he was really the one who sent him"
"I'm sick of this 'no proof' stuff! Alanna never felt she had any proof, and see where it got her!" Gemini's voice rose until she was nearly shouting.
"Quiet!" hissed Charri. She glowered at Gemini, then added in a more quiet, but no less adamant tone, "We're not in America anymore, Gemini, you can't just go around accusing nobles of being traitors! You know what happens then, right? Then we do get killed, either by the guy we insulted or by being executed." Charri was astonished; Gemini had never acted like this before. Well, she had never been nearly killed before, but that was beside the point. The point was, she and Gemini never fought
"I know we're not in America anymore, Charri, wake up and smell the Spidrens! We're millions of galaxies away, and yet as close as a heartbeat" She collapsed onto Charri's bed. "Charri, I don't know how to deal with this. We were nearly killed last night, and"
"You were what?!" squawked an outraged voice. The two girls looked up to find Elspeth looking at them in astonishment, her unsheathed sword in her hand. "And how did that happen?!"
"Charri, you explain it. I can't," said Gemini quietly. Charri sighed, and began what she knew of the story.
"When I, er, asked him who sent him, he said Lord Hakan," concluded Gemini. Elspeth whirled around.
"We've got to stop him!" she spat, advancing on the door. "That crazed maniac has to be stopped!" She nearly made it out the door, but Charri ran to catch up with her.
"Elspeth, you're thinking even less than Gemini. We can't accuse Hakan without proof. That is the bottom line, whether we like it or not," she said, holding Elspeth's shoulders.
"But we have to do something!" complained Elspeth. "We can't just let him roll over us like this!" She and Charri continued to argue, then Gemini spoke up, her voice quiet.
"Maybe there is one thing," she said, and left the room for a minute. She came back a few seconds later, the leather pouch she had left for Cowan in her left hand and a scrap of paper in the other. "This might be the answer to our current problem," she said, opening the paper.
"'You need not pay me. You have my word that I will not hurt you or your companions. Should you need me, come to the Dancing Dove in the city, and ask for Cowan. I will be found, and I will help how I can. Goddess Bless. - Cowan,'" she read briskly, then refolded the paper and stuck it into a pocket. "The assassin, Cowan, I guess, can help us."
"Gemini, you are so naïve. This Cowan nearly killed us last night. And that doesn't put a damper on our relationship?!" demanded Elspeth rhetorically. Gemini stuck her chin out stubbornly.
"I trust him. The Goddess knows why, but I do," Gemini said hotly and, to her surprise, she found she meant each word.
"Honestly! It's great you're so trusting, but this is going way too far. You can't protect yourself from him! Please, let me go with you! I, at least, can defend myself and you if the need arises! What if he?" Elspeth looked worriedly at Gemini, her hair nearly standing on end.
"Leave me out of your sick fantasies, Elspeth. I'm going. This morning. We haven't a moment to lose." She looked out the window. The east was just beginning to lighten, and the stars were fading to make way for the hazy shine of pinks and yellows of a beautiful sunrise. Spotting the trellis Cowan had used last night, she swung herself out of the window, and started warily to lower herself down the trellis.
"Gemini! You can't seriously be thinking of going!" protested Charri.
"Not to mention, couldn't you pick something a little less hero-y? I mean, the door's that way" Elspeth said, pointing behind her. "We're not prisoners or anything."
"Yeah, we sort of are. I'll be back by noon bell. If I'm not back in ten days, send a search party." She grinned wryly, and at the bottom of the trellis, scampered off through the gardens. Charri and Elspeth stood there, shaking their heads.
"Baka," muttered Elspeth, and stalked back to her rooms. Charri shook her head, not knowing what to think. Elspeth got her backpack and shuffled through it, trying to find something to do. She hit upon a pack of cards. She smiled, and called to Charri.
"Hey, Charri, how about a game of Spit?" |
