Assassin's Rise (14 page)

Darsken suddenly
crumbled onto the platform, his head coming to rest a few feet away
from his body.

The crowed hushed, and
Roland heard Jeklor drew in a sharp breath behind him, but still he
kept his eyes fixed on the bandy-legged man. The man’s expression
had not changed in the slightest, and his eyes had not moved from
Roland’s since his arrival. Then the man spoke – his voice soft,
but firm.

“Why you wish to
kill?”

“To right a wrong.”

“You think death will
change past?”

“No, but it will
prevent more of its sort.”

“And once you have your
death?”

Roland hesitated, and
then said, “There will always be more wrongs.”

“Are you prepared?”

“I am.”

“Will you follow
teachings without talk?”

“I will.”

The man’s eyes flicked
towards Roland’s companions and back. “They part of deal?”

“Yes, but they are free
to leave if they should so choose –”

Open mouthed, Jeklor
watched the exchange between the two men. They talked so fast it
seemed as though they had rehearsed the conversation beforehand. He
glanced at Andros, but his eyes were wider than ever, now fixed on
the de-bodied head resting by his feet. Dragon, however, did not
seem cowed at all. He was watching the exchange with rapt
attention, but it did not surprise Jeklor. Dragon, after all, would
not be able to comprehend that his own head could be gracing the
floor at any moment, too. Jeklor just prayed that Roland knew what
he was doing. The man he was talking to was very dangerous. If
light had not glinted on the sword as it had sliced through
Darsken’s neck, he would have missed it. Jeklor had never seen
anything move so fast before. He was sure that Darsken did not even
realise he was dead.

“– I am called Roland.
And this is Jeklor, Andros and Dragon,” said Roland.

“I am Li Ho,” the man
said, his eyes resting for a moment on each man in turn. His gaze
stopped at Dragon, and he studied Dragon’s face intently. “You look
like dead man come to life. I have good food for you,” Li Ho said
kindly, his voice filled with warmth.

Dragon opened his mouth
and made a guttural sound.

“Yes,” said Li Ho,
unperturbed, “meat also.”

Dragon beamed and Li Ho
turned on his heel, striding towards the walkway, stepping over
Darsken’s body, his hands clasped behind his back. “Follow,” he
said as he walked, “I live outside.”

*

“You have not asked
about payment,” said Roland to Li Ho as they followed a narrow
trail in the woods, the sound of the river far behind them.

“I have not asked, yes.
You have not got gold yet. If I train well, you will make much gold
and pay me.”

“You know what I intend
to do?”

“Not know, no. But have
good idea,” said Li Ho.

Somehow, it did not
surprise Roland, but he still had to ask, “How do you know?” He
glanced at Li Ho from the side of his eyes.

Li Ho stopped,
surprised. “You told me, I listen.”

“No I didn’t. When did
I tell you?”

Li Ho snorted and
walked ahead of Roland. “You say: ‘There will always be more
wrongs.’ That means you will deal death for long time, because many
wrongs there is.

“Work long time, make
much gold, pay me.”

Jeklor tapped Roland on
the shoulder and shook his head, pointing his finger at his ear and
drawing small circles in the air with it.

“I see you,” said Li Ho
without looking back and all the blood drained from Jeklor’s face.
“You clever man. If not so scared all the time, will be even more
clever.”

Li Ho stopped walking,
and Roland and Jeklor halted behind him. Jeklor grew paler still.
“I was just joking,” he said quickly.

Li Ho pointed over his
shoulder with his thumb, back down the trail. “Your friends are
tired. We go more slow.”

Roland and Jeklor
looked behind them and true enough, Andros and Dragon had fallen
far behind.

“So you were planning
on becoming an assassin from the start,” said Jeklor to Roland as
they waited for Andros and Dragon to catch up.

Roland nodded. “When I
woke up in that prison cell with you, I realised that Sirol
Vanderman will never pay for his crimes –” a muscle twitched below
his eye “– unless I did something about it, but I’m not skilled
–”

“But you’re a Healer!”
interjected Jeklor.

“– skilled with
fighting or weapons,” continued Roland as if Jeklor had not said
anything. “When you told me of Drifters’ Hell, and how the most
vicious bastards were found here, I had the idea to have someone
here teach me to kill. But I knew it would only work as long as I
can promise gold – enough gold to ensure I get the best training.
And the only way I can make enough gold is by collecting ...
heads,” Roland finished grimly.

“You have not thought
this through at all, have you?” said Jeklor. “So far the only thing
that have carried your plan was luck! And how do one even become an
assassin? Who will pay you for killing Sirol?”

Roland shrugged. “You
believed enough in my luck to go to The Tomb –”

Jeklor snorted.

“– and Sirol Vanderman
I will kill for free,” he said, his eyes cold. “To make gold I will
join the Assassins Guild.”

“Assassins Guild you
say,” said Jeklor laughing. “The Assassins Guild is a myth – and
even if it did exist, how will you even begin to find it?”

“The secret is in
entering from the sewers,” said Roland mysteriously.

*

The party reached Li
Ho’s cabin just before nightfall.

The woods in front of
the cabin had been cleared in a wide arch, making it impossible for
one to sneak up on his home without being in the open, and the rear
of the cabin rested against a rocky hill.

Li Ho bade them to wait
outside, saying, “You stink, not want flees in home,” and
disappeared into the cabin. He returned moments later carrying a
hammer, chisel and a large clay jug. He handed Roland the hammer
and chisel, telling him to knock the pins from their shackles.

Each time a chain fell,
it was a testament to being truly free, and once Roland started on
his own shackle, his hands shook so much that Jeklor took over for
him.

“No worries, old
horse,” Jeklor said to Roland as he knocked the pin out, blinking
his eyes rapidly.

The four men stood in
silence for a moment, staring down at the chains as if they had
never seen it before. Around each man’s leg where the shackle had
bounded him, the skin was thick and calloused.

“Good,” said Li Ho
breaking the silence. He handed Roland the clay jug and a small
iron shovel. “Take path there to waterhole. Bury clothes there and
wash.” He disappeared back into his cabin without another word.

The path Li Ho had told
them to follow looked like a deer trail, and it led them around and
to the rear of the hill. It continued up the hill, snaking between
large boulders. The top of the hill was nearly flat, the edges
encircled with rocks, and it felt as if they stood inside a
roofless hall. There was a waterhole between the rocks, the last
light of the day reflecting on the smooth surface.

Roland dug a shallow
hole in the rocky soil, and they all stripped, burying their
tattered clothes. Only Roland and Jeklor had boots left, but they
also buried those.

There was a moment of
sharply inhaled breath, and Andros swore loudly as they lowered
themselves into the water, old wounds and sores stinging. Water
bubbled up as a natural spring fed the pool, the water icy.

Roland broke the wax
seal on the jug and sniffed the beak. It was filled with a perfumed
type of oil and he poured some on his head, handing the jug around.
Roland scrubbed his hair and beard, his face strangely set, as if
trying to wash away more than grime.

Naked and barefoot,
skin ghostly pale, damp hair swinging on their backs, beards
untangled, the four men returned to the cabin. Li Ho sat on a stump
waiting for them, four grey outfits similar to the black one he
wore resting at his feet.

“You fresh like
newborn,” Li Ho said, handing each of them an outfit. “Today you
born again.”

They weren’t exactly
sure what Li Ho meant, but for some reason, accepting the clothes
felt like it had a deeper meaning, and they solemnly dressed – even
Dragon seemed deep in thought.

“I take off sleeves
because will be to short,” said Li Ho as they wrapped the
sleeveless shirts around them. The trousers were too short also,
riding high on their calves, but it fitted comfortably and sat
loose.

“Use sash to keep shirt
close,” Li Ho told Dragon, who stood with his shirt hanging open,
looking confused, “and make knot like this.” He helped Dragon to
tie the sash together.

“Thank you,” stammered
Jeklor, running his hands over the material. It was very thick, and
weaved so tightly, he thought it would last a lifetime. He had
never owned such high quality cloth.

“Not gift,” said Li Ho
waving a finger. “Roland pay with gold, but you will work.”

He stepped up to the
entrance of his cabin, beckoning them inside. “You can make own
sandals later, but we eat first – wipe feet when come in.”

“I
have promised two thousand gold
pieces for one year of training – and this is not training!” said
Roland angrily the following day.

Li Ho fixed his eyes on
Roland, his face impassive, but Roland took a sudden step
backwards, his heart thumping in his chest. For a moment, it had
seemed as if Li Ho had grown in size, towering over him.

“Not so stupid after
all. You can feel when I will kill you,” said Li Ho, and Roland for
no moment doubted his words.

“You promised to follow
teachings without talk,” continued Li Ho. “Learn to listen and
understand. From today, you do nothing but eat and rest. That also
training.”

“For how long?” risked
Roland.

Li Ho sighed and turned
his back on Roland. “Your body is almost gone. First need to heal.
I will see when you are strong enough to learn death.”

He walked from the
room, and then paused in the doorway. “Come, follow,” he said. “I
will give something to keep mind happy while resting.”

Li Ho led Roland
through the cabin.

The cabin was a long,
one-room building, but Li Ho had placed tall wooden dividers
throughout the interior, resulting in many small rooms that
resembled a maze. Li Ho halted at the back wall of the cabin and
unsheathed his sword. He slid the blade through an invisible gap
between the planks, and there was a silent click. He pushed against
the wall and it swung inwards, revealing a room dug inside the
rocky hill.

The room was panelled,
and mounted against the walls were an assortment of weapons:
swords, axes, daggers, throwing knives and strangely star-shaped
pieces of metal, metal-tipped wooden staves, spears, bows ...
Roland had never seen so many different weapons in one place.

“Just who are you, Li
Ho?” Roland whispered, his eyes slipping over the polished
weapons.

“Not tell you yet. Not
trust you yet,” Li Ho said matter-of-factly. He went to stand in
the centre of the room, his hands clasped behind him, his back to
Roland.

“Everything you see
here can deal death,” he said. “Many of weapons are made for
warriors, meeting and testing skill.

“Never forget that I am
not teaching to be warrior. You will move quick and silent – kill
without seen. If enemy finds you, you will run. Your strength will
be in small blades, and throwing blades. Heavy weapons will not
work well with you.”

Roland soaked in every
word Li Ho said, grim faced. He had thought himself prepared to
kill from behind, to moving in the shadows, but as Li Ho voiced the
words, he felt that it sounded cowardly.

Li Ho slowly turned
around, facing Roland. “In my land, assassin is honourable
profession,” he said, as if Roland had spoken his thoughts aloud.
“It takes great courage to be one, and only one in thousand is
good.”

“Are you – were you ...
an assassin?” asked Roland, unable to help himself.

Li Ho watched him
silently, unblinking, and finally he said, “No. Have knowledge but
not courage.”

Li Ho ignored the look
of disbelieve on Roland’s face and walked to the corner of the room
where he lifted a strangely shaped dagger from a mount on the wall.
He held the weapon up, showing it to Roland. It was not edged, but
had instead a round shaft about the length of Roland’s forearm,
tapered and ending in a sharp point. Two long prongs curved from
the handle toward the shaft, the tips curling outwards again. The
weapon had a brilliant, silver shine to it.

“This is called the
Zhutou,” said Li Ho. “Is not for cutting, but for sticking.”

He twirled the weapon
around his hand in a blur of silver and stabbed the air with it,
three, four times – quicker than Roland’s eye could follow.

“Stabbing quickest way
to kill silently. Cutting gives target chance to shout or run
away.”

He ran his hand along
the prongs of the weapon and said, “Zhutou also for disarming. You
catch enemy weapon here –” he demonstrated by pushing his hand
between the prongs, “– and twist. If skilled, can break any
sword.”

Li Ho handed the weapon
to Roland hilt first.

It was surprisingly
hefty, but the weight felt comfortable in Roland’s hand. Almost
reverently, he ran his hand along the unblemished metal. He had
never seen a weapon of this sort, but from the shape alone, he
could tell how it should be used.

“I am glad you like –
but not that easy to use,” said Li Ho, and once again, Roland had
the feeling of his thoughts being read.

Li Ho chuckled. It was
the first time Roland saw him without his usual, impassive
expression. “Easy to see what man think when face shows
everything,” said Li Ho. “You must learn to hide face, otherwise
not good assassin.”