The full moon shone brightly over Celborne. It illuminated the rooftops, most of which were made of white shale. This made moving around unnoticed above the city almost impossible.
The masked man crouched low on the roof of the Limping Boar Inn. Only his beetle black eyes could be seen below the mask, which covered the lower half of his face. Those eyes showed a higher sense of awareness and a wisdom of someone who had lived in darkness and cover for many years. They were masculine, and dangerous.
He was dressed in black padded clothing, easy to maneuver in. Only his eyes showed, the rest of his body was covered. He had two double edged daggers securely strapped in leather sheaths on both of his thighs. Six throwing blades were similarly sheathed across his torso. A role of thin but strong wire was strapped beside the dagger on his right leg, along with a lock pick. Next to the dagger on his left leg was a small fine toothed saw made of hardened steel. A quiver of bolts and a crossbow were strapped to his back.
Only a few weapons and tools used by an assassin of his status.
In his hands he held a sturdy plank that measured three meters in length, long enough to reach across an alley from one roof to another. He was waiting for a good moment to move off this roof onto the next. The estate belonging to his victim was only two rooftops away, but the streets and alleys were busy tonight, and he did not want to be seen. The consequences of tonight’s assignment could cause havoc, and he didn’t want anyone to know he had anything to do with it.
The moon was suddenly covered my cloud, and the assassin padded silently across the roof. By the time the cloud had revealed the moon again, he was lying flat on his stomach on the wall of the estate with the plank underneath him. The wall was at least a meter thick, so nobody would see him from the alley below him. Only someone looking from a second storey window from the mansion would see him if they looked hard enough.
He watched for any patrolling guards in the lavish garden, but there was no movement. He slipped off the wall and landed catlike on the soft grass on the inside of the wall. Crouching as he silently padded, he made his way to a tree and hid in its shadow. He observed the mansion from there. His victim would be in a room on the second storey, and he would have to climb the wall to enter through a window. He found what he was looking for; thick creepers grew up the eastern wall of the building, and they would make scaling the wall a simple task.
He had one final look around the garden to check for a guard, and then silently ran to the creeper and started climbing. He came up to a balcony and swung himself onto it. A curtain closed off the room beyond and he padded up to it and opened it slightly to peer into the room. It was almost pitch black inside, but at the far wall he could make out a four-poster bed surrounded by thin mosquito netting. He entered the room and made his way to the bed, hoping that his victim would be the one within the mosquito netting. He unsheathed a dagger and peered in.
A young girl no older than eighteen lay on her back. She was partially covered by a silk sheet, and she was completely naked. A leg and her upper torso were not covered, and the assassin felt himself blush. She was beautiful!
The assassin shook himself. He was not here to admire pretty girls. He turned and made his way to the door. He opened it a crack to check the hallway beyond, then slipped out of the room. He glanced at the bed before closing the door, then moved on. He crept up the passage, stopping at a door at the very end. From behind it someone was snoring loudly, and the assassin entered. He could see two bodies in the double bed that stood in the very center of the room. The assassin smiled when he recognized the two figures.
Well, well, the assassin thought to himself, this is rather unexpected. Now I know why you have so much influence on the Council, Councilman Balk. Lady Ara is a very influential woman. It also explains why so many people want you dead.
The assassin turned his dagger and unfastened a secret compartment on the hilt. He withdrew a small glass vile from the padded compartment. He usually coated the tips of the blades of his daggers in the poison the vile contained, but he would not need to do so tonight. Councilman Balk lay on his back, with his mouth wide open. The assassin tipped the vile, and a single drop landed on the councilman’s tongue.
‘Goodnight, Councilman Balk,’ the assassin muttered. He quickly left the room.
Taken from my pending book, "Dawn of Shadow". (excuse grammar mistakes)
Shane Nel "true beauty" Lonely
- 15 years, 3 months, 29 days ago
