Light of Elliana: Book One—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Nine: Meer

Reka’et buried his blade in the plush feather bed Prince Donovan had quickly vacated. The assassin vented a hiss of anger and fluidly stepped around the large wooden bed’s footboard.

His black leather boot’s padded soles made no sound as he closed in on his quarry.

In a blur, the Meer darted towards Prince Donovan, striking at his victim’s throat. The prince blunted his attack with his blanket wrapped arm. His foe counter-attacked, stabbing upward, and he felt a brief tug as his opponent’s dagger cut cloth.

Prince Donovan lunged forwards, attempting to grapple with him, but Rekert was stronger and faster. In the struggle, the prince deflected Reka’et’s dagger away, which had been aimed for his heart. Suddenly the prince slammed his right shoulder into the assassin, forcing him backward. “Help! Assassin! Help!” Prince Donovan yelled.

Reka’et closed one last time with Prince Donovan and attempted an- other slashing strike. The prince’s sheet wrapped arm blunted his attack, and the assassin promptly evaded his enemy’s razor-sharp reply. The Meer vented a snarl, leaped for the narrow window ledge, and slipped outside. Nimbly leaping to the courtyard’s smooth stones, the killer sprinted among shadows toward his chosen escape route.

“Guards. Stop the intruder!” Prince Donovan’s voice boomed from the window Reka’et had escaped from a moment ago.

Nearing the courtyard’s center, the Meer noted an armed sentinel stood between himself and his escape route. Reka’et’s keen night-vision allowed him to inspect his enemy as the assassin approached him. The large man wore a polished barbute helm and leather armor and had spotted him as well. With a quickness which belied his size, the guard drew his falchion sword and strode towards him.

“Halt and identify yourself,” the guard challenged in a deep, commanding voice that demanded an answer.

The Meer’s mission and escape depended heavily upon stealth and speed. Much to Reka’et’s chagrin, he had failed to complete his assignment. His only recourse was to dispose of the guard and escape from Kelner’s Bastian. With a low growl, the assassin drew his swords and charged the watchman. In a spinning attack, Reka’et’s  razor-sharp steel  blade shimmered in the moonlight as it darted toward his foe’s thigh. The sentry promptly deflected his blade. Again, the killer attacked, to unnerve, or cause the guard to over-react. The game had now become most exciting. There was only so much time before additional guards would arrive in response to Prince Donovan’s cries for help.

Instinctively, Reka’et chose to evade the guard’s sword blow. He hurled a small black-feathered dart, which pierced the large sentry’s throat below the jaw. The guard paused momentarily, distracted by the dart’s impact. In a blur, the assassin leaped into the night air, sailing over his enemy’s head and landed behind him with a shoulder roll.

Fine grooves cut into the little missile’s sharp point were filled with an extremely potent venom. After the dart struck, the sentry immediately re- moved it. It was already too late. The deadly poison it released would soon stop his beating heart.

Reka’et continued to run quietly towards his escape route. The prince’s cries must have awakened the girl, who now appeared upon a shadowed stone balcony at the far end of the courtyard. With bare feet, she descended the steps towards him, wielding two swords. The assassin drew both his swords and prepared for battle.

The swordswoman was descending to the flat stone courtyard without hesitation, in a rush of shimmering steel, his opponent attacked. The Meer parried her thrust and countered with a riposte aimed at her throat. With rapt attention, he grinned when she stepped back and to the side, evading his counterattack.

Quickly flipping his wrist, Reka’et hurled a dagger at her. He smiled as his opponent slid to the side, a moment before his blade thudded into the wooden railing where she had stood. She stepped away from his approach, on the defensive with swords in hand, taking measured steps. The girl suddenly lunged, spinning in an attack with both blades. The Meer felt a blade dance along his ribs on his left side.

In silent anger, Reka’et leaped towards his enemy, striking out with a flurry of sword blows. This girl would have to die in agony. He tripped her, and she recovered nicely by rolling away, rising once more while wielding both blades.

Not to be swayed by his wound, the killer continued to advance, pressuring her towards a corner where she would die. Again, Reka’et attacked, using his strength and speed to overcome her defenses. With a mighty lunge, he swiftly closed the distance between them. He forcefully struck the flat of her left sword with his left blade, while hammering her right sword with his own, above its hilt. His combined blows sent his foe’s right sword spinning across the courtyard’s flat stones, far out of her reach. The attack sent her back-peddling to recover. His opponent attempted to sidle over to where her other sword had come to rest. The Meer stepped be- tween her and the blade. Without pausing, he attacked once more.

“Now you die!” he whispered.

Powerfully, Reka’et closed with his enemy and easily deflected her counterattack. He pressed forward, pushing her back. Moonlight gleamed on his sword, as it descended towards her neck. His mighty blow never landed. Prince Donovan’s gleaming blade deflected the assassin’s weapon, as he charged in from behind her.

Reka’et was forced onto the defensive by the attack. The prince’s long- sword descended in a shining arc that the assassin deflected away. Prince Donovan repelled the Meer’s counterattack and nimbly danced away. The killer noted the girl had recovered her other sword. She was now advancing to rejoin the fight.

In a blur, the assassin sheathed a blade. Reka’et withdrew a slender wooden tube from a black leather sheath underneath his forearm. Any moment now, Palace Guards would come crashing in. This battle had taken much too long. Abruptly the Meer attacked, feigning a strike at Prince Donovan’s legs as his hand raised a mouth pipe to his lips. With a puff of his breath, a fine dust cloud enveloped the she-devil’s head, causing her to stagger backward. Immediately, he hurled the spent wooden tube at Prince Donovan, making him duck to the side. The maneuver bought him much-needed time to make good his escape.

With a grin, Reka’et imagined the agonizing death the she-devil would experience. The sound of boots approaching prompted the assassin to run and leap towards a stone statue of a knight holding a sword. He landed lightly upon the stone sculpture’s arm and leaped onto a thick tree bough. Without pause, the Meer jumped to a higher branch and with a bound, leaped onto a tiled roof. As the killer ran across the rooftop, he saw several Palace Guards charging into the courtyard, who quickly shouted.

The Meer fled along with shadowed roof tiles, as several arrows hissed past him. Archers below were getting much too close. All about Reka’et, the castle roofs were alive with guards carrying oil lanterns. Slowly, a net was being drawn tighter around him. The assassin ran faster along with roof tiles, nimbly leaping and landing upon another roof ’s expanse.

Suddenly, a guard carrying an oil lantern appeared from out of no- where in front of Reka’et. The startled watchman attempted to draw his sword. The assassin responded with a mighty kick to this new threat’s chest, sending the now screaming man flying backward. The sentry impacted the waters of a fountain below, drenching several guards who scattered.

“It was going to be close,” Reka’et thought.

Bands of armed men carrying torches were already searching the grounds below. Without a doubt, guards would soon be filling Kandalare’s streets, looking for him. Fortunately, they had not advanced to the point where they would block his escape route.

“Until now!” Reka’et thought.

In front of him, a sentry was crouching without an oil-lantern, about four feet from the roof ’s edge. The guard was wearing a polished barbute helm and leather armor. He was squatting where Reka’et had to leap from, to gain access to the expanse of tiled-roof beyond. The guard slowly rose while smiling and drew his falchion sword. He beckoned to him with his hand and stood there silently, waiting.

Reka’et stopped and rocked backward while drawing a board blade from a leather sheath on his upper right thigh. In a blur, the Meer snapped the weapon up beside his right ear and hurled it at the sentry while rocking forward. The black flat seven-inch long iron bar was as wide as his thumb and had a sharpened point. With a meaty thud, the weapon embedded itself in the right eye slot of his target’s barbute helmet.

The guard lost his balance while grasping at the projectile jutting from his ruined eye. He toppled over the edge, screaming. “AAAhhhhhhhh.” Moments later, his body hit the limestone flagstones below with a heavy thud, as his sword skittered to the side and lay still. Immediately, Reka’et raced to where his enemy had been standing and leaped to the next roof. He sailed through the air and landed lithely on roof tiles.

“What were the odds, Prince Donovan would be awake when he had come to pay him a visit?” Reka’et asked himself. He had studied the layout of this fortress and its guard’s routines for over a month.

With a great leap, Reka’et pounced upon one guard blocking his es- cape from Kelner’s Bastion to Kandalare below. His dagger found a home in his victim’s back, as his left hand smothered his victim’s cries. The body beneath him kicked, shuddered a few times, and went still.

Reka’et retrieved a coil of rope he had hidden behind a wooden water-barrel and bucket. He fastened one end to a thick iron ring an oil lantern hung from and tested its strength. The Meer threw the rope over a white limestone parapet, to hang beside the outer curtain wall. Rapidly, the assassin descended to the ground below. The killer dashed across King Edder’s road into Kandalare, blending with the shadows becoming one with the night.