The Serpentine's Revenge

Chapter Three

Pain spiked up my hand. Blood crusted on top on my knuckles as they split open from the punch.

Both my blood and his. I stumbled a bit, trying to regain my balance as my opponent flew backwards onto the dusty tavern floor. The crowd cheered, their many voices blending into one. He stood up, fire burning in his eyes. He grabbed my arm, and his boot contacted my ribs with a crack. I stumbled back, my ankle cursing under the bad fall. A cloud of dusty sand plumed upward, making my eyes watery. I was on my back, the world spinning. The lights above flashed like stars. I gasped for air, and it burned down my throat as it went. I propped myself up on my elbows, and glared at him. My ribs sparked with minor pain as he sauntered closer to me. The tall, muscular giant looked down on me.

“You are a weak little girl, aren’t you?” He bared his teeth at me. “It was foolish of you to challenge me. I will always win. Even the King’s Warrior couldn’t beat me. How could you?”

“Because I’m the Warrior’s Daughter.” His eyes bulged out with wonder and curiosity. I took his surprise to my advantage.

I pushed myself up.

I ran, and slammed my foot into his neck.

His head hit the ground with a satisfying thud. He got back up, on all fours, trying to regain control. I brought my foot down, and he collapsed under my boot. I leaned down to him, grabbed his neck, and twisted it around. The crack echoed up through my arm and into my neck. I stood up, looking down at him. Waiting for him to stand up. But he didn’t.

“Not so weak now.” I c****d my eyebrow. “Stop pretending, get up. If you are the, oh-so-unbeatable warrior,” I whispered to him. His empty eyes just stared up at me. A single stream of blood poured out of his mouth. The sand stained red beneath him. I smiled.

Not pretending. Dead. I whirled around on my heel, and faced the audience. Silence cloaked the room. Many of their jaws went slack. They gave so much money on a man who was beaten by a young teenager. No one expected that. They laughed at me when I challenged him. It was me who was laughing now.

“My payments, please.” I said to the silent crowd. A stumbling young boy carried a tray, filled with gold and silver coins that were bet on him. I smiled at the stash.

As I walked back to my booth, my pockets sufficiently heavier. I grabbed the cup in front of me, and threw it back. My ribs still ached from the hard impact. There was going to be a bruise, maybe some broken ribs. I continued to rub at my sore chest, when the barmaid came to refill my jug of ale. The tavern’s noise returned to normal, the sound making my head pound. I massaged in between my eyebrows in discomfort.

My hand began to shake violently. Not again. I will never leave you. We will always be a family. My breathing came out shakily. We are here to witness the execution of Alice Janadexiand. My hand didn’t stop shaking. Goodbye Father. I reached out and poured another cup of ale. I downed it in one big gulp. The warmth from the alcohol stirred in my abdomen.

Soon enough, a hooded figure took the seat across from me.

“That was quite impressive.” His husky, baritone voice vibrated the table. He slid a pouch across the table. I took it, and pulled the strings outward. Inside, twenty gold pieces waited for me to claim them. I shoved the pouch into my satchel. My fingers intertwined themselves in the chain of my mother’s locket.

“He could’ve been the strongest man in the Empire, and he would’ve lost to me anyways.”

“And why is that,” He paused. “Azu—” I slammed my cup down on the table, rattling it more than his voice.

“Because he thought I was weak.” He almost said it. He knew it. I poured myself another cup and threw back the shot. The alcohol burned down my throat. I tried not to cringe. He smiled a bit.

“Do you plan to go back to Plurium anytime soon?”

I straightened in my seat. My hand at my locket stopped. “Why Plurium?”

“To visit some graves.” He smiled so innocently.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Suddenly, the noise of the tavern didn’t seem as loud. “Which graves? There are many in Plurium. Many of which I don’t even know their name.”

“Two people. With the family name of Janadexiand.”

I sat up straighter. “How do you know about them?”

“I have connections.” I raised my eyebrows, and cleared my throat.

“So I assume you don’t like business transactions without knowledge.” He nodded. I sighed loudly. “Well, knowledge is very powerful.”

“That it is.” His eyes danced around me, eyeing me like a artifact. “What I want to know, is how you got yourself into this mess.” He gestured up and down my body. I pressed my back into my booth seat, as if to get as far away from him as possible. The man played with the ring around the finger on his left hand, a wedding ring.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“How did a young, pretty girl, like yourself, turn up a brutal killer?” His smile brought a chill to my arms.

“How do you know that I wasn’t just born bloodthirsty?” I swirled the alcohol in my cup before, again, throwing it back.

“You were made to be a killer. You weren’t born one.” His finger circled the lip of his cup.

“You’re right,” I placed my empty shot on the table. “I was not a killer before.” I leaned in closer to his face, closing the distance between us. “I was the victim.” I fell back into my seat. “I guess things turn themselves around.” Silence fell between us. I continued to swirl the alcohol in my cup, watching the ripples fold outward. The waves bounced back against the walls of the cup.

It was he who broke the silence. “How old are you?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I told you, I don’t like business transactions with knowledge.”

I glared at him. He was prying. He wanted to know who I was. What I did before. But I wasn’t going to let him find out. “Our business transaction is over. You have nothing to ask me further.” He gave me a slight nod.

“Thank you for doing business with me.” He said. I flashed him a smile. What he didn’t know then was that the dagger from my sleeve was already coming out into the light. We stood, and he turned to pay the barmaid the tab.

“But before you go,” He turned to face me. I drove the dagger straight through his heart. Right through the second and third ribs. His groan crept its way out of his lips. No one payed attention to the knife up his chest. No one came to his rescue. “You found out who I am. What I do. Where I’m from. And for that you pay the price.” I whispered into his ear before he crumbled to the ground. His red blood gleamed on my knife. “Knowledge is leverage. Leverage has the power to turn tides.” I said to him. “My identity must stay hidden for my survival.” I kneeled down, and wiggled the wedding ring off his limp finger. I slipped it onto my necklace of rings. I shoved the necklace back into my satchel.

“I’m sorry.” I stepped over his unmoving body, and out the door. Not until I was outside did I hear the scream from a young lady.

“He’s dead!” She screamed. And I broke into a run. I ran into the forest. The forest that had stories about people going in, but never coming out. I was the reason for those stories.

Dry leaves crunched under my boot as I ducked under a branch. Soon, a big fence loomed over me, shadowing my face. I swung myself over, cursing as I fell on my bad ankle. I’ll have to set that ankle or it can get worse. Pain still sparking in my ribs and ankle, I hobbled over to the small tent that sat far from the fence surrounding it. My arm started to quiver. No. Please no.

I collapsed inside, the hard ground flashing pain through my body. I will never leave you, my daughter. I saw Crimson hovering above my dead parents. ‘You’re next, girl. Soon, you will be able to join them.’

I screamed out of my vision. I opened my eyes to the familiar surrounding. The huge interior was filled with books, a small bed, a cozy chair, and a small kitchenette. I thanked myself once again for befriending a witch all those years ago. Her magic was the one that created this tent, a small portable shelter, with a huge and comfortable interior.

I plopped into the cozy chair, and unstrapped my boot. My ankle was starting to swell up, leaving a purple blur of colour on my skin. I reached for my medicine kit, placed conveniently next to my chair. I mashed up leaves of the Asgendar plant, making a paste for my ankle. I rubbed it on, and wrapped it in cloth. I chucked off my other boot, letting my sore feet breathe for a while. I stood up, stretched out my also very sore muscles, and clattered all my weapons into my storage chest. I took out the bags of coins, and spread out all my earnings. Coin after coin, clinking together as I count them. I sigh in satisfaction after counting. It was just enough for supplies for the next few weeks. As an assassin, injuries come quite often and my medicine runs out very quickly. I pushed aside the flaps of the entrance of the tent, and step outside.

The cold breeze kissed my face and neck, sending shivers down my arms. The grass was soft beneath my bare feet. The moon is high in the dark sky, just past midnight. I leaned against a tree, hiding in the shadows, when a hand clamped over my waist. The hands pulled me back.

I thrashed around, trying to gain knowledge on what the hell was going on. It was a man, around the same height as me, and his hands were calloused. I drove my elbow into his stomach, his groan echoed around the trees. I spun around, my arms already up in front of me, to see the familiar midnight hair and narrow shoulders. I let my arms fall to my sides.

“What do you want, Millard?” Millard Frayard. He’s a kitchen boy at the Palace, who worked for our King. I knew him as kids, but when I left school, I never saw him again. Until I was hired for an assassination attempt on Millard’s father. I couldn’t kill my friend’s father. So I helped smuggle his father out of the country, away from the one who wanted him dead. Millard refused to let go of the ‘debt’, as he calls it, that I did for his family.

“I wanted to know if you’re safe.” He said, rubbing his ribs.

I crossed my arms, and said “You know you don’t have to constantly check on me.”

He sat up, still massaging his stomach. Millard rolled back his shoulders, and sat up into a squat. “I have to know. Every time you tell me you have an assassination, I’m afraid I’ll never see you again.”

I uncrossed my arms, and slowly spun in a circle. “I’m fine alright? I’m not dead, I’m not dragging a limp. I’m fine.”

“You liar.” He took a step closer to me. I c****d my head to the side.

“I’m not lying. I really am fine.” He took another step.

Millard shoved me to the ground. I fell on the bad ankle again. Cursing aloud, I gripped my throbbing ankle. He knelt in front of me. You were saying? He didn’t open his mouth, but I knew what he wanted to say.

I continued to hold onto my injured ankle. “Fine. It’s just a twisted ankle.”

“Did you set it? Use the Asgandar plant?”

“I did. All right? I’m fine!” He held it out his hand, and I took it gingerly. He pulled me to my feet. I untied my hair from its braid and shook out the leaves entangled in the strands.

“You’re really pretty with your hair down,” Millard mused dreamily. I shot him a glare. “Sorry.” I shook my head.

“We talked about this. We can be friends, but nothing more. I’m not someone who can be easily loved.”

I turned and walked back into my tent. It was a few moments of silence until I heard him say, “You don’t know how amazing you are, Alexandria.” That’s the name I told Millard all those years ago. Names are powerful, I never let anyone know my real name. Not Millard, not Arian, not Karlen. “You have absolutely no idea. I wish you did. I wish you could love yourself, I wish I wasn’t the only one who didn’t see you as a monster. You are far from a monster. You are my princess.” I heard his footsteps melt away. A princess? I am The Assassin. I flopped onto the bed, my ribs still sore from the fight. I tried to fall asleep, but Millard’s words just kept echoing in my mind. No matter how hard I tried to shut it out.