Chapter 1: Customer

Chapter 1: Customer

‘You’re making a horrible mistake!’ the fat man at my door says, ‘Are you just going to let such an opportunity go?’.

‘I told you, killing the king isn’t worth any amount of gold, especially if you are planning on taking his place’.

‘You’ll regret this! Or my name isn’t….’ before he can finish, I slam the door shut in his face. Guessing from the crunching sound and the excessive cursing that followed, I most likely broke his nose.

‘You made the right choice’ Elizabeth says.

‘That man’s a lunatic’ I say, ‘he thinks money can buy the world, someone had to prove him wrong’.

Elizabeth giggles softly, ‘I’m just happy you’re not going on a suicide mission. Come, food’s ready’.

She groans a bit as she enters the kitchen, ‘Darling, are you alright?’ I ask, holding her.

‘I’m fine’ she smiles, ‘It’s just the baby kicking’.

‘You should sit down once in a while. Here, I’ll get you to a chair’.

She pushes me away from her as she leans on the table. ‘I said I’ll be fine, thanks’.

‘Very well’ I say, disappointed. We both sit down at the table and eat the potatoes she’s prepared.

‘Even if the king were to die, kings aren’t elected,’ I say, ‘there’s no way he’d become king’.

‘The king has no children, no one to take over the throne, if the king were to die too soon they’d have to elect someone’ Elizabeth suggests.

‘Or a hostile takeover’.

After dinner I hear something sliding along the floor. I go to the front door to discover a letter on the ground. It’s a simple design, most likely from an ordinary peasant. Notes from powerful people often look very different.

                   For the assassin

　　Dear sir,

　　I am in need of your assistance. I’m a farmer, north of the village.

Each night, I hear terrible growling outside, and the next day,

I find that one of my sheep is gone.

I fear that perhaps a werewolf is responsible for this.

Soon, I’ll be out of a job.

        Please, good sir, I beg you. Come quickly! I’ll pay you as best I can.

I quickly explain the situation to Elizabeth and go to the stable. I open a chest and a wide array of weapons is revealed in front of me. A belt of knives, some silver, some ordinary, a potion of flammable liquid, some rope, a bow, a sword. I load the necessary items on my horse and leave the rest behind. I kiss my wife goodbye and carry on my way.

My horse breathes uneasily underneath me as we stride towards the farm. His warm breath creates small, puffy clouds in the cold evening air.

‘Easy there, Toric’ I say as I gently pat his neck.

He calms down slightly, but his ears still stand up straight, moving left and right like those of a cat. I know from experience that when a horse is stressed out, bad things will happen. He’ll either abandon me when I need him most, throw me off his back at the worst possible moment, or, worst of all, he knows something I don’t.

‘Thank goodness!’ the old farmer exclaims as I slowly gallop towards him. ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t get here in time!’.

‘Where is it?’ I ask grimly.

‘He’ll probably be here in about half an hour, sir’ the excitement and happiness in his voice has been replaced with sternness. I have that effect on people sometimes, turning their happiness into something else. Except with Elizabeth. It’s funny how even in these circumstances I can’t get my mind off of her. The memory of her laugh brings a smile to my face.

‘Are you alright, sir?’ the old man asks. I look up, realizing I probably looked very stupid smiling at the ground. I unload my horse and the farmer shows me his sheep.

‘I’ll handle this’ I say, ‘go back inside, old man. Or you’ll get sick’. The man straightens himself to say something, but quickly realizes it’s best to just do as I say. He turns around and walks inside. First, I look for footprints, or at least something to identify the monster with. The prints are slightly larger than those of a wolf, a werewolf it is. Now that I know which creature I must fight, I better get ready.