Assassins

Sinister forces plot something terrible that could bring chaos to Northmarch

23.

Assassins

 

Aedric decided to follow Duke Eleazar’s suggestion and try to get some rest after the exhausting day.  The spurs strapped to his bare feet were painfully rubbing against his heels, so, like most of the other new knights in the room, he knelt down and began unbuckling them.

 

As he unstrapped the spurs, he was nearly run over by a pair of brown robed men who seemed to be hurriedly moving across the room.   As they passed, glaring down at him, he sensed something odd.   Though they were dressed as monks of the Order of St. Kinnis, he had the strong, almost sickening feeling that they were evil.   By the time he looked up at them they had dodged him and continued hurrying on toward their mission.  

 

But from the vantage point of kneeling down to remove his spurs, he had caught a glimpse of their feet from beneath their robes.   They seemed to be wearing some sort of leather armor and he thought he had also seen a hint of metal from the tip of a sword scabbard that was concealed under one of their robes.

 

But monks of St. Kinnis carried no weapons.  

 

Nobody else seemed to notice the two men in the chaos of the banqueting room, but Aedric stood and glanced toward where their trajectory was carrying them.  At the other end of the hall, the Queen was speaking to some of the new knights and their family from another duchy.   Her back was turned to the two men in monks’ robes.  

 

Something isn’t right, he thought to himself, and he jumped to his feet and hurried after the pair.

“Aedric?” His foster brother asked, seeing his intense expression as he passed.   He motioned for him to follow him and increased his speed to a trot to try to catch up with the pair.  

 

They began to separate as if planning to come at Eioldth from two different angles and both seemed to be reaching into their robes.  

 

“Hey!”  He yelled, as he closed in, yet neither one even turned his way, but instead seemed to move more quickly.  

 

The Queen had not heard his yell in the noise of the room.

 

“HEY!   You two monks!   Hey!”  He yelled, and others in the room turned to him, but not the two robed figures.  

 

Aedric broke into a run just as the man directly behind the Queen pulled out a wicked looking dagger with a black blade, which seemed to have some fluid dripping from it.   He raised it high directly behind the Queen.

“EIOLDTH!!! BEWARE!!! BEHIND YOU!! ASSASSIN!” Aedric screamed at the very top of his lungs, but he didn’t wait for a reaction from the Elven Queen.  

He dove onto the back of the assassin, attempting to pin the arms of the man as his momentum carried them forward.   The assassin wasn’t prepared for his tackle and they fell forward at Eioldth’s feet in a pile.  

His tackle had stunned the killer and Aedric slammed his fists into the side of the assassin’s face which sent his head smacking into the floor violently.

 

But before he could do anything else, the other assassin’s boot rammed into his face, knocking him backwards with a spray of blood from his nose.   Aedric heard someone scream, but he only could focus on a dark-eyed human who leapt upon him with a snarl.  

 

He grabbed for his sword, but the assassin had a quicker weapon ready and plunged a long black dagger into his shoulder three times. 

His right arm went cold and numb immediately, but Aedric pounded his left fist into the killer’s nose, knocking him back enough for him to free his sword.  

The room was spinning and his head roared as if he was in the middle of a hurricane, but summoning all of his might, he thrust the sword forward at the assassin.    His blade at first was deflected by the man’s heavy leather armor, but Aedric felt himself quickly losing consciousness and with grim determination pushed himself forward, clutching the sword grip with both hands.   His body weight helped drive the sword deep into the man’s chest.  

As Aedric felt himself fading and his pupils dilated, he heard the killer’s gurgling death gasp.   He yielded to blackness, satisfied that at least he’d stopped the man before he died.