Kilig's eyes went from her to Nimdja restlessly. He was the junior member of the team and was waiting for their decisions. Nimdja pondered, then looked at the young man.
"You're a good target boy." Kilig nodded as Nimdja half-smiled. "But how do you score at target practice?"
"A hundred percent." Kilig proudly straightened his back. "Acharya Saif is the best archer in the Guild."
Nimdja chuckled. "I know." He turned to Guisarme. "The close approach obviously doesn't work. What do you think?"
"Even if we all throw our knives and brass wheels at Rakshasa at the same time, it's risky." Guisarme glanced at her own bow and quiver. She looked at Kilig's determined expression and Nimdja's thoughtful face.
She slowly nodded. "It will have to do. Arrows or throwing spears will be safer."
"I think, since we're dealing with a not-completely-Human being, that we should bend the Guild's rules," Nimdja said. "If we want to avenge Francisca's death, we'll have to use poisoned arrows."
"But Acharya Saif dumped his previous apprentice because he wanted to learn poisoned weapons!" Kilig protested.
"Abhaya wanted to specialize in poisoned weapons," Nimdja corrected. "It's cowardly, and as a rule we don't use them on men. They do use them in Agharek, though. And, like I said, we're bending the rules because we're dealing with a half-blood."
"Imagine he turns into a dragon, Kilig," Guisarme added. "Your noose would be useless and daggers too. I think we should bring our pole-arms to finish him if the poisoned arrows aren't enough."
Nimdja nodded. Both stared at wide-eyed Kilig who reluctantly agreed.
Nimdja grinned and put one hand on his shoulder.
"I'm very proud of you, my son. You were very still and did an excellent job today."
Kilig averted his eyes. "Thank you," he muttered.
Guisarme put her arms around him and pulled him closer.
"I'm proud of you, my dear boyfriend," she teased. "You managed to keep your manhood! I should try it some day!"
Kilig blushed and glared at her. She giggled and let him go.
"Let's get some sleep." She yawned. "Tomorrow is going to be much worse..."
***
There wasn't any vegetation suitable for an ambush or even an excuse to go on a hunt, so the three assassins went back to the chamberlain, requesting access to the palace's flat roof. Rakshasa wasn't a recluse, so they could try to take him down when he went out onto the streets.
The bulky man was a whole head taller than his men and horses refused to carry him, so he was always on foot. In the mornings he usually went for a walk on the paved road through the village to the river and back.
The chamberlain told them arrows didn't kill him, but he'd never considered poisoned arrows. Guisarme had managed to find some venomous herbs and berries, and she prepared a poison in which they dipped all their arrow points. The view from the terraced roof was perfect up to the river – except it was a long shot to hit the lord in front of the barge.
Rakshasa was strolling back towards the palace. He was two steps ahead of his escort of assorted guards, and his servants carried goods downloaded from a barge. His smile was pleased and Guisarme felt his relaxed state.
She nodded at Nimdja and Kilig and they took aim. Three arrows flew towards the lord and hit his chest. He stopped, surprised, screamed in anger and ripped them off with one hand, glaring at the archers who shot again and again until he had a dozen arrows sticking out of his body. At that point he had stopped to try to get rid of them and was marching towards the palace, cursing loudly.
Guisarme, Kilig and Nimdja retired to the end of the terrace and dipped their brass wheels into the poison. When Rakshasa emerged from the spiral staircase, they promptly spun the brass wheels on their finger and hurled them at the furious man.
His fury was barely slowed by the ugly gashes on his legs as three more poisoned brass wheels hit him. With a roar, he started taking off arrows and wheels stuck to his body, slowly coming to a stop to get rid of them all, glaring at the three assassins who were hoping the poison would make him crumble.
Guisarme felt his pain and anger, then a surge of Fire magic. The dying half-blood screamed and turned into a red dragon the size of two elephants. It opened his wings, but couldn't lift itself off the ground.
Guisarme cursed under her breath. She dipped the blade of her pole-arm in the poison and rushed forward. The wounds could not be seen on the dragon's body, but the poison was coursing through his veins. The change of shape had taken Rakshasa by surprise and he didn't know how to handle his new form.
"Guisarme!" Nimdja called, alarmed.
"He doesn't know how to spit fire!" she shouted back. "Let's finish him, now!"
As she charged the wounded beast, she heard the footsteps of the two men behind her. The dragon was clumsy and hurt, but also big. A clawed hand threw her against the terrace trailing, taking her breath away.
She saw Kilig sinking his blade in the dragon's belly, and then the shaft broke. She caught her breath and rushed back to fight while the dragon tried to bite Kilig's head off. Kilig was nimble enough to throw himself to the ground and roll away, but the dragon moved one step forward to meet the three assassins, roaring in frustration.
Panting, Guisarme managed to almost chop off the clawed hand that had sent her flying. Nimdja and Kilig stood their ground, even if Kilig was bleeding and had lost his main weapon.
Then the fiery beast recovered its Human form as it collapsed, panting. Nimdja promptly stuck his pole-arm in Rakshasa's heart. The body twitched twice, then was still.
But then it burst into a magical flame that made Nimdja jump back and Kilig gasp loudly. It eerily flickered for a moment, then vanished, leaving no trace.
Guisarme exhaled in relief, holding her bruised ribs. Now she really hurt everywhere in the quiet after the battle. Kilig collapsed, breathless, his arm bleeding from a close encounter with the dragon's teeth. Luckily it hadn't been cut off. Nimdja knelt next to him to bandage the wound and quickly smiled at Guisarme.
"Well done, Guisarme. We wouldn't have made it without you."
Guisarme nodded and lay on the terrace floor, closing her eyes to catch her breath.
***
The chamberlain took them to Lord Rakshasa's room, where servants weren't allowed. But since he was no more, the chamberlain was bold enough to open the door so the three assassins could find evidence of Francisca's passage.
The stench was unbelievable and the chamberlain rushed to the windows to let in some light and let out the air impregnated with the smell of carcass. The room looked like an ogre's cave – a meat-eating ogre who'd left bones of all sizes around. He'd eaten mostly birds and mice who had dared to visit him, but in a corner Nimdja found much bigger remains.
Kilig stayed by the window, pale and wide-eyed, but Guisarme joined Nimdja. She fell on her knees at the sight of the clothes and jewelry thrown in a heap next to whatever was left of a Human corpse. The demon had eaten it raw in the two days since her dream and there wasn't much left of Francisca.
Guisarme threw up, with Nimdja holding her head. It was impossible to determine how Francisca had been killed. Nimdja requested something to gather the remnants and then they built a funeral pyre in the main square of the village.
Guisarme gathered Francisca's ashes, and then the three of them went on the barge that took them back to Godwalkar. Guisarme slept fitfully on the barge during the night, often reliving the fight with the dragon or seeing Francisca eaten alive by a monster. Her ribs hurt and her mood was gloomy, so she didn't speak much until they reached Godwalkar.
She left Francisca's ashes in the main temple's crypt, then huffed with pain.
"I must have broken my ribs," she finally admitted. "The dragon threw me against the railing, glad it didn't break my back!"
Nimdja nodded. "Kilig's arm needs a healer too. You two better go to the Genn palace, I'll report to Talwar. We'll hold a ceremony in memory of Francisca at the Guild when you
feel better."
"Which may be tomorrow for the physical part," she said. "Genn healers are very good."
"Let's make it the day after tomorrow," Nimdja replied with a half-smile, squeezing Kilig's shoulder.
He waved them good-bye and she turned to Kilig, who was still pale and looked haunted.
"Let's go." She sighed. She couldn't blame him for being upset. She'd never fought a dragon before either. And then entering Rakshasa's room... She held Francisca's golden armbands and bangles to her bosom, her heart tightening in her chest. She'd give the jewelry back to Francisca's family, but she'd never forget her acharya.
They reached the Genn palace and found a healer, one of Guisarme's aunts who spread her hands over their bruises and wounds. Her golden powder magically healed them, but also drained them of strength. They lay side by side in a room of the palace, a little drowsy after a light meal.
"I wanted to thank you for helping and for coming along," Guisarme said, thoughtful. "I thought you couldn't exist without Saif. But you proved me wrong."
"I didn't know I could do that either," he muttered. "But I know what it means to lose your acharya."
"Well, Saif is not dead, is he?"
"It's as if. He's no longer an assassin. What was Francisca like?"
She reminisced about her relationship with Francisca while he listened carefully. They compared their experiences, and then remembered the fight that had brought them to that room.
"I don't want to sleep alone!" he whined, as if realizing his own loss.
"I'll be with you if it makes you feel better," she said. She didn't feel like spending the night alone either. Kilig was revealing himself for the first time, and she liked what she was discovering. The young man was shy but attractive in his own way.
"Um... I don't think we should be here..." he said.
"Why, because I'm not Saif?" she asked, amused.
"It's not proper. We shouldn't..."
"What?"
He blushed. "We shouldn't sleep together," he muttered averting his eyes.
"Oh, come on, Kilig," she teased. "What's wrong with sleeping together?"
He snorted, but soon he nestled against her, his mouth exploring. He was aroused, so she decided to take what she could.
***
The first light of day entered the room and touched the pillows of the bed, gently waking Guisarme from her sleep. She sighed and opened her eyes to see the bed wasn't empty. Kilig was still asleep.
She caressed his smooth cheek, thoughtful. He had proved his worth during their mission, not panicking when Rakshasa had turned into a dragon. Maybe he wasn't just an appendix of his acharya after all. And he was a good lover as well. He was full of surprises!
His hair half-covered his face, so she pulled it back – which startled him awake. Brown eyes stared at her and widened in shock.
"Guisarme! What..." He sat, looking around the spartan room, panting. "Oh my... did we really do what I think we did?" He glanced helplessly at his naked body.
"What do you remember?" she asked with a giggle.
"It's been a wild ride… and I was also lonely... and you were there..." He blushed, unable to look her in the eyes.
"I'm impressed by how good you were. I thought you'd be a virgin."
"Why would you think that?" he asked, puzzled.
She lay on her back, staring at the wooden ceiling. "I know I can't ask too much of Saif's lover."
He gasped and choked on his reply.
"I wasn't a virgin when I met him," he grumbled. "Actually, he saved me from a life of prostitution."
"I see." She glanced at his embarrassment and saw the pain in his eyes again. "So you've been with women before."
He nodded and frowned at her. "Yes, but not since Acharya Saif took me on as an apprentice. And don't even think that you can pin me to any duty. If you're pregnant, it's your business and I don't want to know!"
Startled, she stared at him.
"Is that where Saif is?" she asked cautiously. "With the mother of a child he never knew he had?"
"Yes!" Kilig sat up and threw his hands up in frustration. "He dumped me for a damn woman!"
"Will you tell me exactly what happened?" Guisarme insisted, putting one hand on his shoulder to calm him.
He shook his head and sighed heavily.
"When we met that woman, she said Acharya Saif was her son's father," he answered absentmindedly. "Saif stared at the boy and then told me it was time I started working on my own."
"You know, maybe it's time you look for other mentors," she said. "I mean, I know you're an accomplished assassin, but there are still things you could learn..."
He glared at her. "Like what?"
"Like fighting women."
"We don't kill women or children."
"Tell that to Rakshasa."
He snorted in frustration.
"I've wanted to kill that woman who stole my Saif myself," he grumbled.
"I apologize on behalf of all the women of the world," she said, turning her head the other way to hide her smile. Gods, Kilig was obsessed with his acharya! Or maybe madly in love – and totally heartbroken now. Poor Kilig.
Kilig stared at her, suspicious. "It's not funny, Guisarme."
"I'm sorry, what can I say? So, we spent the night together. What are you going to do, kill me?"
"I probably should," he grumbled. "But you're faster and better than me."
She chuckled. "Maybe I had a better teacher, and I didn't fall in love with him. Unlike you."
He glared again, then averted his eyes. "I hope you'll be content with last night and won't come back for more."
She shrugged. "Will do. So, what are you going to do now?"
"I don't know."
"Well, if you don't want to sleep alone, my bed is always available for you."
He hesitated. "Thanks. But I think I've had enough. I'll see you around. And even if you get pregnant..."
"Yes, yes, you made that clear!" She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, I don't get pregnant unless I want to. Perks of being a half-blood."
"Really?" He looked surprised.
"Yes." She smiled at him. "Saif might have some Genn blood because of the color of his eyes, but I'm a real half-blood and I know what I'm saying."
"You have very blue eyes," he said. "Uncommon for a Human."
"And don't forget the pointed ears." She pulled her hair back one to show it off.
He smiled sheepishly. "Are you sure you're a woman?"
"I'm female," she assured. "The rest..." She shrugged. "How many women assassins do you know?"
"I've heard of only five."
"Exactly. Was the woman who stole your Saif an assassin?"
"Uh... no."
"So you can spend one night with me. I'm not that kind of woman!"
He smiled against his will. "You're stubborn, Guisarme!"
"You bet I am. Will you avoid me from now on, or are we still friends?"
He rolled his eyes. "Still friends," he conceded, offering his hand.
"Thank you, my dear boyfriend of one mission." She grinned. "Will I see you at Francisca's memorial?"
"Of course." He nodded. "She's a heroine. I'll be there."
He quickly dressed and left.
Guisarme sighed. Sleeping with a heartbroken man wasn't much fun, so parting wasn't too bad after all. He'd been a decent companion during the mission and a pleasant lover for an hour or two, but she wasn't in love. And she knew he was still obsessed with Saif. But then hopefully some work would become available and take his mind off of his lover, and everything that had happened from the day Saif had dumped him.
She wondered when Saif had had a woman. He'd always looked more interested in men. But then, maybe he was drunk, and some maid had taken advantage of him.
She ran her hand in her dark-blond mane. Men were complicated enough without having to deal with men who loved men. She better move on too. Time to honor her acharya one last time and then she could be off
to a new adventure.
Acknowledgments
Beta-readers Camila, Duane, the Rome Regulars and Editor Tricia Kristufek. This short story is also included in "Saif&Kilig" or "Kilig the Sword – part 1" and in the free anthology with various authors "Wyrd Worlds 2"
***
Barbara G.Tarn had an intense life in the Middle Ages that stuck with her through the centuries. She prefers swords to guns, long gowns to mini-skirts, and even though she buried the warrior woman, she deplores the death of knights in shining chainmail. She likes to think her condo apartment is a medieval castle, unfortunately lacking a dungeon to throw noisy neighbors and naughty colleagues in. Also known as the Lady with the Unicorns, these days she prefers to add a touch of fantasy to all her stories, past and present – when she’s not wandering in her fantasy world of Silvery Earth or in her Star Minds futuristic universe. She’s a writer, sometimes artist, mostly a world-creator and story-teller – stories comprise shorts, novels and graphic novels. Her novella “The Hooded Man” has received an Honorable Mention at the Writers of the Future contest. Used to multiple projects (a graphic novel is always on the side of the prose), she writes, draws, ignores her day job and blogs at: https://creativebarbwire.wordpress.com
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