\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/858741-Prolog
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by Dr. D Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Book · Fantasy · #2055503
Becoming a legend is just the beginning
<<< Previous · Entry List · Next >>>
#858741 added August 30, 2015 at 7:27pm
Restrictions: None
Prolog
The room was lit by a simple bronze oil lamp on the desk. The fireplace glowed dimly from near gone coals. The air had a slight chill. The papers on the desk were in neat stacks. Trivial matters never made it to this desk, if it was here it demanded Dormaqs personal attention. He was drafting a reply to Baron Sorrel in the Duchies who wanted a rival eliminated. Dormaq snickered, the Baron may reconsider when he sees the cost. His target was from a well placed family and it was a delicate matter balancing all the angles to keep his political influence strong. It helped that most everyone feared the Assasins Guild and would not openly move against it, but it was still prudent to keep the local powers with a feeling they had control. Assasination, protection, it was all the same to him. Very few realized that he was also the head of the Zul in this part of the world and that he kept tabs on pulse of the peoples of this world through his assassins and their reports. Recently some reports from back east have been very disturbing and could not be ignored any longer.
A knock at his door. He waited a few moments he said “Enter”. A young woman came in casually taking in every detail. She was dressed in black pants with a knife strapped to her right leg. Her pants were tucked into her boots so that they rolled over. The boots were hard leather with a fold of soft leather pleated on top to mimic style, but in practice could be wrapped under the boot and tied to muffle the sounds, she most likely had a knife or two in her boots. Her black shirt had billowing sleeves loose at the wrists. Her black vest was worked Grok leather, supple yet difficult to get a knife through. The long black hair up in a bun as was her style most likely concealing needles. Tula was perhaps one of his best successes, not trained with the rest, but by a retired assassin in the old ways.
Her first night at the Tomb, I made sure that everyone would respect her. I deliberately said in front of all the assassins in the courtyard “YOU! Your slutting whore ways will not be tolerated here, you are on thin ice, if I hear even the slightest complaint from any of these men, your life is forfeit.” Tula looked at me questioning but not shocked. The rest of the men also looked questioning at her as that usually meant a death sentence, but small group in the corner elbowed each other smiling sensing opportunity. I knew that was going to be an interesting night and was not disappointed. I made sure the all the section leaders and were at a meeting with me during meal time. By the reports she sat alone at a table eating when Jek and his two buddies approached.
“Pleka, time to pay out so you stay in good standing, we don’t want to complain about you.”
She kept on eating and said “I don’t think so, but I don’t have money anyway”.
“Oh darlin, it’s your curvy coin I’m after”
By this time all in the room everyone in the room was glancing her way, including Turlock in the corner table reserved for the elite assasins.
Tula looked up with moon eyes and said demurely “ I may resist… a little, are you up for it?”
Jek laughed “It won’t help, I get excited when women resist and I don’t think you’ll like it when I get excited, just make it easy on yourself “ He then put his hand on her shoulder. That is when the eye witness accounts got a little hazy as she moved so fast. She shoved the table forward as she turned and put her eating knife up his jaw into his head so hard he was lifted off the ground as a second knife came out stabbing his groin. Both knifes came out quickly as he was on his way down and were plummeted into his chest between the ribs, one right through the heart. She held him there for barest of moments looking into his shocked eyes glazing over then pulled the knifes out and as he went to his knees she took her foot and shoved the body backwards as she said loudly “ Just like a man, no foreplay and over in a moment.” Ignoring the laugh from the backtable , she raised her head to look at the other two and took a step towards them and said “He was not satisfied with my service, but did you want to try yourselves, as I really don’t want complaints.” They stiffened, knifes already in there hands, as if ready to attack, yet stopped when they heard Turlock coming from the backtable yell “Hold”. Tula did a quick glance at the room that was at full alert, not a good sign in a room full of assassins. She was wandering how many she would have to kill, when Turlock came up grinning, and he rarely grinned. He looked her square in the eye and said “Training is at dawn, I will send Prak to knock on your door before then. I will personally clean up this mess. Welcome to the Tomb.” And as the tension melted she could breathe a sigh of relieve.
When Dormaq got the reports he knew she would thrive here.
“Sit” Dormaq said, but she chose to stand behind the chair. He arose and walked to the corner of the room where it was darkened. She moved the chair a small amount yet he could see that she stood casually looking at him. He smiled inwardly. She knew exactly what irritated him, she knew how much I love control. Tula loved to push boundaries and I let her at times. She was one of my best and probably as close to a daughter as I had now, but she also knew I would not hesitate to eliminate anything that got in my way or failed to be useful. Occasionally I need to make a lesson or others will think I am getting soft. In my position there are always others around looking to move up and murder is the usual way. If you show weakness, it brings out the beasts within. Just last year a lieutenant decided to make a play for power. His eyes are preserved in a jar on my desk for any that come to me to see.
“Well, you took your time” and with emphasis “Pleka” She stiffened ever so slightly at being called that word by him. Pleka meant in the old tongue fractured and in their line of work meant that if you weren’t fixed soon, you would be terminated, literally. She would know that I was not pleased.
“Do you know why you were called?” She came from behind the high back chair letting her hand glide along its ridge. “I assume it is about Moslin, the Duke Macklins second son, he has been quit a rebellious shit against” then she said with mock sincerity “your most faithful client”.
“Yes the Macklins do have a penchant for repeat business, and I have already sent Timuhr to take care of it.”
“Timuhr, humph” “He has the finesse of a jackel, but with that family, finesse is not what is needed, they need a bigger cemetery”.
“Yes, very true and we will continue to help with that residency as long as it profits us.” Dormaq turned and looked directly at her and said “What do you know of the Sturn mountain girl?” She could tell he was deadly serious now and she thought for a moment before she replied, was this a test?
“She is some sort of hero, who if you were to believe the stories, practically beat back the Kurls single handedly. Wonderful propaganda to fuel the Sturns need to bolster their pathetic troops.
Dormaq still stared at her.
Tala laughed lightly “Do you want to recruit her or perhaps take and sell her to the Kingdoms so they can parade the savage girl in their courts”
Domaq continued. “My contacts in the Sturn capital assure me she is real. I have already sent someone to test her at their festival a week from now”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Well my dear, I have two things for you to do for me. The first is to deliver a message to General Tog of the Kurl to tell him payment is due now that their war is over. If he refuses, then cut off the pinky of his second son and leave.” He paused.
“and the second thing?”
“I suspect that the mountain girl will still be alive when you travel through, kill her. I will send a team of four with you to get the job is done.”
Tula raised her eyebrow “Unusual, so you think she is that good or you have someone that hates her with deep pockets or…” she started walking back to the chair and sat down “ this is personal”
Dormaq didn’t think that he had given anything away, but he needed to deflect the direction she was thinking.
“Yes, it is personal, I have not spent the years heading up this guild and building up our revenue only to find that some wood brat inspired nations to believe in some prophecy and mess it up with wars we can’t control. It is a preemptive strike to keep life simple.”
“Ahhh,” she said “seems like a simple task, with lots of fresh air and country bumpkins. Even if she is good the four alone should be able to do the job. I assume I am there just to be insurance but mainly to quill the general as I trust he knows that when the Black Arrow is sent it is urgent.”
“Quite so, and I can’t let him get to comfortable. The need is not to urgent so I will send you in three weeks, enough time for you to finish your last assignment. You may go now” With a smooth movement she rose and went out the door.
He picked up a stack of recent reports to go through and sat down. He mused for a moment that Tula would need to be inducted into Zul soon. He wanted her to lead an uncomplicated life, perhaps his only softness in his life, but that would end soon. He sighed, with this latest girl, the prophecy may be coming sooner than we thought.
Outside the door Tula paused and thought ‘the game is on’.
© Copyright 2015 Dr. D (UN: tulkasormal at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Dr. D has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
<<< Previous · Entry List · Next >>>
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/858741-Prolog