Authors: Usman Ijaz
They rode harder, nearing in on their
destination. And the feeling within Adrian, that feeling that told him they
were going to break like a too-taught rope, only grew. Soon he could see some
strange white emblems on the banners, but couldn’t discern what they were. He
asked the Legionnaire.
“The Doves of Gale,” Alexis told him with some
pride.
As they drew closer Adrian saw a large river
that intersected the road neatly, a broad band reflecting the sun’s fading
light. The river was wide, its waters rushing south. A large stone bridge
spanned the water. The bridge was perhaps a hundred feet in length and half as
much in width, with small stone walls to prevent anyone from falling over.
Traffic flowed in and out of the city in a great surge by that bridge, the
incoherent babble of the people overriding that of the river some twenty feet
below.
We're finally here
,
he thought, and tried to shake loose the uneasiness that clung to him like a
second skin.
They rode their horses onto the bridge, going as
fast as the flow of people allowed. The throng crowded them in together, until
they were forced to travel in a single line. Adrian studied the rest of the
people from his vantage point. He saw a few wagons crossing - though it didn’t
look as though they were moving fast - and people pushing their way through.
His eyes passed over two priests in the black veils and robes of their order,
an old farmer sitting atop his wagon and guiding a piebald through the river of
people, roamed over a man with a small girl in hand, and rested on Alexis
before him. The man stared at the city before them with a tense air about him.
Adrian looked to his right, at the sun which sat low in the horizon like a dim
fireball, casting a fading orange light onto the world and stretching their
long shadows to one side. His eyes traveled to the large buildings beyond the
bridge.
Safety
, his mind cried, and his heart tried to believe it.
Alexis suddenly cried out in pain and toppled
from his horse. Adrian's eyes darted to where he lay. The Legionnaire had one
hand wrapped around his left arm, and Adrian could see the red flow of blood
run through his fingers. He quickly looked around, trying to pick out the
attackers, but it was impossible in that sea of faces. He dismounted from his
horse and ran to Alexis’s side.
“They’re here!” Connor shouted frantically as he
leapt off his horse, eyes wide and darting all around them.
“Calm down!” Leah cried as she followed closely
behind. Her own voice sounded on the edge of hysteria. “What happened?”
Adrian barely acknowledged them. He looked at
the Legionnaire, lying on the ground. "Alexis, are you--"
The Legionnaire’s head jerked up, pain clear on
his face, and he shouted to Leah. “Get them away! Run! Hide!"
Adrian looked around again but the flow of
people was too thick for him to make out anything. Some of the passing folk
looked their way, but hurried on at the sight of the wounded man. Leah grabbed
him by the shoulder.
“Come! We must go!”
“No!” Adrian cried out. “We can’t leave him
behind.”
“Go!” Alexis ordered harshly as he struggled to
his feet. He made his way to his horse and reached into his blanket rolls with
his good arm. Leah still tugged at Adrian’s shoulder, but he didn’t want to
leave the Legionnaire. A part of him felt that leaving Alexis meant leaving any
safety they had.
A man garbed in black suddenly stepped out from
the passing throng. For the briefest moment Adrian felt hope, thinking that the
priest meant to help them. Then the man kicked Alexis hard in the stomach.
Adrian saw the cold eyes above the veil, and understood then there was no
kindness at all in that gaze. Alexis was thrown back, managing to pull out one
gun and having it go off on him. The sound was like thunder in the midst of the
prattle of the passersby. There was stark silence for a second, and then a
woman gave a shrill cry.
“Gun! He has a gun!”
But the crowd was already breaking like a dam.
Some small instinct made Adrian reach towards his horse as the animal galloped
away with the other mounts amidst the chaos. Then something struck him hard
from behind and he was sent staggering to the side, his ears ringing. He could
faintly hear Leah and Connor’s struggles with whoever had blindsided them.
Adrian leaned against the stone railing, fighting to remain conscious.
2
Alexis tried to raise his gun as the man
advanced on him. The man caught his arm in a vice and twisted it severely
overhead and behind him. The gun dropped from Alexis’s hand and the man kicked
it away. Alexis tried to elbow the assassin with his injured arm, wincing at
the flaring pain the movement evoked, and was stopped short by a knee to his
spine. He fell screaming in anguish. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Leah
batted away by the other assassin.
Only two?
he thought in wonder.
Where’s
Adrian?
Then the assassin was bearing down on him, knife in hand.
Alexis caught the man’s arm as it came down, the
knife hanging inches from his face. The man had cast aside his veil. Alexis
stared into a merciless face as he fought to keep the blade away. The assassin
had the advantage, however, and as he bore down with more force, Alexis watched
the tip of the knife draw closer. Out of desperation he jerked the man’s arm
toward him and rolled aside, throwing the assassin to the ground. He hurried to
his feet and rushed at the assassin. A swift motion was the only warning he
had. He attempted to dodge the knife, and collapsed to the ground with a
painful cry as it buried itself into his left thigh instead of his abdomen. He
clutched at the hilt and grit his teeth against the pain. As the assassin
strolled towards him, Alexis forced his eyes open and looked around for his
gun. He didn’t see it. He feared it had been kicked in the river.
“You have led us on a merry chase,” said the man
in a harsh voice. “But it ends now.”
Alexis attempted to stand, but for his troubles
received only a hard fist to the jaw that sent him to his knees in a surge of
pain. As the man grabbed him by the hair and cruelly hauled him up, Alexis
gritted his teeth and drew out the knife from his leg. His scream as he slashed
at the man was half defiance and half pain. The assassin leapt back quickly,
but not so quick as to avoid the attack. The knife cut him from his left hip
and up the side of his ribs. The man gave a cry of pain and surprise. His face
grew even colder as he glanced at the wound. Alexis attacked with the small
dagger again, his attack slowed by his injured leg. He found that he could
barely stand let alone move.
The assassin wrenched the knife out of his hand
with ease. Alexis rammed his fist into the man’s face then, driving him back.
He limped after him, feeling the warm flow of blood down his arm and leg, and
not caring for it was a distant sensation. Even the pain was beginning to
become a distant ache. The assassin’s dark robe was soaked on the right. His
movements had slowed as he leaned in on his injured side, but Alexis was still
more than wary of him. He watched as the assassin's hand crept into the inside
folds of his sleeve, and threw himself to the side as a knife flew out. He
scrambled to his feet, wincing at the bright reminder of the wound in his left
thigh, and saw only a swift movement of the assassin’s hand before something
soft struck him in the face. It exploded in a burst of white powder, and almost
at once his sight was reduced to near blindness. Alexis rubbed at his eyes vigorously,
but it did nothing. He could see nothing but white, with the dimmest outlines
before him.
Suddenly he was kneed in the face and thrown
back.
3
Connor knew the girl. She didn’t look the same
now, with icy determination across her unveiled face and dressed in a priest’s
robe, but it was the same girl he had shown how to play marbles. He realized
this as he stood frozen to the spot, looking on as Iris kicked Leah in the ribs
and then struck her hard across the face. The bard went down like a sack of
oats. And then Iris turned to face him. Connor could see at once that she was
about to dash towards him, and how the first clear sight of him stopped her in
her tracks.
You
, she
mouthed in disbelief.
Connor took half a step towards her. “Iris --
what are you doing?”
“Connor ...” she said uncertainly, and then
firmly, “Get out of here, Connor! While you still can! Run!”
“You’re hurting my friends. Why?”
“That’s what I do, Connor!” she shouted at him
in anger. “I don’t have time to play marbles because I spend my time killing
people!”
“You’re an assassin ...” Her words struck him
harder than the sight of the dagger she held in one hand.
“Run, you fool! You are not the one I want!” Her
eyes slid past him and he followed her gaze to where Adrian lay against the
stone railing.
“No!” he cried, alarmed. “He’s my cousin! You
can’t harm him!”
She shook her head in annoyance and rushed
towards him. Connor looked around for aid, and saw the other assassin beating
Alexis back while the Legionnaire tried vainly to defend himself. He was on his
own. He looked behind him once, saw Adrian’s dazed form leaning on the railing
for support, and braced himself.
He had never punched anyone before, but he swung
now at Iris as hard as he could as she came at him. She side-stepped the blow
easily and kicked him in the back of the knee. She tried to run on to Adrian,
but Connor wheeled around and grabbed her robe and jerked her back. Immediately
he was kicked in the chest and sent rolling back. As he struggled to his feet
he met Iris’s gaze as she stood before him.
“Do not do this, Connor,” she told him, and he
heard the clear reluctance in her voice.
“I can’t let you kill him,” he said as he stood
before her, aware that she stood between Adrian and him. If she went after
Adrian he might not reach her fast enough. “I thought we were friends, Iris.”
"You were never my friend," she
replied in a whisper. Her voice became hard. "I do not need friends! I
have all I need!"
Connor wished she could hear the pain and
uncertainty he heard so clearly in her voice. “I was your friend. I can
still--”
“Stop!” she cried, and then set on him like a
hawk, her hands striking at him all over his body.
Connor found himself thrown back, hurting in
half a dozen places from where Iris's quick blows had struck him. He attempted
to get to his feet, and Iris quickly swept him clear off the ground. Connor
found himself on his back, black spots swimming before his vision. Iris's foot
came to rest on his throat. He met her eyes, stared into their innocent depths,
and watched as they hardened to stone. Her foot began to bear down.
1
Adrian could see it all from where he lay
against the stone railing, and could do nothing but feel helpless. His head
still rung from the blow, and the surrounding world wouldn’t stop drifting in
and out of blackness. His friends were being killed, and he could do nothing
but watch. He turned his head slightly and saw the setting sun. The dim golden
glow it cast was beautiful, spreading over the bridge, over the river, over the
world. It wasn’t a bad sight to see before death. Tears coursed down his smooth
cheeks as he realized how he was beginning to accept the inevitable. Hadn’t he known
this would happen? His eyes drifted from Alexis to Connor, and he tried to
scream out. Connor was trying to get the foot off of him, but Adrian knew that
it wouldn’t stop. Alexis was on his knees, spitting out blood, the man before
him enjoying torturing him before killing him.
Will you let them die?
a part of him demanded.
What can I do?
asked
the boy within him.
Do what you know you must! I can’t let them
die like that!
Adrian did the only thing that came to mind. He
closed his eyes and searched the darkness for that distant source of light. He
was aware of the press for time, but he dared not rush this. That lone light
came to him eventually as it always did if he sought it, often when he didn’t
seek it, always taunting him as it floated before him. He watched as it drew
nearer, not fearing it and not abhorring it either. It stood before him, and
Adrian resisted the urge to simply snatch at it. That would dispel the light,
and any hope he might have.
For a moment he was at a loss for what to do
next, and then feeling that his friends didn’t have the time for him to remain
uncertain, he reached gently toward the light. He feared that it would burst as
it had done in the past, and thus was surprised as a tingling warmth crept into
his hand. With the hope and faith of a child he spoke to the source of that light,
what he believed then to be the source of all the light in the world.
Help
me! I need to save them! Help me! I beg you!
He thought he heard a distant voice speak -
It
is up to you
- but was unsure the next moment. He opened his eyes ... and
stared into Connor’s face as his cousin looked helplessly toward him. His
struggles to remove the foot on his throat had diminished almost to none.