Sicarius (2 page)

Chapter III 

Deep in the land of Incontinence, Ambrose sits around a fire. He is in the middle of the woods, and it is night. He is squatting, poking a fire next to a horse while reading the address of the letter. The front top of the letter reads “To my dearest Aida White” and underneath that, “To the village of Arcanum.” He whispers to himself the wife’s name of the man he killed, “Aida.” He then quickly snaps his eyes in the direction of the slight noise he hears. Lion Adrian steps out of the shadows of darkness knowing that Ambrose is seconds away from striking. 

“Head Lion Ambrose, or should I say Ambrose since you left us.” Adrian drops his hood so Ambrose can see his face more clearly to signal he is no threat and comes in peace. “The king has requested me to take you back.” 

Ambrose looks back at the fire.
This man is not here to talk, he has come for my head,
Ambrose thinks to himself. He quickly drops his stick, the letter, and stands brushing back his robe. He is grasping his sword tightly before these objects hit the floor, ready to fight. 

“There is no need to fight. I assure you, I am not here for your head. Only, I bring a peace offering from the king,” Adrian said while bowing to Ambrose. 

“The king does not want me dead? I suppose this is true for he only sends you and not more. Well, my answer is no. With this said, will you force me back? All Sicarius know my skills surpass all single Sicarius. Now how are you going to take me back alone?” Ambrose says with confidence, glaring at Adrian. 

“The king sent me alone so you would not feel threatened, but yet, he knew I am the only Sicarius skilled enough to get away without getting killed by your hand if you do feel the need to strike. After I have fled your attack, I will be able to return the news of your denial to the king’s request without him sending more to find my body from your answer. It is reassurance, I suppose.” 

“I see. The king is wise.” 

“So I take it your decision is final. You still say no?” 

Ambrose then looks deep into Lion Adrian’s eyes, relaxes, and adjusts his robe to the way it was. “Yes. I still say no.” 

Lion Adrian steps back into the darkness to disappear while placing his hood back on. “So be it.” 

Ambrose acknowledges Lion Adrian has left. He picks the stick and letter back up to continue where he left off, poking endlessly at the fire. Ambrose just cannot help but think,
Why did the king not want my head?
Why was Lion Adrian alone? What was the king up to? Maybe the king wants to know why his best has deserted the Sicarius
. Yet more questions to add. This leaves Ambrose to overthink his true belonging once again. 

When Ambrose wakes, he continues his journey. Ambrose once saw a map of Incontinence and where the king will strike next; it was a coincidence that he once looked upon this place. Although it was a mere glance, he knows it is located in the south region. He will be stumbling his way through, guessing what village is the right village. As he enters each village, he will be asking the people directions. Ambrose knows there is always risk when he enters any village whether it is the men who guard the village or the Sicarius who might be following him. Ambrose will have to watch for danger the rest of his days because of the decision he has made. 

Outside of every village he visits, he always sets a trap not too far from the entrance. This is in case he finds himself overwhelmed by men and pursued. The trap is his escape route, which he sets up differently in every village every time depending on his resources. When he leaves every location, he takes down the trap, letting none know of his presence. 

Finally, after a half day of visiting villages, an elderly man he sees walking the streets tells him the directions. This elderly man once lived there but moved because of the ignoble guards. Ambrose makes his way to this village as soon as possible. The elderly man tells him it is a day’s travel from their location. Ambrose must arrive before dark. The gates to all villages close at sunset, and none can enter until the morning. This is because of war. 

In the middle of his journey, he knows he will not make it before nightfall. Ambrose is in no hurry now, knowing this. He sets up camp and will head to the village before sunrise. Ambrose only sleeps for a few hours then proceeds to his destination. 

Ambrose soon sees the village in the distance as he finds himself on a side path of a mountain. The village sits between two mountains. The sun is just beginning to show. The view Ambrose sees is remarkable, but to Ambrose, it is just a location. As usual, he thinks there might be trouble. Ambrose sets up an escape route. Using the mountains to his advantage, Ambrose loosens rocks from a mountain so if he needs to, he can knock them down on his way out of town, blocking anyone from following him. 

When Ambrose is close enough to see the gate entrance to the village, he spots a group of men on horseback who are patrolling the outskirts of the village. Like all other villages, while the land is at war, there are selected men from each village that patrol their own. This is to make the village safe and free from crime. Ambrose knows it is typical for these types of men to be too cowardly to join the fight but use this time of war to get what they want out of the village. The men who go to war always intimidate these unworthy men. Once out of the way, these cowardly men rampage the village and strike fear into the villagers’ hearts so the people do not tell of their harsh crimes. These men also use this fear to keep order. 

Ambrose comes closer to the village gateway, and the patrol examines Ambrose yards away. They all raise one hand to the sky and use a universal signal to say stop. They do this in silence, just in case it might be a trap, to give them time to look at their surroundings. The group knows that most do not travel alone. This is what makes this situation suspicious. 

Ambrose knows the signal they made with their hands means “Stop, do not move, or you will be fired upon by the archers.” Ambrose stops, not from fear but only because in order to deliver this letter, he must. The men on horses then ride closer to Ambrose after noticing he rides alone and there is no trap. When they finally come close enough to Ambrose, they stop directly in front of him, so it is hard for Ambrose to see the front entrance. They are making a type of wall, side by side while on their horses, to show intimidation. 

Ambrose soon realizes who the group leader is out of the men. This was done by figuring out who told the men to hold their hands to the sky, when to advance to Ambrose, when to stop, and who called the order to make the wall of intimidation. Ambrose assumes he also must be the leader of the whole village while at war. He fits the description. This man is short, heavyweight, has poor hygiene, and smells of alcohol.
How typical,
Ambrose thinks. 

“My name is Everett. I’m the one who looks after this village while we are at war. Where do you think you are going while covered like that?” he says while scratching at his unkept beard full of food scraps. “Not many people travel alone, especially wearing a hooded robe. We could have killed you. Explain yourself.” 

“I am no more than a drifter.” Ambrose drops his hood revealing his buzzed haircut, stubble facial hair, as if he is a peasant, for all to see. Questions of who he is will be no more because of this. “My path has collided with a man from my travels. He has given me this letter to return.” Ambrose pulls out the letter from under his robe and holds it high. “He was at battle, I tried to pass, and he was injured. Out of kindness and nothing more to give to this world, I accepted his request.” Ambrose then places it back inside his robe “This letter I carry is for Ms. White. I am told she lives here. Could you point the way to her house?” 

“Ha. Ms. White, huh? Who was this man to Ms. White?” 

“This letter, it is from her husband.” 

“So what does it say?” A man next to Everett, who could be second in command, spits as he talks. 

“I have not read it. I only read the address and name.” 

“Then let us read it,” Everett demands. 

“He is a warrior that fights for the land of Incontinence while his family sits at home and worries.” Ambrose is trying to keep his horse in one position. “Will you have a little respect and let me deliver this without you opening it?” he says, glaring at them after their disrespectful request. 

“Humph. I will tell you where she resides, but watch your tone, peasant! She lives on the only farm in the city.” Everett points behind him with a crude look. “You cannot miss it. Her farm is in the center of the city. Ha-ha! We know it pretty well,” Everett tells Ambrose with pride as he looks back at him. 

Ambrose looks at Everett, confused by his last comment. “Thanks.” He rides around the wall they have made, and the men glaring at him. Ambrose then rides into the city without saying more to the men, knowing these men have done wrong to Ms. White. 

Chapter IV 

When Ambrose arrives at Ms. White’s house, he dismounts the horse and ties it to a hitching post that is located on the side road in front of her house. Ambrose leaves his sword attached to the horse, only carrying the black sword. He walks up to the front door to knock. As he knocks, nobody answers, but he notices that someone is on the other side and is placing all their weight against the door. He knocks once more. 

“Go away! Leave my daughter and me alone!” 

“I bear a message from your husband.” Ambrose comprehends this greeting was from the damage Everett has done. 

After a moment of silence, the door then opens slightly, and a woman sticks her light blue eye to the crack of the door.
This woman must be Ms. White
, Ambrose wonders. 

“My husband?” she asks. 

“Yes, my name is Ambrose. I am a drifter, and your husband has sent me to deliver you this letter.” Ambrose takes the letter out from his robe to show her. 

Ms. White then opens the door the rest of the way. “Come in.” 

Ambrose walks inside. “I’m sorry for startling you.” He hands the letter to Ms. White. 

Ms. White closes the door and takes the letter. “It is all right, I am the one who needs to apologize for being rude. I thought you were one of the swine that are meant to protect the village. So tell me, how did my husband give you this letter? Is he well?” 

A little girl no older then eleven runs into the room with a smile and stops out of fear just as Ms. White asks. This little girl has short black hair, scruffy from playing outside, and a belly that protrudes slightly. Ms. White looks at this little girl with innocence and says, “Do not worry. He is just a drifter with a letter from your father.” 

“From Father?” her head turns with much curiosity. “What does it say?” 

“I have not read it yet.” 

“Well, can you tell me what it said later? Right now, I’m trying to find Whiskers. Have you seen him?” the girl asks her mother. 

“Have you checked the barn?” She places her hand on one hip and cocks her head, letting her long dark hair sway. “You know he likes to mess around with those horses.” 

Out of excitement and realizing the cat must be there, she runs off. “Oh yeah, thank you, Mother!” 

Ms. White looks back at Ambrose with a smile. “Our daughter, Gytha—ha, she is a wild one. My name is Aida. Pleased to meet you. What is your name again, and how did you say you got this letter?” 

“My name is Ambrose. Well, you see, I’m a drifter, and I ran into him lying on the side of a battlefield—” 

“What do you mean?” Ms. White cuts off Ambrose with a gasp and covers her mouth. 

Ambrose then looks around and puts on a fake smile not to worry Ms. White. “I’ve traveled a long way to deliver this letter to you. Do you have a place where I can wash up?” 

Ms. White’s shock lets up, and she points down a hall. “Down the hall, first door on the left. It is a place my husband built for us. He said it is called a washroom.” 

Ambrose starts to walk down the hall. “Thank you. A washroom, huh? I never heard of such a room. Your husband sounds like a good man building you such things.” He bows his head in shame. 

Ms. White smiles and begins to open the letter. “He is! Oh, and thank you for going so far out of your way just to deliver us this letter! I would offer you food, but we just ate!” she says, raising her voice for Ambrose to hear. 

As Ambrose splashes his face and washes his hands in water, he is trying to build up the courage to tell Ms. White the news of her husband and how he is deceased. He realizes that he should not have this feeling of grief. He is a trained killer. He starts to think of her blue eyes and how they are so familiar but cannot figure out where he has seen similar eyes. Maybe this is the reason behind the hesitation. He wonders. “It is okay. I am not hungry. About going out of my way, well, I am a drifter. It is nothing!” he said loudly, snapping out of his thoughts. 

A knock on the door stops Ms. White from opening the letter the rest of the way. The comfort of the letter and the conversation she is having with Ambrose sidetracks her from the dangers of what is outside. “Yes?” Ms. White smiles while she opens the door. 

“Oh? You are so happy to see me. Some of my men and I were—” Everett, the man who looks after the city, says before getting cut off in midsentence by the slammed door. 

“Go away!” Ms. White places all her weight against the shut door. 

Everett glances at his men and notice they are laughing among one another. Out of anger and embarrassment from the shut door, he slams his cup of alcohol to the ground and turns his head back to the door. “This is just going to end like it always does if you do not open the door!” 

Once more, she says, “Go away!” 

“Fine, so this is how you want it!” Everett yells at the door. He points to his men. “You discuss who gets seconds after I am done or however you men do it. Maybe all at once, I do not care, but only come in when I leave. I am greedy and need to teach this bitch a lesson. So I need it all to myself.” Everett then uses his strength to kick and push open the door. Ms. White falls to the floor from the force of the door being pushed open. Everett shuts the door behind him and looks down at Ms. White. “My men are staying outside this time, so do not worry. Well, until I am done, that is. Ha-ha!” 

“It is not my place to say anything, but didn’t she tell you to leave?” Ambrose calmly walks in the room, wiping his hands clean with a rag. 

Everett drunkenly slurs, “Ah! The small drifter. I forgot you were coming here. How about you leave and let me accompany this whore for a while. You can join too, but you have to wait in line. Ha.” Everett points back at the door trying to keep his balance. 

Ambrose then looks at Ms. White lying helplessly on the ground. “I see why you called them swine now. No honor.” 

Everett pulls out his sword and stumbles back. “What did you say! I told you to watch your tone. What do you know about honor anyways, you peasant.” 

Ambrose sees the sword and, out of muscle memory, goes into a defense stance. 

Concerned for Ambrose’s well-being, Aida says, “Please do not get involved. They will kill you.” 

“Yeah,” Everett hiccups. “Listen to the whore, boy.
Hiccup
. Now I am only going to tell you this one more time—
gaaa
!” 

Before Everett could say another word, Ambrose takes Everett’s sword and thrusts it into Everett’s stomach with full force. Ambrose does this in the direction of the door. Ambrose realizes that he uses far too much force as he goes through the door, breaking the hinges and letting the door swing in both directions. Ambrose lands on top of Everett’s body outside of the home. 

The noise of the door being whipped open and Everett’s dying grunts have gained Everett’s men’s attention. Everett’s men watch in silence and shock as Ambrose gets up calmly, leaves the sword inside Everett, and walks backward, back inside. The men then rush the door. Ambrose shuts the door and takes a chair to keep it shut for a short while. “This will not hold for long. They soon will realize they can pull it open from the damage I have done to it. You said you had a barn with horses?” 

“Yeah.” Ms. White is in shock and is staring in a daze at the door. “It is in the back. My daughter should be there trying to find the cat. We own four horses. Gytha insisted on getting four because—” 

“You need to snap out of it.” Ambrose grabs her face so she can look at him. “These men are going to come in any minute. I know it is hard to see a man getting killed, but we need to go out back immediately.” 

Ms. White shakes her head out of the dazed state. “Yeah, okay, we shall go.” 

Ms. White tucks the letter away. They head toward the back of the house. As they run out the back door, the front door finally gets whipped open. Ambrose and Ms. White run into the barn with Everett’s men seconds behind them. When they enter the barn, Ms. White is in a panicked state and looks around to call her daughter. 

Gytha drops down from one of the beams. “I am right here, Mom. You were right, Whiskers was here.” She lets the cat go and sees her mom’s panicked face. “Why so scared? What is wrong?” 

“Enough playing around!” Ms. White and Ambrose get on a horse. “Get on, it is time to leave!” Ms. White holds out her hand for Gytha to take it. 

Gytha takes her mom’s hand and jumps on the horse, confused. “Can Whiskers come?” 

Ms. White looks out the barn to see how close the men are. “We do not have time. The bad men are after us!” 

Gytha sees the men running toward the barn with swords drawn. She frowns and realizes that they will be leaving for good. This will be the last time she will see her cat. 

Ambrose, Ms. White, and Gytha ride through the village. Everett’s men chase and shoot arrows, missing them from being intoxicated. Ms. White and Gytha are very frightened. “So what is your plan?” Ms. White asks Ambrose, loudly enough that she can be heard. 

“Do not worry,” Ambrose says. “Once we get out of town, we will be fine. I always set an escape route for times like this. Everything is in my control.” 

The three finally make it past the front entrance of the village. Everett’s men are still chasing them intensely on horseback. Gytha, traumatized from what has happened to her as the war is happening, clings to her mom in fear. She closes her eyes tight and buries her head in her mom’s chest to tell her mom, “We cannot leave. What if Dad comes back? You said so yourself we must stay.” 

A tear falls down Ms. White’s face. “Things have changed.” She squeezes tighter with the one arm that is holding Gytha. 

“Why? What has made these men chase us like this? They have never before.” 

“We will talk about it later. First, we need to get away from them.” 

Ambrose and the girls are now on the side mountain-path Ambrose rode in on. “Almost there!” He pulls out the black sword from his side and raises it over his head. He strikes two ropes as they ride past them. The ropes were used to hold boulders from falling from the mountaintop. 

Ambrose sheaths the sword. Ms. White gazes at the sword and realizes it is her husband’s sword. Boulders fall and stop the soldiers from continuing their chase. Some of the men are crushed and pushed off the edge of the narrow mountain path. 

On the side of the rubble where the men stand in frustration, the second in command of Everett’s men is very angry. “We will send trackers and follow! Find them and kill them! They will regret the day they killed my uncle!” 

Hours later, the three find themselves in a valley of tall grass. It is night, and they surround the comfort of a small fire. Ms. White kisses Gytha on the head as she sleeps peacefully between her legs. 

“I am sorry I have nothing to cover. I did not plan on you two or else I would have.” 

Ms. White looks at the black sword Ambrose has under his robe, confused. “It is okay. So my husband, is he dead?” 

Ambrose notices Ms. White is looking at the part of the sword that shows from the bottom of his robe “Yes. I just did not know how to tell of his passing. Although I am sure the note tells you.” 

Ambrose bows his head in grief, and Ms. White pulls out the letter to begin reading silently. 

To my dearest Aida, 

First let me start by apologizing two both you and Gytha. I am sure by just looking at this letter you already know….
 

Ambrose takes the black sword and the holster and hands them to Ms. White. She stops reading to look at the sword for a second and places it next to her. She continues reading the letter. 

I am no longer among the living. 

Ms. White stops reading to look at Ambrose and asks, “Do you know how he died?” 

Ambrose looks at Ms. White. “Not really. I found myself on the side of a battlefield and saw a dying man. He must have been stabbed. He looked at me, and with the strength he had left, he gave me that sword and letter. He asked me to give it to his wife, you. I could not turn down a man in need. After all, I am only a mere drifter, and he was fighting for something. I have nothing to stand for.” 

Ms. White sees how sincere Ambrose is. She is speechless and has nothing to say to Ambrose and continues to read the letter to herself. 

I wish I had more to say then just telling you that I am deceased. But you know me. You yourself once said, “You are a man of few words, but when you speak, the world listens.” With that said, I will leave you with this. Tell Gytha I love her and I will watch her grow. And always remember, I will always love you. You two will always be in my heart in the afterlife. Take care. I will be waiting. 

With all of my love, 

Michael
 

After she has read the rest of the letter, she falls into Ambrose’s arms. Ambrose sees her eyes as she falls into his arms once more, but this time, they are full of tears and glossy. Ambrose wraps his arms around her, and his face shows a feeling he has not felt since he was younger. This feeling, and the thought of knowing similar eyes, causes a flashback of when he was once a child. 

He remembers that he was in King Oswald’s castle in a solitary-confinement dungeon room. Food is pushed under the door as he is balled up crying. He sits alone in darkness. He then stands and walks to the only little window made out of bars in the room after he hears soft footsteps approaching it. A woman calls his name in a soothing voice, “Ambrose, do not cry.” 

This strange woman pulls a pole out of the window she has made loose. She puts her hand through the bars to hold his hand. Young Ambrose takes the strange woman’s hand for comfort and looks into this woman’s eyes. These eyes look just as Ms. White’s eyes do. They are very light blue and full of tears. “Who are you? How do you know my name?” Ambrose wipes his tears away. 

The strange woman looks at him with sorrow. “It is better if I do not tell you. If you knew and said anything about me by accident, I would not be able to come back. I just want you to know you will never be alone. I will always be here for you.”