Sicarius (6 page)

“Look, a monkey.” Gytha points at it. “Why do most people not move here, Ambrose? It seems perfect.” 

“It is extremely difficult to board a ship to this place. These people do not want an overpopulated island. The only reason why we could was my emblem.” 

“Well, good thing you never took it off. Do you still have it on?” Gytha looks at Ambrose’s shoulder. 

“Yes. I think I will keep it on, but only in Fraudule, just in case.” 

“That is a good idea,” said Aida. 

“Some more information of this place is that most of the Fraudule kingdom thinks this land is following their rules. The people of Pacem like it that way. This was part of the deal we made to let any of the Fraudule soldiers come and do their business. Their business never lasts long, no longer than a day or two. When these soldiers come, the people are to act as if they are under the control of Fraudule until the soldiers leave. This goes for you two now.” 

Gytha looks up to see the birds fly. “No need to worry. We will.” 

“There is no need to always to be on guard. Very few soldiers come. When they do, they soon leave after their business due to boredom. They never go too far into the land. They only stay on the shoreline.” 

“Well, that’s a relief,” says Gytha. 

“Yes, it is, and if I did not show this emblem, we would have had to board the ship by force.” 

“I am not meaning to change the subject, but I do not want Gytha and me to live in a damaged house from a fire. When we do reach this place, do you think the people rebuilt their farm?” 

“Yes, the people here are hard workers and look after one another as I said before. They would have rebuilt it as soon as I left. Oh, and I forgot to tell you their names. The wife’s name is Bliss and—” 

Gytha suddenly has a surge of interest. “What is the man’s name?” 

“Frith.” Ambrose smiles from the endearing way Gytha asks. 

“Frith and Bliss. Their names alone sound wonderful,” said Aida. 

Chapter VIII 

The three talk among themselves and enjoy one another’s company as much as possible. The girls ask as many questions as they can about the land of Pacem. Ambrose and the girls know this will be the last time they will see one another for a long time. Before they know it, they arrive at their destination. The farm is rebuilt as Ambrose said. It looks as if it never caught fire. 

The three jump off their horses and walk to the door. Aida hides the black sword so the owners would not think they mean danger. When they knock, Frith opens the door. Gytha and Aida were expecting something different. Frith hunches over, has liver spots all along his loose skin, and looks as if he is in his early seventies. Aida taps Gytha on the shoulder to stop her from staring at his white hair. 

Frith is nervous and trembling with fear. He closes the door only showing half his body. “What do you want?” 

Ambrose points to the two girls by his side. “Do you see these women next to me?” Frith nods his head. “These women have shown me kindness as I have shown you so long ago.” 

“Who is there?” Bliss yells out behind the door and starts to shuffle her way to the entrance. 

Frith turns his head to Bliss. “Ambrose. He was the one who caught fire to our farm.” 

Bliss takes control of the door from Frith; she opens the door so she can see. To Gytha and Aida, she was very typical. She had short white curly hair, loose cheeks, and was petite and sweet. 

She looks at Ambrose and frowns. “Oh, it is you.” She soon changers her attitude when she sees he brought company. Bliss then gently takes Gytha by her hand and brings her in their home. “Come in, you three. So what is your name, young lady?” Bliss guides them to a table in the dining room. 

Gytha cannot help but feel how soft and gentle her touch is. “Gytha. My mom and I have traveled far. We lost our home, and Ambrose tells us you have room for us to stay.” 

“He did?” Frith raises his eyebrow and looks to Ambrose. “I hope you did not lose your house like we did at first.” 

Aida looks at Frith. “Ambrose told us how you lost your house by his hand. Yes, we too lost our house by his hand, but in a good way.” Bliss, Gytha, and Aida sit at the table while the men stand. 

Frith looks at Aida full of doubt. “How so?” 

Ambrose sits back patiently, letting the girls speak freely. He knows only the girls could convince them of the truth. If Ambrose were to speak, they would think that Ambrose is not speaking truthfully and just wants to drop these girls off somewhere to get them off his hands.
These girls are full of purity, and the owners will believe,
Ambrose thinks. 

Aida and Gytha begin to tell their story, from Ambrose’s appearance and all the way to the house they are at now. As the couple sit and listen, they make a meal. This story lasts several hours. When they are finished telling their story, the couple is convinced the story is true, and Ambrose has changed his ways. The table is full of scraps and empty cups. 

A burp is let out from Gytha. “It’s been days since I had food. Do not blame Ambrose though, the journey never let up any time to eat.” 

“Excuse my daughter, but she is right. It has been days. We have not eaten a thing since we ran out of our house. Thank you.” 

Bliss smiles and admires the two. “You two are very welcome.” 

Frith crosses his arms and looks at the girls as grumpy old men do. “Ambrose said to you girls that we have rooms for you two to stay? For how long might you be staying?” 

Before any of the girls can answer, Ambrose finally speaks, glaring at the old man. “It is the favor you two owe me for not taking your lives. They are to stay here as long as they please.” 

Frith pauses for a second and tries not to make eye contact out of fear. “Then this shall be your favor. You really have changed. I thought it would have been a selfish favor.” 

“Quit being so protective and mean, Ambrose,” said Aida. 

With joy, Bliss gently takes Gytha’s and Aida’s hands and walks out the dining room. “Let me show you two around. Ambrose was right. We have plenty of rooms. Ha-ha!” 

Bliss shows the girls around the house and what rooms they will stay in. When Bliss shows Aida what room she will stay in, Aida hides the black sword there. 

Meanwhile, Frith starts cleaning the table but is stopped by Ambrose. “There is no need for that, old man. This favor is huge. Cleaning up should be the least I can do.” 

“Very well.” Frith places the plates back on the table and is impressed. “You never did mention if you are staying. Are you?” 

“The woman and child are friends, not a family I want to be in. I will leave shortly after I clean. I will stop by every so often, without word, to check on them and converse, and to make sure you two are still holding the deal. It is a duty of mine in order to have friends.” 

“No need to worry. We are in charge of this land for a reason. But I cannot help but find it funny, an assassin finding feelings for two girls you have never met before. Ha-ha! That seems a little contradictory.” 

“It might, but there are good reasons.” 

“Do tell.” 

“No.” 

Frith pauses and his eyes widen. This is because of Ambrose’s single word, emotionless and terrifying. Frith knows if he becomes too comfortable around Ambrose, he might be killed. Ambrose might have changed but is still capable of murder and is a man after all. Men do not show many feelings to other men. 

“I will leave you to clean then.” Frith leaves the room knowing he has said too much and attends to the horses the three rode. He places them in his barn. 

Soon after Ambrose cleans up, night comes. Ambrose finds the girls in their rooms, relaxing. Gytha is jumping on her bed while her mother is in her room reading the vast book collection the owners have. Ambrose gathers them to the front door. 

Ambrose kneels to Gytha’s height with a smile and whispers, “I will take the role of your big brother now. I will return soon. When I do, you have to tell me if anyone has made you mad. I can kill them for you.” 

Gytha hugs Ambrose and gives a kiss to his cheek. Ambrose fills with warmth. From this kiss, Ambrose is no longer the man he once was. He will not show he was ever a Sicarius. 

After her kiss, she stops hugging Ambrose. “You do not have to do that. My father showed me a few moves. I can take care of myself.” 

“Well then.” Ambrose is surprised as he stands back up. 

Aida unexpectedly gives Ambrose a hug while saying, “Thank you. Because of your bravery, our lives will be grand.” 

Ambrose remembers that he has forgotten to tell Aida an important piece of information. “That reminds me. May I take a walk with you alone?” 

“Sure.” Aida stops hugging Ambrose and looks at him, confused. “Wait here, Gytha. Ambrose and I have to talk in private.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Gytha starts to pucker her lips together. 

Ambrose and Aida both smile at Gytha’s reaction. They shut the door, but not before Ambrose says thank you one more time to Frith and Bliss. They walk in silence for several minutes until they get to the border of the farm. 

Aida starts to become impatient. “This is what you wanted to do, just walk in silence?” 

“No, I had to make sure Gytha was not following us.” Ambrose scans the area. “With my new feelings, I could not be able to handle the thought of her hearing what I am about to tell you. I hardly can bring myself to tell you. I know I must. These emotions are taking over my body, and I could not leave without telling you. I leave it up to you to tell her or not.” 

“I know. You do not have to tell me.” Aida bows her head and kicks a rock. 

“You do?” 

“I know it is not what Gytha thinks. Ha-ha! It is something much more. After you told us you are an assassin and the last mission you did, how you left while finding my husband on the side of a battlefield. I put the pieces together. You are the one who killed Michael, my husband.” Aida wipes a tear from her eye. 

“So Michael was his name. I am truly sorry. If it makes you feel any better, if it was not for this glove and him being so fatigued, he would have killed me.” Ambrose shows her his glove with a slit and how his hand has a wound. “He was the Incontinence furious warrior, and I was for Fraudule. King Oswald knew he needed to die, so he sent his best after him. The king knew no ordinary man could kill him. He was too skilled. That sword you hold is truly extraordinary.” 

“War, it is an awful thing. If it was not for war, he would be still alive. You would not have killed him. Nothing would have happened to us.” Aida pauses to think. She looks back at the house. “Hold on, I have to get something.” Aida starts to run back to the house. 

Ambrose watches her run back to the house, confused about what she is doing. She goes into the house then runs back out telling her daughter to wait still. Aida stops running when she is close enough to Ambrose. 

Ambrose notices she has the black sword in her hand. “Here.” 

“What? Why?” 

“My husband would want you to have it. I believe he would have thought you have redeemed your sins by helping us. This should be your reword. Go on and take it. I have no need for it.” She holds it out for Ambrose to take. “I do not plan on fighting anytime in the future, especially here. And I know you could be unstoppable with it, and it should go with someone who fights—but with a good heart and a good reason, like you.” 

Ambrose hesitates in taking the sword. “Are you sure? Besides the letter, you do not have anything else to remind you of him.” 

“You say you will be coming back, right? Well, that’s good enough. You remind me of him. Every time I see you, his memory will come back. And if you do not take it, I will be insulted. Now my arm is getting tired from holding it out. Take it.” 

“Fine. Thank you.” Ambrose takes the sword. “If you do not mind, it has been my interest wanting to know who your husband was and how he was so skilled with the sword. After all, he was the only one out of everyone I fought to cause me to think about my death, and how he could bring it to me.” 

“Yes, my husband was truly skilled. I will tell you.” Aida jumps on top of the wooden fence that surrounds the farm. 

“I appreciate it.” 

“Like I said before, my husband was a drifter like you. While he drifted from village to village, island to island—he probably was here as well. I would not be astounded if some of these people know him. It always seemed that everywhere we went, there were always a few people who knew him. Oh, sorry, kind of got lost in the past there and went off the story.” Aida smiles and places her hand on Ambrose’s shoulder. 

“It is fine. I understand.” 

“As he traveled, every place he went seemed to have a different way of fighting. He would tell me. He told me that he learned all of these fighting styles. When I met him, it was in the village you saved us from. We were children. He told me he was going to travel one day, and that when he was done traveling, he would marry me. Finally, he had his fill of travel. He came home and started to build our house after he bought our land. I did not know where he got the money, and I did not ask. As time moved on, our house was built, and I was with child. I would catch him every once in a while swinging the black sword. I asked him what he was doing. He told me he was finding a way to put all of the fighting styles he knew together, making one great style.” 

“So that explains why he was so skilled. If he was settled, why did he join the war?” 

“He was forced by King Cynric. Somehow, word of Michael’s skills got to the king. The king knew he would come in handy. The king must have been right. King Oswald sent you after him. Well, when he went to war, he promised me he would return. After all, with his skills, who could touch him? I believed him, and plus, with that black sword, how could he lose.” 

Ambrose looks to the ground in shame for a second. “So explain this sword. How did he get such an amazing piece?” Ambrose holds the sword up. 

“Villagers on an island he visited held him as a god. I do not know why. He never told me. He was too modest, I guess. All I know is that the villagers forged that sword from the volcano that is on the island. They gathered the metal from a rock that fell from the sky.” 

Ambrose wraps the sheath around his waist. “The land of Fraudule is based around a meteor as I told you before. This rock was made out of a metal similar to the sword or maybe the same.” Ambrose looks at the sword once more before he places it under his robe. “The only difference is, Fraudule does not have the right heat to sharpen this metal. The heat they provide can only bend it. This metal, after bending, was given to each Sicarius as a defensive weapon, not offensive like a sword—this sword.” 

“My husband’s sword must be really extravagant. I always knew it was. He showed Gytha and me how it could cut anything in half. He told me once that there was no other sword in this world like it. Gytha was so proud of her dad.” Aida smiles and looks to the stairs. 

Ambrose smiles slightly, showing sympathy for Gytha. “Yes, it is very special and probably the only one of its kind. If not for the sword, I would already be dead when I fought the other lions.” 

“They were lions? No wonder you were in the captured state when I arrived. So what makes Fraudule not able to sharpen the metal? Why can they not heat it?” 

“They cannot produce heat as a volcano can. The volcano’s heat must be the answer to sharpen the metal. If the king finds out how, he would probably invade an island that has a volcano and kill all the people so word of the reasons why he invaded will not fall to his enemies.” 

“I know.” 

“King Oswald’s grandfather, the one who started the land of Fraudule, was convinced that the metal cannot be penetrated. He gathered many men to try. Since the metal could not be sharpened, they never used the rock’s metal to try. They still do not know that only a sharpened piece can penetrate the armor—unless Reginald told.” 

“Like I said before, I’m sure he did not make it. He was bleeding too much.” 

“We can only hope. Well, anyways, because King Oswald’s grandfather thought that no one will have this type of metal—and sharpened—this would give the upper hand to his soldiers. He was right. This is why Fraudule is winning the war. If this sword can cut through anything, and the information to sharpen this metal fell into the wrong hands—”