Assassin's Curse (7 page)

“I see you, Jeda, son of Jacob and Cassandra of House DeLongo, and join you to me, Miriam, daughter of Gelda of House DeLongo.
 
I bind you through that blood we share and give you my children’s bond,” Miriam intoned, staring directly into his eyes.
 
“I command you with my power and blood to become that which my girls have lost.
 
You will become to them the father they lost and raise them as your own.
 
I order you to care for them with your every thought, to teach them as they grow into womanhood, and to protect them from those that would use them.
 
I charge you, through this unbreakable and resolute bond, to love them above all else.”

Miriam closed her eyes and squeezed his hand.
 
Please let this work. I don’t know what else to do.

Jeda felt an intense wave of emotion and pain tear through his mind, ripping his thoughts asunder and pulling him toward unconsciousness again.

As he faded under her compulsion spell, he listened as Miriam continued to speak.

Take the girls to the Village of Rocher, south of the city.
 
Find the village healer…

“… She will know what to do,” Miriam finished, leaning against the crib, near to the end of her strength.
 
The transfer of her bond had been extremely painful and required an enormous amount of power.
 
It had effectively drained her of what little life she had left.
 
She had willingly forfeited her life for the chance that her babies would be safe.
 
She would not have made it alone and this was the best plan she could devise.
 
She looked over to the girls and gently squeezed their hands.

Another wave of agonizing pain gripped Miriam.
 
She nearly collapsed, but somehow found an ounce of strength.
 
“Goodbye my sweet, little darlings, I tried to protect you as best I could.
 
Love and be kind to one another and trust this man who will be your new father.”

A single tear trickled down Miriam’s face.
 
She slumped down to the floor.
 
Her eyes closed and death’s mistress finally claimed her wretched life.

When Jeda woke from Miriam’s spell, his first sight was of her, slumped beside the crib, dead.
 
He looked up and saw the two infant girls staring at him with wide, innocent eyes as they clung to the side of their crib.
 
The rush of feelings overwhelmed him as he looked at them.
 
He instinctively knew he would care for them as his own and realized with a shock that he would be willing to give his life to protect them.

What the hell just happened?
 
What did that damn witch do to me?
 
I don’t want any babies.
 
They’re going to the Berkshire woman.

Thoughts raced through Jeda’s mind as the feeling returned to his body.
 
He tried to shake this new impulse to care for these babies from his mind, but he was powerless against the witch’s compelling spell.
 
Whatever she had done to him had changed him intrinsically.
 
He rose up slowly, shaking his head to clear his mind and started for the door.
 
He wanted no more part of this.
 
His assignment was half complete.
 
All that was left was to notify the masters and let them ferry the children to the countess.
 

It took no more than a few steps for Jeda to realize that whatever he wanted no longer mattered.
 
An
irrepressible
image invaded his mind and his every thought was now consumed with those babies and their safety.
 
He knew what he had to do and immediately started making plans.
 
First, he needed to get the babies away from this place.
 
When he failed to bring them back to the guild or deliver them to the House of Berkshire, the masters would send someone to investigate.
 
Second, he needed to find food for the babies to eat, but they were totally alien to him.

“What the hell do babies eat anyway?” he asked the dead witch.

He was used to going for days with little to no substance, but he doubted they would go more than a few hours without raising hell.
 
Third, he had to find someone to help to raise the two girls.
 
He knew nothing about children; what they needed, what they wanted, or how to care for them.
 
He was an assassin not a nursemaid, or at least he used to be.
 
The more he thought of it, the more he realized his old life was over.
 
Everything he had strived and worked so hard to achieve in the guild was gone in an instant.
 
The witch had changed everything, cursing him with her last dying breath.

Damn it!
 
Why didn’t I pay more attention to those warnings on the rooftop?

Now he was no longer a brother of the guild, but a father to two infant girls.
 
This shouldn’t have happened.
 
He had been so careful.
 
He looked over at the slumped form of Miriam and swore silently at her.
 
He despised her for what she took from him, but concern for the girls’ safety overrode his feelings of loathing.
 

Jeda leaned against the crib, still a bit unsteady from his ordeal.
 
He probed the injury to his side from Miriam’s blast and found that it wasn’t as bad as it felt.
 
Being this close to the babies he had his first chance to study them closely.
 
He could easily see that they were identical and showed the signs of the witch: the telltale, gold-tinted eyes all witches had in common.
 
He found it a bit unnerving that while he studied them, they seemed to be studying him as well.
 
This was the first day of a new life for him.
 
What was so important about these two little girls?
 
He shook his head, wondering what the big deal was about identical female witches.
 
If anyone had told him that their births had been foretold in prophecy, he would have laughed in their face.
 

“You have names?” he asked.
 

The girls continued to hold onto the side of the crib and stare at him.
 
Being a man of few words, he quickly decided what he would call them.
 
There was no sentiment involved, but what was simple and easy for him to remember.

“Kala,” he said pointing to the girl on the left and, “Kara,” pointing to her sister on the right.
 
Being identical, he needed something to tell them apart.
 
Finding a bit of ribbon on top of the chest of drawers, he tied a different color around their wrists: yellow for Kala and black for Kara.
 
Somehow, his instincts told him the colors were right.
 
The girls stared at him with scowling faces and he got the distinct feeling that neither liked the names nor the bits of cloth around their tiny wrists.
 
Kara tugged at hers with tiny fingers, but Jeda had tied the knot securely.

“Hey, you don’t have to like the names, but you will live with them,” Jeda said, looking around the room for any supplies he could use.
 
Both girls simultaneously looked at each other and then grabbed one of Jeda’s fingers.
 
All pretenses of grumbling and discontent were gone and Jeda felt an eerie sensation course up his arm.
 
It seemed that they had agreed to the names and that made him wonder again what that scheming witch had dragged him into.

Mave stood stoically in the antechamber of the Grand Masters’ Council Chamber waiting to be called.
 
These men were each a master within their school of weaponry and held the titular rank of Grand Master from being the leading expert of their specialty.
 
It was up to this select few to choose who would
elevated
to the esteemed rank of master.
 
Very few brothers became candidates and only the best of the best were chosen.
 
Today it was to be Mave’s honor.
   

It was the day he had long waited for and he was dressed in his finest blacks.
 
The long years of arduous training and selfless sacrifice would at last pay off in this one stunning moment of achievement.
 
From this day forward, Mave would be a master in the assassin’s guild and a member of the council for the School of the Sword.
 
Instead of simply following orders, he would now be issuing them.
 
It was the singular honor Mave knew he deserved and one step closer to his ultimate goal to be the Grand Master of the School of Swords.
     

The muted buzz of the attending Grand Masters was all he could hear through the doors as he waited for their summons.
 
It was not long before the doors were opened to the antechamber where Mave stood.

“You’re wanted inside,” the guard said.

Mave nodded and went through the doors into the chamber.
 
All five Grand Masters were in attendance, one for each of the schools of weapons recognized in the guild.
 
Mave could feel the intensity in the air.
 
Something significant had happened and he became wary that it might affect his advancement.
     

“Brother Mave,” one of the masters said.
 
“Please come forward.”

Brother Mave
, he thought,
not Master Mave.
 
This can’t be good.

“Brother Jeda is missing,” the master explained.
 
“We want you to investigate what has happened to him.
 
This is a sensitive matter.
 
Brother Jeda was working on a mission of utmost importance.
 
Find him and bring him back.”

Mave inwardly cringed when he heard his new orders.

Damn him to the lowest level of hell.
 
That bastard has been the bane of my existence since I first laid eyes on him.
   

The masters held Mave responsible for Jeda’s actions.
 
Somehow the upstart Jeda had succeeded in delaying, and possibly ruining, Mave’s elevation.
 
Mave would have to save his miserable neck before he could finally realize his own life’s dream.
 
He cursed the day so long ago when he had decided to bring the young boy into the guild instead of killing him.
 

Outwardly, Mave’s only reaction to this news was a slight widening of his eyes.
 
Jeda was an elite assassin of the guild and had never failed in any mission or task assigned to him.
 
In the beginning, Mave had been responsible for Jeda’s training since he had brought the boy into the guild.
 
Jeda became Mave’s training novice, but also grew to become a thorn in his side.
 
Once he had reached the rank of apprentice and moved into the School of the Knife, Mave thought he was done with him, but it seemed fate had other ideas.
 
If Jeda was missing now, then something big had happened and Mave could not decide whether this was good news or bad.

Mave almost missed what the master was saying while he pondered his past with Jeda.
 
He quickly gave them his full attention.

“From his last report we know that Brother Jeda found his target in the city of Constantine,” Grand Master Dykara said.
 
“We know that he was poised to strike the very night of his report.
 
We want you to investigate what happened and, regardless of what you find, bring Jeda back to the guild.”

“As you command,” Mave said.

Damn you boy.
 
Make no mistake, I will find you.

“Good luck, Brother Mave, and remember this mission is of the upmost importance.”

“I understand, Master.
 
I will send you a report as soon as I know anything.”

Mave turned on his heel and left the Grand Masters’ Council Chamber.
 
The meeting had not turned out to be the celebration he thought he would be enjoying.
 
Hatred radiated from his soul and he softly cursed again the day he had saved that young boy from the burning hut.

Mave set off immediately for Jeda’s last known location: the slums outside of Constantine’s food bazaar.
 
In Jeda’s last report, he had discovered his target’s location, but was still scouting the surrounding area.
 
That report had been four days ago.
 
No one had seen or heard from him since then and he was long overdue in reporting his status.
 
It was not unusual for a few days to go by with no communication from an assassin.
 
There was no cause for alarm as it was the nature of the job, but four days of silence meant something had gone wrong: the assigned assassin was either dead or captured.
 
Mave needed to find Jeda to finally secure his position as a master, but whether he found him dead or disgraced, Mave would finally be done with him.
 
It was not an unpleasant thought.