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Bohden strode gratefully through the door Sigurd held open and out into the hall, feeling the almost overwhelming urge to lift his hands above his head and stretch. He didn't, however. It wouldn't have been dignified to do so. Though he did tense his muscles and stifle the yawn that came with it, his eyes watering every so slightly before he relaxed and then blinked. Sitting at a desk all day sure took its toll on a person.
He waited until Sigurd joined him in the hall before speaking, "I do not expect things to be too different this year, Sigurd," he said with a nod as they began walking down the hall towards the stairs to the lower level of the palace. "Though I believe there will be ten to fifteen more guests this year than last year." As children got older and were included as adults in these functions and as other nobles moved into the area and out of the area, the number of guests each year rose and fell. It was expected. "Oh, and both Lord Brandon and Sir Eckley will be here." He frowned a little as he glanced over at Sigurd. "As you know, the history between those two families is...tense. To put it mildly. I would appreciate it if you would keep an extra eye on them and perhaps check them over to make sure they are not carrying any concealed weapons. I would hate for my anniversary to turn into a blood bath." It was highly doubtful that they would resort to violence, but when wine was involved, as it would be at the celebration, who knew what could happen?
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Take a little look at the life of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little harder, I really really want you to
Put yourself in her shoes.
Take another look at the face of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little closer, and maybe then you will see
Why she waits for the day...
When you ask her her name.
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The inside of the wagon could have served for a small one-room abode, complete with small table and chairs, tapestries to decorate the wwalls, and assorted chests; to say nothing of the bed upon which lay the sleeping form of Lord Elias Devereaux. Soft breathing covered the sound of the door swinging inward, bringing in the light and scent from campfires outside, and a gentle shadow fell into the room. The door remained open for no more than a heartbeat, and when it closed all was darkness.
Now inside the wagon, Ren drew air through his teeth to fill his lungs, then let out the breath little by little. The process made less noise, and lowered the odds of alerting the prey. He moved his attention from object to object and took rapid stock of everything. From here on forth, all must be forceful and swift.
The lord still slept soundly. Crossing to the bed in one stride, Ren drew forth a large wad of cotton. This he forced between the target’s teeth and into his mouth. The man woke, of course, but his cry was muffled by the gag. Ren jerked him into a sitting position and struck him hard, then drew another wad of cotton and placed it firmly on the target’s left shoulder. Then came the knife.
The firelight flickering in through the wagon’s tiny windows gleamed in Lord Elias’ wide, horror-filled eyes. Lips moved around the gag as if to form a plea, or some last words. No one would ever know them.
Ren leaned close to the man’s ear and whispered, “It’s not me. Thank Lodekai.” The long, thin blade slipped through the cotton and into the man’s heart. Five seconds later, it was done.
But not fully done. Ren withdrew the blade. The cotton wiped blood off the implement as it retracted, leaving the weapon stainless and clean. Immediately, he set about disposing of the target. Corpses bled very little if cut apart properly.
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Time holds the heart's key,
Key to everything is Love...
As Bohden stepped from the study, Sigurd followed him out into the corridor, pulling the door closed behind him. They walked and Sigurd listened to Bohden. Lord Brandon and Lord Eckley would be arriving for the celebration. He knew about the tension going on between the two of them.
“Yes, I believe it best the two of them remain under watch.” Sigurd said. “I shall order the confiscation of all weapons at the gates, if you bid it, Majesty.” He paused. “Will Lady Mira be coming as well? Perhaps we should station a feminine guard at the gates for the sake of starting a riot.”
Sigurd knew Lady Mira enough to know how she hated the touch of men, and she would take absolutely no pleasure in being frisked by male guards. It was almost entertaining. But at the same time, he'd hate to see her travel all this way only to be turned around.
__________________ The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some great ideas!
I got in a fight one time with a really big guy, and he said, "I'm going to mop the floor with your face." I said, "You'll be sorry." He said, "Oh, yeah? Why?" I said, "Well, you won't be able to get into the corners very well."
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Bohden had to smile at the mention of Lady Mira. Oh, she was a feisty lady, that was for certain. He still remembered having to go out to greet her at the gate the first time she came to the anniversary party and escort her past the guards personally because she refused to submit to inspection with the rest of the guests. She was something of an oddity. Never married and consequently never had any children. He had heard that she wouldn't even let her own father or brothers touch her in any way, men she was supposed to be able to trust. Even refused to see a physician. Went to a local female herbalist, who was rumored to be a witch, for all her medical advice. But still. She was a noblewoman and was invited.
Bohden nodded, glancing over at Sigurd. "Yes, Lady Mira will be here. A female guard at the door would be a good idea." He looked ahead of them again. "And this time, when the weapons are confiscated, I think someone needs to be in charge of cataloguing who brought what weapon. To avoid last year's fiasco with some of the more...indulgent lords." Last year some of the guests at the party had gotten terribly drunk, and when they left, had gotten in quite an argument with the guards over their confiscated weapons. They were too drunk to remember what exact weapons they had taken and ended up insisting, quite loudly and vehemently, that they had brought weapons they didn't actually bring, claiming the guards must have stolen them to keep for themselves. It had taken days to straighten out.
********
This was the place. A small clearing near the entrance to the pass. The spot Ren had chosen for their meeting. Ren hadn't arrived yet, but Lodekai wasn't concerned. He was early.
He landed just outside the clearing, stretching his wings one more time before allowing them to fold back into his body, his skin changing colors and his body shrinking a little into his human form. He always felt so cramped in this form, as if his body was literally being compressed even though he knew he was simply changing forms. It wasn't painful at all. It was simply...a feeling he got when he transformed, as if he were being squeezed through a small space.
Once back in his human visage, however, Lodekai then shook out the overcoat he'd brought with him and slipped it on, straightening the cuffs and then running both hands smoothly through his hair. He took a deep breath and then strode to the edge of the clearing, placing his hands behind his back, his eyes scanning the treeline for Ren.
__________________
<><><><>
Take a little look at the life of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little harder, I really really want you to
Put yourself in her shoes.
Take another look at the face of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little closer, and maybe then you will see
Why she waits for the day...
When you ask her her name.
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“Hanis should have no trouble with that.” Hanis, the blacksmith, had served at the castle longer than Sigurd had. The old fellow knew what blade belonged to whom, as if his mind was made to match the blade with the face, as if the blade was a duplicate of the face itself. Still, Hanis would have to actually catalogue the blades, as Bohden had said, for the sake of aving to settle a nother drunken dispute.
Sigurd glanced over at the shorter man. He couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. But that was nothing new; it was a feeling he often felt when they had visitors or when he was off on his breaks. He would tell Bohden how he felt, although he had spoken of it from time to time over the years.
“My worry is the in the matter of assassins.”
__________________ The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some great ideas!
I got in a fight one time with a really big guy, and he said, "I'm going to mop the floor with your face." I said, "You'll be sorry." He said, "Oh, yeah? Why?" I said, "Well, you won't be able to get into the corners very well."
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Bohden hesitated at Sigurd's statement, furrowing his brow. There was always the threat of assassins. No king was free of that threat. He knew it was Sigurd's job to worry about the potential dangers, especially in such a public setting as his anniversary celebration would be, but usually he didn't mention such things and simply prepared for them out of habit. Did that mean there was some new development the had to be on the lookout for?
The king turned his head as they reached the bottom of the stairs to the main level of the castle and began their walk down the corridor to the dining hall. "Assassins?" he asked. "Has there been a recent threat that caught your concern?" There were always threats, of course. But occasionally one would come about that seemed more serious than others.
__________________
<><><><>
Take a little look at the life of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little harder, I really really want you to
Put yourself in her shoes.
Take another look at the face of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little closer, and maybe then you will see
Why she waits for the day...
When you ask her her name.
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Ren stepped out from the trees into the clearing. As expected, the master waited there already, punctual as ever. He resisted the urge to sneer. Top dogs arrived last. Was this deference to time a sign of weakness, perhaps? He tossed aside the dirt-encrusted shovel he still carried, then strode forward to meet Lodekai.
“Devereaux is dead and buried,” he said at once, with just the smallest inclination of his head. “Your way is cleared. Here are the clothes.” He swang the bag off his shoulder and held it out. “As you ordered.”
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Time holds the heart's key,
Key to everything is Love...
Now, Sigurd wasn't sure if he should have spoken this thought. He didn't want Bohden to feel suspicious of him. What if something really did happen and Sigurd was believed to be behind it? The thought haunted him. He would hate to lose this job he'd worked so hard to get. Worse, he'd hazte it even more if Bohden, his king and friend, lost trust in him. It was the last thing he needed.
"No, not at all, Majesty. Just thinking aloud." he said. he decided to change the subject. "Are you hungry? Perhaps a meal will suit you."
__________________ The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some great ideas!
I got in a fight one time with a really big guy, and he said, "I'm going to mop the floor with your face." I said, "You'll be sorry." He said, "Oh, yeah? Why?" I said, "Well, you won't be able to get into the corners very well."
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Originally Posted by Mountaindog
Ren stepped out from the trees into the clearing. As expected, the master waited there already, punctual as ever. He resisted the urge to sneer. Top dogs arrived last. Was this deference to time a sign of weakness, perhaps? He tossed aside the dirt-encrusted shovel he still carried, then strode forward to meet Lodekai.
“Devereaux is dead and buried,” he said at once, with just the smallest inclination of his head. “Your way is cleared. Here are the clothes.” He swang the bag off his shoulder and held it out. “As you ordered.”
No sooner had Lodekai arrived and stood still long enough to search the clearing with his eyes than he caught movement from between two trees ahead and just to his right. He felt a swelling of satisfaction in his chest. Excellent. Ren had a bag slung over his shoulder and a shovel in his hand. The deed was done.
Lodekai stepped out into the clearing to meet the assassin face to face. "Devereaux is dead and buried," he announced. "Your way is cleared. Here are the clothes." Lodekai's eyes followed the bag as Ren held it out to him. "As you ordered."
Reaching out for the bag, Lodekai lifted his gaze to his assassin once more. "Very good," he intoned with a glimmer of a smile, holding the bag down by his side. Now...he just needed to change. Both physical form and clothes before he entered the camp and crawled into Lord Devereaux's bed for the night. If all went as planned, the guards and servants would never know the difference. "Which direction is their camp?" he asked. He would be able to take over from there. Slipping past tired guards at the end of their watches would be no problem.
Originally Posted by LightofHeaven
((Sorry, tech issues...))
Now, Sigurd wasn't sure if he should have spoken this thought. He didn't want Bohden to feel suspicious of him. What if something really did happen and Sigurd was believed to be behind it? The thought haunted him. He would hate to lose this job he'd worked so hard to get. Worse, he'd hazte it even more if Bohden, his king and friend, lost trust in him. It was the last thing he needed.
"No, not at all, Majesty. Just thinking aloud." he said. he decided to change the subject. "Are you hungry? Perhaps a meal will suit you."
Bohden was relieved to hear there were no new threats against him. It was expected, being king, to have the occasional serious threat. But he trusted Sigurd implicitly. If he didn't think there was cause for concern, then Bohden was satisfied. There were a million other things he had to worry about at the celebration. He'd let Sigurd worry about this one.
The abrupt change in subject, however, was something Bohden wasn't expecting. He blinked, glancing over at his friend and bodyguard. "A meal? No, I am not hungry." He shook his head a little, pausing briefly. Then, raising his eyebrows slightly, he suggested, "Though I could use a glass of wine to relax. Take the edge off." Yes, that sounded very nice indeed. He nodded once. "I think I will have a glass. Would you care to join me?"
__________________
<><><><>
Take a little look at the life of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little harder, I really really want you to
Put yourself in her shoes.
Take another look at the face of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little closer, and maybe then you will see
Why she waits for the day...
When you ask her her name.
<><><><>
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Sigurd had been in the dining hall just moments ago, sipping atg a glass of water. Now Bohdenwas suggesting they have a glass of wine. Sigurd had no problem with that.c But no food? He wasn't so sure about that. "Yes, of course. I will fetch the wine." he said. "But are you sure you are not hungry, Majesty? I would insist on at least a helping of your favorite dessert."
__________________ The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some great ideas!
I got in a fight one time with a really big guy, and he said, "I'm going to mop the floor with your face." I said, "You'll be sorry." He said, "Oh, yeah? Why?" I said, "Well, you won't be able to get into the corners very well."
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