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Silas sat. Is this it? Did Favian tell them about my plans? Silas thought back to his days in the Shadow Castle. He’d seen the Shadow Master knock a boy unconscious with the slightest movement. I probably won’t see it coming, not if it’s a blade. Has any of it been worth it? I keep telling myself I have been helping others with the killing, but have I made any difference at all?
“You need to eat more,” the Master said.
“A touch of fever, my appetite is returning.”
“And your injury? You have a limp.”
“The end of a long recovery. The wound became infected. It is close to healed.”
“Good.” The Master sat back in the chair. “Despite his faults, Favian kept this city under control. There has been peace here since we monopolised the import of the Red Mist. No more gangs fighting over territory. Thanks to your combined efforts during the cleansing, of course.”
Cleansing? Slaughtering men and women so you could take over. How much coin have you collected since then? No doubt there are rooms full of it in that castle of yours.
The Master continued. “Favian kept any competing efforts at bay. I understand this is not your area of expertise, but you will take his place until a suitable replacement arrives. Favian’s people will remain loyal so long as they are paid.”
A fate worse than death? “Yes, Master.”
“Good.” The Master stood.
What about Mara? Could he not stay here with me? “And the boy?”
“A truly gifted individual. Coincidence may well see your paths cross again.” The Master walked to the door. “You will be contacted regularly.” Then left.
Silas put his head in his hands. Why? Is there no escape? Am I being punished for my wrongdoings? All the murder. He took out his blade and stared at it. I could end it all right now. Only the person having to clean up the mess would care. I would not be missed – just one cut.
He let go of the blade, and it clattered on the floor. What am I thinking? I am no coward. He looked over
his arms. Skinny. This is no good. I must gain strength.
He’d come down to the tavern with the intentions to eat but asked for ale. One became two, and two became three. Several hours later, he puked on his blade he’d left on the floor.
Mara stared at the Master, who’d been babbling for several minutes. He still had no idea what half the stuff meant. They sat among some trees on horseback, not too far away from Sevens Helm. It was dark, and the forest reminded Mara of Mother.
“It seems trouble follows you, Mara,” the Master said. “Please, do your utmost not to have your guide killed. He is escorting you to your next assignment. You will first meet a contact to gain information on what is required of you. Follow these instructions and you cannot fail. Extreme measures have been put in place to make the assignment particularly straight forward. Political assassinations usually are.”
So I have to kill someone else? Mara saw a shape in the field not far away, lit up from behind by the moon. Silas? He’s coming with me?
The Master turned to face the same direction. “Ah, here he is. This man can neither talk nor hear. There is a coin pouch in your saddlebag. Give him ten gold coins when you have met the contact, followed by the remaining ten when you reach your destination. He will make it clear when the time comes. There are some other provisions and a mask. Wear the mask when you meet the contact. Is this clear?”
“Yes.”
“You will be contacted by a brother before you carry out the task to ensure you understand what is being asked of you.”
The guide pulled up on his brown horse. The man had the most wrinkled face Mara had ever seen and wore a dirty, old poncho and a wide-brimmed hat.
“Why can’t he talk?” Mara asked.
“A birth defect.” The Master handed over a bag of coin to the silent man. “Treat this man with respect.” The Master and the Shadow with him trotted away.
“Where is he taking me?” Mara shouted after the Master. The Master didn’t reply. Bastard.
“Hello,” Mara said, mouthing the word slowly.
The guide smiled and raised a hand.
“What is your name?”
The silent man tapped his horse with his boot and moved on, nodding in the direction his horse was walking as he passed Mara.
