Fragments Gallery
The Assassin
It was late evening when Elfric finally decided he should leave his desk and call it a night. With faint smile he dripped some hot wax onto the folded paper lying in front of him and pressed his seal into it, sealing the last letter of the night. As he rose he ran his hand along the old varnished wood of his desk remembering, just for a moment, the countless nights spent in front of it.
He put these thoughts aside, stood, and stretched slowly. There had once been a time when he could work for longer and still be unaffected by it, but he was getting older.
Elfric froze as he felt a chill at his neck and warmth at his back. Someone was holding a knife to his throat. He’d heard and seen nothing. How’d someone get into his study? A thought occurred to him and the blood drained from his face. Was it-
"I want my freedom."
"Don't you already have that?" the stately man said slowly as he recognized the voice. The voice he’d been dreading, he tried to sound sure and confident, "You serve me so that you can be free."
"Service to you is not freedom."
"How so? You can do as you please and are beholden to no laws."
"Only free so long as I follow your orders."
"Would you not say that is a small price to pay?"
"That small price is too much milord Elfric," Stated the young man. The man’s jaw clenched in irritation, Elfric could hear his teeth grinding, and yet the knife in his hand remained steady against the Elfric’s throat.
"How so?"
The younger man ignored the question. "I'm tired of fighting your wars."
"I brought you up, I saw that you were taken care of when my men found you abandoned on-"
"You made sure that I was taken care of so you could make use of me. You wanted me trained. You wanted an assassin."
Elfric remained silent. His shoulders slumped a bit.
"You're too honourable to even deny it. For years I have been your man. Your blade in the dark. Let me go."
"Why do you come to me like this? Why not just ask?"
"Would you have accepted? No. Let me go."
"Why not just leave? I couldn't stop you."
"You have that document, the one that you spelled to be binding. It bears my signature. If I were to leave you would kill me with it. You know what I want; I want you to burn it."
Elfric deflated, what remained of his resolve dissolving. He had told no one of what that contract was really for. Somehow this man knew. Without a word he pointed to a wooden book shelf fastened to one of the walls.
"Move." said the man, pressing the blade lightly into Elfric's throat.
Slowly they walked to the shelf and Elfric pulled down a heavy book full of loose papers. Carefully he laid the book down on a nearby table, flipped to a section near the middle and after a few minutes pulled out a particular page.
Behind him the man exhaled. His breath was hot on the back of Elfric's neck. With reverent fingers the young man pulled the sheet from Elfric's grasp. His voice when he spoke was still cold, but something in the tone rang of relief.
"I'm going to let you live because you made me what I am. But if you send others after me then I will have to kill them, and then I'll be coming back for you."
"I understand... Zarief."
He felt the knife slide lightly across his skin and then it was gone. It had vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared. Nervously Elfric looked around the room and then he shivered. The room was empty, the man was gone.