Assassin's Curse (18 page)

“Like you, you mean?” Jeda asked, his eyes narrowing at the old woman.

“No, not me, boy, and don’t be getting all riled up ‘cause I told you this,” Gelda replied.
 
“I’ve no designs on those little ones, no matter who they are or what some damn-fool prophecy might say.
 
I don’t think they would be safe here with me in any case.
 
I’d like to tell you for certain that I took care of that assassin following you, but he managed to slip away.
 
Still, I think I hurt him enough that he shouldn’t give you any more trouble soon.
 
Wore me out a bit though; I haven’t used an elemental spell in quite some time.”

“Thank you for that, but I thought you were a healer?”

“I am a healer, been one all of my life.”

“I didn’t know healers could cast blaster spells too.”

“If a witch is strong enough, then she can do any type of spell, but there is always a price to pay.
 
For me, when I cast an elemental spell, I am exhausted for hours, sometimes days.
 
It’s a good thing that fellow ran away; if I’d had to hit him with another blast we might not be having this conversation.”

Gelda leaned forward and probed Jeda’s wounds.
 
“Those cuts will mend well enough given time to rest, and I’ve purged you of all the infections in your body.”

“I don’t know how many times I can thank you.”

“Don’t thank me anymore, just answer me one question.”

“What’s that?” Jeda asked, apprehensive about what she might ask him.
 
Gelda had been good to him and the girls and he did not want any bad blood between them, but there were things he would not talk about with her.

“How does one become an assassin?”

“Are you asking in general or in my case particularly?”
   

“You would be most familiar with yourself, so tell me how you became an assassin.”

It took a few moments of quiet reflection before Jeda began to speak.
 
“For me, it started when I was very young.
 
I was about five years’ old and lived with my father.
 
We lived by ourselves because my mother died giving birth to me.
 
The house we lived in was just outside the city on a very small farm.
 
I remember watching my father work the fields and helping him as much as I could.
 
He would tell me stories of my mother, how beautiful and wonderful she was and how much they loved each other.
 
Though I never met her, I knew she loved me too.
 
It was the best time of my life, until it was ripped apart in a single night.”

Gelda remained still as Jeda closed his eyes in silent reflection.
 
A shudder went through his body.
 
“I remember that night like it was yesterday.
 
It started with smoke.
 
I was sleeping in my small bed and woke up in a coughing fit.
 
Smoke filled my room and when I got up to see why, I saw the house was on fire.
 
There were flames everywhere; everything was burning.
 
I tried to reach my father’s room, but a wall of flames blocked it.
 
I couldn’t get through to him and the fire came toward me.
 
I panicked and ran for the door.
 
The door was ablaze too and I thought I would die until I saw the window.
 
It was the only thing that was not covered in flames and I ran to it.
 
I pushed the pane of glass open and I climbed out.
 
I burned my hands climbing out because the windowsill was so hot.
 
I ran around the house to try and get to my father’s window.
 
I thought that if I got out by window, maybe he could too, but when I reached the back, the entire house collapsed in on itself.
 
There was nothing else I could do but watch and cry.”

“What happened next?” Gelda prompted after a few moments of silence.

“Everything after that was a blur.
 
I remember a man dressed in black roughly grabbing me and I screamed at him to help me save my father.
 
He told me my father was dead and beyond any help I could give him.
 
I think I lost my mind when he said that.
 
I screamed at him and kicked and fought him.
 
I called him a liar and a coward and tried to get away from him, but he wouldn’t let me go.
 
I think now that’s what saved my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was an assassin.
 
He had killed my father and burnt our house down.
 
I learned later that I was supposed to have died in that fire as well, but he changed his mind when he saw the fight I put up.”

“So the guild killed your father,” Gelda confirmed.
 

Jeda nodded and continued.
 
“The assassin cuffed me on the back of my head and knocked me out.
 
I woke up later in a dark room and was left alone for three days with no food or visitors.
 
There was one cup of water that I drank immediately because I was so thirsty.
 
There was a bucket for my waste, but nothing else.
 
Three days they left me by myself while I ranted, raved, cried, and screamed until I was hoarse and couldn’t talk anymore.
 
Three days while I beat the walls and doors of my prison cell until my hands and feet turned bloody.
 
Three days until the man in black finally opened the door.
 
One look at him and I launched myself at him and tried to fight the man that had taken everything from me.
 
I hated him and wanted to kill him like he had killed my father, like he had essentially killed me.
 
He took everything that I held precious away from me and I had nothing left to lose or so I thought.
 
When I finally took my waste bucket and threw it at him, he cuffed me on the back of my head and knocked me out again.”

A single tear rolled down Gelda’s face.

Jeda continued, “When I awoke the second time, there was another cup of water, but nothing else.
 
The bucket was where I had thrown it with my waste staining the wall.
 
I drank the water, sat in the dark, and waited.
 
I was so hungry, but there was no food.
 
My solitary lasted two days this time, and when the door finally opened again, I did not fight.
 
Even my young mind knew that I could not beat the man in black.
 
I didn’t even know whether the man in front of me was the same one who had brought me here.
 
After a few minutes, when I didn’t fight him, he dropped a plate of tasteless food for me and left.
 
I didn’t touch the plate for a full day, but in the end my hunger won out and I ate the food.
 
With each bite, I felt like I was betraying my father, but when I looked down the plate was empty.
 
My father was dead, but I was not brave enough to die with him.”

Jeda paused a moment, reliving those terrible childhood memories.
 
  

“This became the routine every day.
 
The man in black would come each morning, look at me, wait for me to do something, and finally drop a plate of food.
 
I don’t know how long this lasted, but somewhere in those long, dark hours alone I finally realized that I did not want to die.
 
The next time the man in black came I broke my silence and asked how long he would keep me here.
 
I hated myself for asking.”

“You were only five years’ old, a mere child,” Gelda said.

“Five-year-old boys have the capacity to love and hate and loathe themselves just as everyone does.
 
That’s how it began.
 
I was brought before a master and asked if I wanted to live or die.
 
I told him I wanted to live and he said to me:
if you would live, then you must become part of a new family.
 
My family, our family,
he said, gesturing around the room.
 
I looked around the room and saw nothing but black-faced men and women looking back at me.
 
I said nothing, but simply nodded my head as the tears streamed down my face.
 
That was the last time I have ever cried.
 
I had lost everything in my life that I cared for or loved.
 
Here they were giving me a chance to get some of that back.”
 
Jeda looked Gelda in the eye.
 
“I would not expect you to understand.”

“You might be surprised by what I understand,” Gelda said, nodding her head.
 
“Please continue.”

“My life from that moment forward became training our minds and bodies, learning how to be invisible.
 
We were taught how to read and write.
 
We were taught the etiquette of a lord, the mannerism of a drunken sailor, and the piety of a priest.
 
We were taught to plan, to organize, and to execute every conceivable type of mission.
 
Above all else, we were taught to kill.
 
Every imaginable way possible, until there was nothing left to chance.”

“How do you live with yourself knowing that the people you kill leave behind families and loved ones that depend on them?”

Jeda shook his head before answering.
 
“You make people sound like they are the innocents of the world.
 
Nothing could be further from the truth.
 
I have yet to find anyone who is not guilty of something or has nothing to hide.
 
Never have I found anyone who is completely innocent.
 
We like to think of ourselves as above the base instincts of survival, but I have learned that no one is above that.
 
I have seen brother act against brother, daughters betray mothers, fathers kill sons, and every despicable act you can imagine.
 
I have seen the ravages of war and the destitution of an entire people.
 
Humans are no better than any wild pack of dogs that will kill their own to survive.
 
You want to know how I live with myself.
 
Easy. I quit feeling long ago.”

Gelda sat for a few minutes pondering Jeda’s tale.
 
In the end, she rose, checked his bandages again, and left him to rest for the night.
 
It was a long night of thoughtful introspection.
 
She rose early the next morning to find Jeda awake and getting dressed.
 
Gelda and Anna fed and cleaned the babies, but once the babies saw Jeda, they practically jumped to get to him.

Miriam’s bond is strong within him
, Gelda thought watching the girls fuss until Jeda picked them up.
 
I hope he is up to this task.

“I would tell you to lie back down and rest,” Gelda chastised Jeda, “but I doubt you would listen to me.
 
I am still not sure how you survived that wound on your chest.
 
A cut like that is always fatal and you should have died.
 
Thank whatever gods you pray to for their intervention.”

Jeda fingered the ragged scar running down the front of his chest.
 
Gelda spoke the truth, but he had no rational explanation for what had happened.
 
The most obvious, but equally unreasonable, explanation scared him to his core.
 

“I don’t know what happened out there, but I came here because Miriam told me you would know what to do about the twins.
 
Whatever happens next, one thing is certain: we can’t stay.
 
That assassin from yesterday was just the first.
 
The guild will send more, many more.
 
I wish I had more time to stay and learn about witches and wizards, but I think it’s best if we leave immediately.
 
I wouldn’t want to put you or Anna in any more danger.”
 

“Don’t worry about Anna or me,” Gelda said with a wave of her hand.
 
“I can take care of us.
 
You need to focus on the girls.”
 

“You said that you knew why Miriam sent us to you.
 
Can you tell me why?”

“She sent you to me because I am the oldest healer in the kingdom and I know just about every healer south of Constantine.
 
I should know them because I trained just about all of them myself.”

“What good does that do for us?”

“I’m sure Miriam was thinking she had to hide the girls when she sent you to me.
 
Knowing all the healers as I do, I can give you a list of safe havens from here to the south reaches of the kingdom,” Gelda said, handing Jeda a piece of folded parchment.
 
“I have listed every village and its healer that you can trust to help you with the girls.
 
They will give you shelter, food, and whatever other supplies you need, but you shouldn’t stay in one place too long.
 
There is simply no way to hide you and the twins for any length of time.
 
If you keep moving, you should find safety in obscurity.
 
Use some of that assassin training and stay invisible.”