Part One - Exile

Kimbra crept quietly through the interior paths leading to Fairstrom Manor. Though the humid air was thick in her lungs, she had been trained to carefully control her breathing. There in the manor, her target was located on the third story, through the second window on the eastern side of the manor. Guards were stationed throughout the grounds, but so far she had evaded them with sharp turns and careful maneuvers. Tall black boots, leather armor, and a dark cloak wrapped her form in darkness as she silently approached the manor.

A sturdy and boxed trellis attached firmly to the wall offered her a perfect place to climb without being noticed. The trellis was hollow and covered with vines and a latticed pattern that would hide Kimbra as she climbed inside. She looked in every direction to be sure no guard was passing by, and she carefully slid up the trellis. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she strained against the narrow openings that offered little holds or support. A few times brought her fear that the trellis would fall from her weight as the old wood creaked and groaned.

Kimbra finished her ascent and looked through the closed window that had two panes which opened outwardly. The room she peered into was dark, but there was a light at the far end where two people appeared to be talking. She waited until her amber eyes adjusted to the light to survey what she could before entering. The window was supposed to be left open for her. She slowly lifted the window’s pane to the right, careful not to make a noise.

The window opened, just enough for Kimbra to slide in. She closed the windowpane, then melted into the shadows to evaluate her next move. A young woman was sitting at a table on the far end of the room, platinum blonde hair long and braided at the sides. Her soft white skin and dazzling looks marked her as nobility, along with her high cheekbones and perfect posture. Her grey eyes looked concerned, nervous. She looked to be sweating, though she was hiding her nerves quite well. She was dressed in a simple white gown with lace and a bodice, no doubt something she wore to bed.

The young man was similar in that he was obviously nobility, though with dark hair and hazel eyes. He had on a tabard, hose, and boots. The tabard was purple and held the Fairstrom Crest, a gold eagle holding a spear in its claw. The black hose matched his boots and short, black hair.

The candle on the table was the only one lit, and the rest of the room held bookshelves and tables similar to the one they were sitting at. A library, Kimbra thought. Perfect for her cover. She went from shelf to shelf, hiding behind the tall bookcases as she came to the open area where the table was located. Before she approached the pair, she listened in.

“Father will be quite pleased with your courtship of Lady Adeline,” the girl said. “She is impressive, to say the least.”

“Dear sister, that is the first time you have ever liked any of the girls I’ve fancied,” the young man replied. He had a kind look that didn’t seem to register his sister’s nervous behavior. “I was beginning to think you wanted me to die a lonely old man.”

“Oh, stop,” she said. “I’m no cruel stepsister. I’ve been nothing but kind to you since mother married father.”

Kimbra recognized the pair as they talked. The girl was Lady Evelie Fairstrom, a noble of a rising house. Her mother, Lady Hellena, recently married Lord Arvis Fairstrom after the two had been widowed a year apart. The young man was Lord Navar Fairstrom, the son of Lord Arvis and heir to his lands and fortune. The fact that Lord Arvis and Lady Evelie’s mother married only a month after Lord Arvis lost his wife was a scandal at the time.

“Don’t you think we will be fast friends if you choose to wed?” Evelie said, sipping a cup of tea. “I’d like to invite her over soon. Would you like that?”

“Of course, dear sister,” Navar said.

“You are quite accommodating, brother,” she replied, nearly spilling her tea.

That was the coded phrase she was waiting for. Kimbra was to attack Navar and kill him after the sister said those words.

Kimbra sprung out from the shadows, dagger in hand.

“No! No, wait!” the stepsister screamed.

“The nines,” Kimbra said, realizing that the young man would be alerted now. She continued her advance, ready to get this assignment over with.

Lady Evelie threw herself in front of her brother, determined to stop Kimbra’s assault.

“You little fool,” she whispered, grabbing the girl’s wrist and throwing her aside.

The young man stood trembling before her, but seemed more concerned for his stepsister than himself. “Take what you want, but leave my sister unharmed!” he said, trying to put on a brave face.

At that moment she caught a glimpse of his eyes. Fierce, protective, desperate to save his sister. She hesitated, a memory flooding her head before she could prevent it.

“Please, I don’t want you to do this,” the young woman said. “Just leave.”

Voices from the hallway in the interior of the house warned Kimbra that guards were on their way. She should finish the job, she knew. No changes in contract were allowed once a hit was ordered. Still, the terrified faces of these siblings, the regret and shame on her face…it was all too much. Kimbra slammed her fist into Navar’s face as he crumpled to the ground, then took a bag of gold and his ring. Afterwards, she roughly grabbed Evelie and took her necklace and ring.

“Don’t ever take him for granted again,” she said, “or I’ll come back to finish you.”

The girl was sobbing, but she nodded in understanding. Kimbra ran to the window. She slid down the trellis and ran as fast as she could toward the exit. There was no time for hiding as the guards would be crawling all over the property looking for her. A guard saw her, yelled, “Halt,” and drew his sword. Before he could raise it, she slammed into him, pushing him into a tree as his helmeted head smashed into the trunk. A solid blow to his face by the butt of her dagger knocked him out. Kimbra continued her escape, looking for the quickest exit. The southern entrance was her best bet, but she’d have to get through two guards to get out. She threw a large stone into the bushes several yards away, and the two guards started running in that direction. Quickly, she scaled the wall and hopped over the tall spikes preventing her exit. Sliding down, she continued her run into the night.

From there she ran toward the river she had used to circumvent the guards around the perimeter of the estate. She found the small boat she had arrived in and set off, hoping the chaos of her attack would center everyone away from her location. Thankfully, it did.

After she left the river, she found her horse, Starlight, nervously tied to the tree she left her at. Untying the rope, she mounted her lily-white steed and rode as hard as she could toward the safehouse for the Herodras. It was several miles away, but she dared not stop for the night, lest a hunting party from the Fairstrom estate find her. She took back roads and cut through woods to avoid being seen, and upon finally approaching the safehouse she tied her horse to a post and entered.

Her key opened the safehouse’s outer door, then the next door at the entryway after crossing the small courtyard surrounding the main manor. A certain turn of the key would open the locks which were otherwise un-pickable. After all, it was a safehouse for the premier assassin’s guild in Leandras, the former capitol of the Northern Kingdom. The guild supplied nobles, and even the Lord of Leandras, resources to get rid of nuisances large and small all over the once-united Kingdom.

There was a click as she maneuvered the key with the proper sequence of turns. After the entryway there was a common room with couches, a coffee table, a kitchen up and to the right, a privy to the left, and doors on either side. One led to a meeting area with a table and chairs, and the other to a hallway that held bedrooms for assassins staying in the safehouse. No one was home at the moment, which Kimbra was happy about. She didn’t want to face anyone in the guild right then. She opened the door to the left and found her room, opening the lock with a series of turns that only she knew. Once inside, she fell on the bed, exhausted from the night’s disaster.

“Why didn’t I just kill him?” she asked herself. The obvious answer was the memory of her brother. When they were five, her brother Sark had defended her when slavers took them and sold them to the Herodras. That same fire in his eyes when he unsuccessfully defended Kimbra was in that boy’s face as he defended his treacherous sister.

After all, it was the nobleman’s stepdaughter who paid the guild to kill her stepbrother. The reason was obvious. With her brother dead, she would inherit the land and the wealth once her father died. Evelie was obviously having a crisis of conscience, and Kimbra guessed that someone had put her up to this. What no one had counted on was that the girl loved her brother and chose him over greed. That alone was hard for Kimbra to understand.

She didn’t love anyone that much. Not her mentor, Tavandis, who had trained her and taken her in when she was only five. Not any of the boys, and later men, who had caught her eye, all turning out to be pigs or fools not worth her time. Not her parents, who were worthless drunks and gamblers that sold her and her brother into slavery. She had only ever loved her brother who defended her from the Herodras. It was that one act of defiance, that one act of pure love when her brother fought for her, albeit unsuccessfully, that had stayed her hand tonight.

It was an act that would probably get her killed.

In the Herodras Guild of Assassins, a person who failed to complete an assassination was usually put to death. Sometimes there was a trial, but usually a hit would be put on the assassin and their life cut short. Would the client changing her mind last-minute alter that?

No. Kimbra knew better. Her best bet would be to run. Still, running would only put a greater target on her back. Maybe she could fix this. If only…A sound broke her thoughts as she pulled her knife out of her sheath. Opening her door, she snuck into the common room to see who was coming in. If certain assassins entered the door, she knew they were there for her. There were specific members dedicated to keeping order in the guild. Maybe she could attack before she was killed.

A sigh of relief came out when she saw a familiar face, tall, good looking, strong, in his mid-forties, with graying hair and bright blue eyes. He wore brown leather armor and a matching brown cloak, with black boots and gloves. He had a longsword at his side and had the most disarming smile of anyone she had ever seen.

“Kimbra, are you hiding back there?” the man said in a deep, soothing voice.

She hesitated for only a second. “I’m here, master.” Kimbra lifted her hood, showing long, flowing black hair and soft, white skin. She was from the north, as were most slaves brought to the capital through war and the lucrative slave trade.

Tavandis sat on the couch as Kimbra let out another sigh, happy that it was him and not a guild enforcer. “Have a seat, Kimbra.”

She did, on a couch next to the one he sat on. She was still nervous, not knowing how this would go.

“I didn’t kill the target,” she started. Honesty was the best policy when it came to the man who had trained and watched over her all those fifteen years.

“I know, there was a plant in the manor that kept an eye on things,” he replied.

That was fast. So fast that it couldn’t be by mistake. A pit formed in her stomach.

“The client changed her mind,” she said, almost pleading. “She threw herself in front of her brother. I couldn’t just kill him after that. It would have been against the client’s wishes.”

“You decided killing him would serve no purpose,” he said, playing with a glass he had filled with cider. “I was wondering, Kimbra. You knew the rules. Why did you fail to carry out the hit?”

“I’ve never had a client do that before,” Kimbra said. “It caught me off guard.”

“You know the price, Kimbra,” Tavandis said coolly. “We can’t let clients think they can change their minds. It would jeopardize our whole operation. The Herodras never forgive, and they never forget.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Kimbra said. “I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

“You think I’m disappointed?” her master replied softly. “I’m impressed, Kimbra.”

Now she was confused. The room started spinning as she wondered what was happening. “I don’t understand, master. I thought…”

“You’re a killer, my dear,” he said. “You were trained to be a sword for spoiled aristocrats and corrupt lords and ladies unworthy of their titles. I made you that, and you’ve killed countless people without question. But today, you hesitated when the kill didn’t make sense anymore. You are clearly not just a weapon.”

“So, am I to be targeted?” she said.

“No, I’ve arranged for the narrative to say that before the hit, there was a change in plans,” Tavandis answered. “You were to stage a robbery and make it look as if the stepsister’s faithfulness was without question. No assassination required. Payment has already been made, after all.”

“But won’t they know that’s a lie?” Kimbra said, shaking.

“Only myself, as I handled the contract personally,” he replied, smiling deeper. “However, you will no longer be in the Herodras. You are not a weapon anymore. Weapons do not think for themselves.”

“Is that even a possibility?” Kimbra said. “I didn’t think you could ever leave.”

“It’s not common, but it does happen,” Tavandis said. “It’s too late for me, but I think you’re young enough to have a life outside of killing. You deserve that much. You’ve served me well and I have a great fondness for you. You’re the closest thing to a daughter I’ll ever have.”

Kimbra swallowed hard at this confession. She had never heard this before, and it touched her heart deeply to hear those words. In her short, pathetic life she had never heard such things. “Master, I…”

“What’s important is that you don’t ever get the attention of Herodras after today. I’m afraid they look down on former members. So…this is goodbye. You have your life now. Don’t waste it.” Her mentor touched her shoulder and regarded her with kind eyes. She returned the gaze, letting go of her normal veil of cold indifference.

“Thank you, Master Tavandis,” she said. “For everything.”

With that, she went to her room and gathered her things, handed her former master the key, and left the safehouse. Mounting up, she rode as far away from the safehouse as she could until she ran out of road.

Now what? she said to herself. Tavandis had given her the greatest gift she had ever received. After fifteen long years, she was finally free. But where would she go? First, to her hidden cache of weapons and wealth. Long ago she had found a spot to hide her possessions. She didn’t trust any Herodras safehouse with her valuables, and for good reason. Never trust a thief, especially an assassin, Tavandis had said on more than one occasion. She wondered if she could trust his words now. Was she really free? What if he said what he did to lull her into a false sense of security?

No, that wasn’t his style. If Tavandis wanted her dead, she would have been killed already. Weariness was overtaking her, but Kimbra was determined to push through until she arrived at the spot. It was a hollowed-out tree just a few miles from there. She arrived quickly, grabbing the gold, daggers, and personal items she kept hidden. Her whole life was in this spot. It was incredibly sad to her, beyond pathetic. This is what fifteen years had gotten her—a lousy pile of gold and a few weapons. At least this would be enough for her to start over. Maybe she could find a thieves’ ring to join or do some freelance work as an assassin somewhere near the capital.

That won’t do, she thought. She needed to get out of Leandras. Perhaps she could head south toward the Tamerin Expanse. Mountains, small towns and quiet valleys awaited her there, perfect for people wanting to be forgotten. One thing was certain…She wanted nothing to do with the Herodras. They had taken away enough of her life. She wanted to live for herself now, whatever that entailed.

About a mile from the secret stash there was an old, abandoned shed where Kimbra had often stayed when she needed to keep out of sight after a job. It had a bed and was near a creek that boasted a few fish if someone had the patience to catch them. She slept in the old straw bed fitfully, one eye always open, as she was still worried that someone would show up to end her life.

When no one did, Kimbra awoke and set off toward Andolin, a trading post connecting the Tamerin Expanse with the rest of the Northern Kingdom. She still used the back roads, not wanting to draw any attention. Though she had escaped Fairstrom Manor and the Herodras, Kimbra couldn’t help but feel the clawing hands of fate reaching for her.

No more thinking, she said to herself. Kimbra was tired of always being on the alert, always focusing on her next mission. The Herodras was built on the constant movement of its pawns. No one got a break, not even the leaders. So instead of planning her next move, she took in the cool breeze and enjoyed her first real taste of freedom. Was it real? She couldn’t tell. Her daggers were always at the ready, her hands twitchy and anxious. She wondered if she would ever be at ease.

The orange and blue of sunrise stretched over the horizon as she left her old life as an assassin behind her.

Urging her steed forward, Kimbra rode Starlight the entire day, stopping only once for water and a quick meal for her and her horse. She had run out of rations and was determined to reach Andolin by nightfall so she could restock and stay at a nice, cozy inn. As twilight approached, she saw the rising smoke of fires puffing, signaling the town’s presence less than a mile away. Just as she was reaching the final stretch, she saw a curious sight ahead of her.

It was a broken-down wagon, and a scene was unfolding next to it. A woman, by herself, stood down a group of men surrounding her.