The girl landed on the blackened body’s shoulder then jumped away with a final burst of flame as an insult to Almecho’s dead friend. Seth’s body propelled forward. Almecho leapt, barely managing to catch the body.
“Seth? Seth?” Almecho spoke, his voice weak as he held his friend’s smouldering body in his arms. The flesh was still hot and it burned his hands but he didn’t care.
“Seth...” Almecho whimpered. The face was burnt beyond recognition. The eyelids had been completely burnt off and Seth’s eyes had burst from the heat. The sight of thick yellow liquid oozing from the holes where his eyes should have been would haunt Almecho forever.
“Almecho! Where is the assassin?”
Footsteps in the hall.
The guards had returned after taking his injured father to safety.
“Son! Where is she?” It was Gauld. He looked down at the charred body Almecho held in his arms. “Whose body is this?”
“Seth,” Almecho managed with a choke.
Gauld knelt down beside Almecho and put a hand on his godson’s shoulder. “Son, I’m sorry.”
Almecho said nothing, cradling his friend’s body close to his chest.
Seth was dead. The person he’d grown up with, a friend indistinguishable form a blood brother, was dead.
“Son, we have to go. You have to go. Your father wishes to see you.”
Almecho lay his fallen friend’s body gently down on the ground. He turned to Gauld. “Send out the guards to every corner of the village. If they find the assassin, tell them to not engage her directly. She’s mine to kill,” he said in a quiet tone.
“Son…” Gauld was frightened of the calm look in Almecho’s eyes. He had seen the same expression in his friend Ilalka’s face a long time ago. The events of that day served to remind him how fierce Ilalka could be. And now, he could see how fierce the man’s son could be as well.
“That’s an order Gauld.”
“Very well. I shall send the word out. But you have to go see your father now,” Gauld said.
Almecho nodded. He looked down at Seth’s body. “I’ll tell Seth’s family myself of what happened.”
“I understand son. Now go see your father. He is in the underground guard’s quarter.”
Almecho walked away as if in a daze. Only a few hours ago he had been joking around with his friend. And now he was dead. Was this what had happened at Lahamrab? Had the girl infiltrated and assassinated their Chief before the army Arnold had spoken of had invaded–
The army!
He had completely forgotten about it. An army was headed for Raganad! He started running; his father needed to hear about this immediately. Ilalka would know what to do.
He jumped down whole flight of stairs and ran along a dimly lit dark corridor until he arrived at the underground quarter Gauld had spoken of.
“Halt!” a voice cried.
A dozen men emerged from the shadows, clad in metal armour and wielding spears. The Twelve. They were the strongest fighters in Raganad, with only Ilalka and Almecho himself stronger than them, and were sworn to protect its Chief. If the assassin had come here, she would have been overwhelmed. She may be able to defeat them in an individual battle but could not hope to defeat all twelve of them at once, especially now that she had two broken arms. His father would be safe here.
“Who are you?”
“It’s me, Almecho.”
One of the guards brought a dim torch next to Almecho’s face. “Glad to see you are safe sir. What happened to the assassin?”
The image of Seth’s dead body came rushing back to Almecho’s mind. He bit his lip to keep his himself under control. Now was not the time to become emotional.
“She escaped,” Almecho said. “I want half of you to go look for her.”
The guard hesitated.
“I have broken both her arms. She will not be coming here with her injury. So, I want half of you to go look for her. However, she may still prove to be dangerous with her ability to control and create fire. Just hold her off if you find her and send one of your men to fetch me. I’ll deal with her personally.”
“Sir…”
Almecho stepped forward.
“I want half of you to go look for her. Now.”
The guard bowed. “Yes sir.”
He barked orders and six men walked away to look for the red haired assassin. Almecho watched them go and then turned and entered the room where Ilalka was.
Initially built as a wine cellar, the place had been turned into a guard’s quarter for the Twelve. There were three beds on either side of the room. On any night, only six of the Twelve would sleep here while the other six would be out patrolling. Raganad had been peaceful and Ilalka stressed that the men needed rest to perform to their potential.
Ilalka was laying on one of those beds at the far end. He had been bandaged on his shoulder where he had been stabbed but there was nothing covering his father’s burnt chest. The Twelve were not doctors after all.
Almecho rushed to his father’s side. “One of you go fetch Amelia.”
“We’ve already sent for her,” answered the guard standing by the door.
The Twelve. Ever efficient.
“Father? How are you feeling? Gauld said you wanted to see me.”
Ilalka opened his eyes and looked at Almecho. “My shoulder stings a bit and I can’t feel my chest. Otherwise, I would say I am doing great.” His smile turned to a frown when Almecho did not respond to what he thought was a witty reply. “What’s the matter son?”
And Almecho, who had managed to hold himself back all this time burst into tears. “She killed him father. She killed Seth.”
Ilalka was taken aback by the news. Seeing Almecho unharmed, he had assumed his son had managed to beat the girl or at least force her to retreat with no other casualties. And of all the casualties, did it have to be Seth? He felt a rising anger at the assassin.
“I’ll kill her,” Almecho continued. His teary face had been replaced by a red expression of fury. “I’ll burn that bitch alive the same way she burned him father.”
Ilalka was shocked at the seething anger flowing out of Almecho. He had never seen his son this furious. Ever since childhood, Almecho had been calm and quiet. He reached out and grabbed his son’s hand in a gesture of comfort.
“In due time son,” he said. “We have more pressing matters at hand.”
Almecho looked up at his father for a moment, as if trying to remember something. Then his expression cleared and he said, “There is an army coming for Raganad.”
“An army?” Ilalka frowned.
Almecho straightened his back and spoke locking gaze directly with his father. “I have reason to believe Lahamrab has been destroyed father. I found Arnold out in the desert today. He was heavily wounded and hardly conscious. He kept repeating that an army was coming for Raganad next.”
“If he was hardly conscious then how can you be so sure of his words?”
“He correctly predicted the attack on you and identified the assassin.”
“Where is he? I want to speak to him directly.”
“He was being tended by Amelia. I’ll ask the guards if they can bring him to you.”
“No. From what you said he seems to be more injured then I am. I can walk. I will go to him.”
Almecho wanted to protest but, seeing the stern look on his father’s face, decided to shut up. It was then that the door opened and Amelia walked in with a bag slung by her side.
Upon seeing the black chest of her Chief, she ran to him and knelt down beside his bed.
“How did this happen?” she asked, bewildered.
“The assassin who was sent to kill me had abilities,” Ilalka said.
“Is this the only place you’ve been hurt?”
“There’s a small stab wound on my shoulder but that should heal with a few stitches. If you could please focus on my chest,” Ilalka said.
Almecho watched as Amelia gingerly examined the burn wound on his father’s chest. She retrieved the same green paste that she had applied on Arnold’s wound and started spreading them on Ilalka’s chest. His father winced in pain but otherwise said nothing.
“This is fire wound is deep.” She threw a look at Ilalka’s face, strained from trying to keep his face straight through the pain. “I see you can feel the pain.”
“Of course I can,” Ilalka sputtered.
“That’s good. This means while the fire wound is deep, it’s not deep enough to damage your organs. Although, recovery will hurt very much. Have you had any water since your injury?”
“None.”
Amelia looked at Almecho who promptly understood what he had to do. He motioned to one of the Twelve and asked him to fetch a pail of water for Ilalka.
“You need to keep hydrated at all times,” Amelia said to Ilalka. “I can’t do much right now in this dim light. I will work on your burn wound tomorrow.”
“What do you plan to do?” Almecho asked.
“First, I will have to peel all the dead and burnt skin away. Then, I will apply some lotion – not this paste – that will help with the healing and then dress the wound. It will take some time and will leave a rather huge scar but your father should recover completely.”
“Of course I will recover completely,” Ilalka said. “I wish to see the assassin’s look on her face when she realizes that she failed to kill her target.”
Amelia turned to Almecho. “Where’s Seth? He rushed here to find you and your father. Did you get his message?”
“Seth is dead. She killed him,” Almecho stated. His eyes welled up again as he gave her a sad look. Amelia hesitated for a moment and then hugged Almecho tightly.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I am going to kill her.”
Amelia said nothing, opting to continue holding Almecho tightly. They stayed like that for a while. Finally, Almecho pushed against her grip and broke their hug.
“You will avenge him. I know you will,” Amelia said. “But for now, I want you and your father to know that there is an army headed for Raganad. They are due to arrive here by tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning?”
“Yes. It’s a huge army according to Arnold.”
“It has to be. They couldn’t have conquered Lahamrab otherwise.”
“We have to get ready for their arrival then. Father, what should we do?”
Ilalka, who had dozed off, woke up with a start at the mention of him. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening to you. The pain from my chest and my shoulder is killing me.”
“Ah, I forgot to take a look at your shoulder.” She fished inside her bag for a thread and a needle in order to sew the stab wound if it was big enough to need stiches. She then walked over to the other side of the bed and then removed the bandage from Ilalka’s shoulder.
Almecho and Amelia gasped. The stab wound seemed to have decayed a week’s worth in a matter of minutes. The area around the wound had darkened and a dark brown liquid was oozing from the wound. Amelia recognized the pungent smell that had come off the wound as soon as she had taken off the bandage.
“Almecho, the knife your father was stabbed with was poisoned. He’s dying.”
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