“Yes.”
“Pull the weed and all its roots so it doesn’t grow back?”
The Commander smiled. “Exactly. Take as many soldiers as you need.”
“All right, but I’ll leave Ari in charge of security.”
“Are you worried I’ll be targeted again?”
“No. I’m concerned our security forces will revert back to their old ways while I’m gone. Ari will ensure the castle guards and your detail follow the new procedures I’ve implemented.”
“And save yourself some work.”
“Exactly.”
“When do you plan to leave?” the Commander asked.
“I’ll need time to organize my people, brief them and collect supplies. I expect small teams to leave the complex after sunset. Better to travel at night just in case anyone’s watching the castle for unusual activity.”
“Keep me updated if possible.”
“Yes, sir.” Valek finished his drink and left.
He crossed the hall to his apartment. Margg had lit the lanterns in his living room. And even though a warm yellow glow coated the furniture, his piles of books and his heaps of carving rocks, an emptiness hung in the air. The challenge and thrill of the hunt had dulled somewhat. Valek paused at the door to Yelena’s old bedroom. Maybe if he wished hard enough, she’d appear in the threshold. And probably admonish him for being so maudlin. At least with shutting down the smuggling operation, he’d have an excuse to travel to Sitia and see her.
Before going to bed, he sat at his desk and wrote a list of people for the mission. Then he outlined a few ideas on how to optimize their strike, using the three key ingredients for success—surprise, speed and intensity.
Valek glanced at his collection of weapons hanging on the wall. His favorite knife hung in the center. Those three elements had been vital in assassinating the King.
That night remained crystal clear in his memories. Once he was in position—wedged between the ceiling and wooden rafters of the Queen’s receiving room—Valek waited. It wasn’t long before the King arrived with his six guards. When the King entered her bedroom, Valek would have mere seconds to disable the guards before the King realized the Queen had been poisoned.
The guards fanned out. Two by the Queen’s bedroom, two near the entrance and two by the windows. Valek pressed his blowpipe to his lips. His left hand clutched the other darts. He had a clear shot at four of the guards. The ones by the window would be harder.
As soon as the Queen’s bedroom door clicked shut, he targeted the guards by the entrance, hitting them in their throats. Then he hit the two by the door. The guy on the left swatted at his neck as if he’d been bitten.
“What the...?” The first guard held a dart between his finger and thumb, showing it to his partner.
The gig was up. Valek dropped to the ground and spun. He threw his last two darts at the men by the window.
“Hey!” one of them yelled, pointing to Valek.
The others drew their swords and advanced. Valek stood in the middle of a tightening circle, hoping the sleeping potion would kick in before they skewered him.
The King rushed into the room, his face ashen. “Help me! The Queen is...” He stopped, taking in the situation.
The guards paused. “Orders, my lord?”
“Did you kill my Queen?”
“Yes,” Valek said.
“Kill him,” the King ordered.
Only one tactic worked when encircled. Valek lunged at the weakest point—the first man he’d hit. The blasted potion finally started to affect the big brute. Valek knocked him down and grabbed the man’s sword.
Deflecting the other blades, Valek remained on the defensive while he waited for them to be overcome. The King urged them on. Valek ducked and dodged, earning more than a few cuts before they all collapsed to the ground.
“Are they all dead, too?” the King asked in an icy monotone.
“No. They don’t deserve to die.” Valek wiped blood from his eyes. A cut on his forehead stung.
“And I deserve to die? You’re not the first to think this, nor will you be the last. Who sent you? That young brat from the diamond mines?”
“You sent me.” Keeping a firm grip on the sword, Valek stepped over one of the fallen guards.
He laughed. It was a harsh sound. “In that case, you’re fired.”
“Nice try, but you set me on this path. You are responsible for your own death.” He moved closer.
“I’m sure you have a sob story, but I don’t care. And unless you’re a master-level magician, you soon won’t care, either. Death has a way of eliminating all your problems just like that.” The King snapped his fingers.
A bubble of stickiness enveloped Valek. It pressed on his face as if trying to suffocate him. Probably was—the King was known to strangle his enemies with his power because he didn’t wish to get his hands dirty. Valek pushed through the magic, advancing on the King.
The King of Ixia frowned. The air around Valek turned to sludge. Drawing a breath took effort; stepping forward was like wading through thick syrup. It was difficult to move, but not impossible. Two more strides and the King would be within striking distance of his sword.
The first gleam of fear shone in the King’s eyes as he bent to retrieve a sword from one of his men. If the King had any skills with the weapon, Valek might be in trouble. Hard enough to walk through the magical mire... He couldn’t imagine fighting in it.
Another push forward and Valek reached the strike zone. The King of Ixia slid into a defensive position and raised his sword. Not good. However, Valek would not let this man walk away from this fight. As he had said to Hedda five years ago, if his last breath was one second after the King’s he’d die a happy man.
Determined, Valek summoned all his energy and attacked. The King blocked and they launched into a back-and-forth exchange of strikes and blocks. The thin metal rapiers sang with the contact. The monarch knew how to handle a blade and Valek had trained with mostly thicker, heavier swords, which required more muscle than speed. Valek’s parries went too wide, leaving his middle exposed. Plus the sticky air dragged at his arms and legs.
The King of Ixia took full advantage of Valek’s clunky style. With a flick of his wrist, the tip of his blade snaked past Valek’s defenses and cut a path up Valek’s right arm. Sharp pain registered for a moment, but he was too busy dodging the King’s next lunge to dwell on it. More cuts followed. Blood soaked his sleeves.
Then Valek miscalculated a strike and parried too late. The tip of the King’s blade pierced his flesh near his left hip. Valek gasped as his body jerked. It felt as if he’d run full speed into the edge of a desk. Shock waves rippled through him, sending a cold skittery pulse to his extremities.
The King smirked as he drew back. “You have enough magic to counter mine. It’s a shame the same can’t be said for your fighting skills. Is there anything you’d like to confess before I kill you? I hear it can be quite...cathartic.”
There was no way in hell this corrupt son of a bitch would live to see daylight. Valek envisioned his brothers. Imagining their ghosts standing here watching the fight, he drew strength from them and, it seemed, also advice. Vincent bared his teeth and made a stabbing motion. Valek returned his attention to the task at hand. The pain faded as he focused on what he’d worked so hard for.
“I do have a confession,” Valek said. “I’m not a magician. I’m an assassin.” Valek threw the sword down and pulled his knives—one for each hand. “I just forgot for a moment.”
He surprised a laugh from the King. Then Valek attacked, and the King was no longer smiling. Even with magic pressing down on him, he kept a quick pace, forcing the King to backpedal. The man doggedly blocked the knives.
As the fight continued, sweat ran down the King’s face as his responses
slowed. Using magic appeared to be as draining as resisting it. The heaviness around Valek disappeared at the same time the King launched an energetic counteroffensive. The man was smart to concentrate his strength on his sword. Too bad for him that Valek’s knife-fighting skills had been honed by five years of practice.
Without the presence of magic to slow him down, Valek disarmed the King within a few moves. Valek pushed him against the wall, pressing the edge of one blade on the King’s neck, and the other blade poked into his royal stomach just below the breastbone.
Panic reddened the King’s face. “I can pay you ten times what your client offered.”
“Not interested.”
“I’ll make you a general.”
“No.”
“My daughter! You can marry her and become a prince.”
“Aren’t you a swell dad. Sorry, but I’ve met your brat of a daughter. That would be worse than death.”
“I’ll give you anything.”
“Good. After you die, I want you to explain to my three brothers why your soldiers murdered them in your name.” Valek stabbed his knife up into the King’s heart.
The King’s magic exploded, propelling Valek back. The King of Ixia stumbled forward clutching the hilt of the knife. He gasped, “My blood...will...stain...your hands...forever.” And collapsed.
Valek knelt next to the King and watched the life fade from his gaze. He listened for that last shuddering breath. And once the man died, Valek endured a tumult of emotions. Joy, relief and satisfaction spun around his racing heart. The euphoria rushed to his head. He sat back on his heels, overcome for a moment.
Now he could live his life. If he lived through the takeover, he’d be able to serve the Commander and purge Ixia of the King’s rot.
But first, he needed to finish the job and eradicate the roots. Valek stood. All the aches and pains from the fight flared to life, demanding attention. He inspected the stab wound near his left hip bone. Blood oozed from the puncture. It hurt like crazy. At least it wasn’t gushing and he could still move.
Focusing on the positive, he climbed out the window. Not much time left for him to visit the King’s two children, three nephews, one sister-in-law and one brother before the King’s corpse was discovered. While Valek had enjoyed thrusting his knife into the King’s heart, he didn’t relish this task.