Chapter XXXIX: Return to Azurat (Cont. III)
The farmer slowly drew himself to his feet, his head aching as he had landed among sharp rock. He looked down at his pipe and after several moments of recalling the day’s events, smashed it underneath his foot. He breathed a sigh of relief and sucked in the mountain air slowly.
“Hurry! We haven’t much time.”
The farmer groaned and collapsed into a large group of dry bushes as Forte, Ermine, Donovan, and Grail emerged from the caverns.
“Now are we all clear on what shall happen next?” Forte glanced around the group as he adjusted his weapons, glancing at Grail who nodded in understanding and Donovan shrugged, unable to dissent.
“I don’t like it, myself.” Ermine adjusted his cape and glanced over at Forte with steel eyes.
“What?” Forte turned slowly towards Ermine, Donovan and Grail sliding away from the confrontation.
“I’m not about to go and be a fool, getting myself killed by facing down with the thirteenth watcher. Now I know that you’re keeping things from us, but I don’t think now is the time to be keeping secrets.”
“If I was to tell you, your weak mind would jeopardize everything!”
Ermine sighed, “Weak mind? I think that I’m actually a step ahead of you this time, Forte. So I don’t think you should be telling me that I’m weak. Remember who was my mentor.”
“Yes, yes. The amazing Kilzane, the deadliest and most feared assassin ever to come out of our society, and yet, you are no Kilzane.” Forte reached down towards his sword and eyed Ermine cautiously.
“Well, then I doubt you’ll need me and I think we’ll be going our separate ways.”
“That cannot happen. Grail, Donovan, prepare to kill Mr. Quoral if he so much as moves.”
Ermine sneered, “Go ahead, Forte. You think you’re quick? I’ll do what everyone in the society wants to, and that’s wipe the smirk off your face.”
Forte’s eyes glistened for a moment, and then he brought his sword around, his swing rising towards Ermine’s head. The swing was fast, but not fast enough, as Ermine was moving with a great deal of speed and rolling out of the way, bringing a dagger out from under his cloak and hurling it. Forte deflected the attack as Ermine slid down the side of the hill, getting away.
Forte grimaced, “Damn him!” He turned towards the others, “Listen, Grail. Go down to that village and get two feralites or whatever transportation you can find. When you do, head for Cion Sky! I’ll be right behind you. If he gets away, he could jeopardize everything! There are certain creatures watching our minds! GO!” Forte turned and raced after Ermine, disappearing down into the village as Donovan and Grail looked at each other.
“Is he insane? We have to go alone?”
Grail nodded slowly, “We have the map. Let’s get going.”
“Why don’t we just help him kill that assassin?”
“There’s no time, I suspect,” Grail continued. “Let’s not waste time and get him angry.” The two raced down the side path, reaching the village and sneaking through the houses, finally finding several palamares grazing in a small pasture of dead vegetation. They mounted two of them and took off across the wastes, heading straight for Cion Sky.
Behind them, Forte moved through the houses of the sleeping village, his eyes searching for the stealthy assassin. His voice was a harsh whisper, “Where are you, you idiot? Do you know what you’re doing! He’s watching us! You’re going to ruin it all!” Forte slid between two buildings, following his instincts and drawing himself out into a small open center of the town near the outskirts. And then he heard the click. “Damn it.” Forte leapt, feeling the bolt sail right past his leg and bury itself in the dirt not too far away. He cartwheeled safely away and brought himself around, but there was no one there. A quick glance over to the bolt determined that it was just a regular bolt. “Not one of your specialty bolts, Ermine?”
The voice came from somewhere to Forte’s right, among the buildings. “Not for you, Forte….you don’t deserve any better.”
Forte smirked as he raced through an alleyway and leapt for one of several stacks of lumber. There was no crossbow fire. After a moment, he rose up, sliding around the wood-pile and glanced down the nearby alley. He was now on the outskirts of the village again, but he knew that Ermine was somewhere nearby. His head peaked around the next wood-pile and was greeted with a fist. As Forte brought his sword up, he felt the bolt catch him in the leg and the second sail into the wood pile’s strap, shattering the buckle. Forte looked up as the wood came rolling down in log torrents. He turned to dive and was caught on the back of the head by one of the logs. He stumbled away, rolling down a hill with the logs rolling after him.
Ermine moved from behind the wood-pile that had concealed him and hooked his crossbow back onto his bandolier. “Don’t worry, Forte. I’ll give my regards to Bethlem.” With that, the assassin turned and marched off through the wastes.