Not Much of a Plan

As expected, it was barely a fight.

Rakkan descended from the rooftops by kicking off the walls, landing in the alley where Morenna stood over a kneeling man with Blackwing’s tip pressed against his neck. Nearby lay a bow severed in half, a fallen quiver with arrows scattered, and a hunting knife and hand axe both kicked out of reach. The would-be assassin was bleeding from a bruised spot at his hairline where he’d been clubbed with the rapier’s pommel. Several other small wounds on his face had apparently been there long enough to grow red and inflamed.

“Quick work!” Rakkan praised. “So! Who’s this, then?”

The man sneered at him, saying nothing. He was a Rahabin with deep purple hair and unusually dark skin that suggested a life spent outdoors.

“A straggler from the group that attacked the castle,” Morenna said, shifting her sword to poke at his clothing. “Same war regalia.”

“Really?” Rakkan said. “After you saw Morenna demolish your entire squad, you decided to try it alone? Are you perhaps…not very bright?”

“Just get it over with, brat,” the man growled.

“That was mean, Rakkan. We’ve already won here, there’s no need to be an asshole.”

“You’re right,” Rakkan said contritely, “that was most unbecoming of me. My apologies. Then seriously and with all respect, why did you try it alone?”

“Because I’m the only one left!” the assassin burst out. “You destroyed my entire tribe. I’d rather have died trying than live like this! It was shameful enough I evaded capture.”

“Would your people really not take you back?” Morenna asked.

He looked away. “I don’t even know where they are. The old and the young and those who can’t fight left our home when the warriors came here. They left after we did, and we weren’t told where they were going, so we couldn’t be forced to betray them.”

“Smart play,” Rakkan said. “How’d you manage to find us, then?”

“Rakkan, you jumped off the castle walls right after a big fireworks show,” Morenna said, exasperated. “Anybody standing in the right spot could’ve seen it and where you landed. It’s actually surprising this is the only guy who followed us.”

“Enough,” the man spat. “You’ve won, children of Khellvain. I deserve a warrior’s death, at least. I’ll never see my family again, and I’ve lost all my comrades. Don’t drag it out.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Morenna said.

“Sorry?” he repeated incredulously. “You’re sorry?”

“That was sympathy, not apology. You started it. I have the right to defend myself.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Aye, that’s fair. No warrior would begrudge you that. You fought well, Black Princess. A worthy enemy indeed.”

“May we know your name, warrior?” Rakkan asked.

“I am Isindra, son of Naminos. My clan assailed you, Black Princess, because you are the blade upholding your father’s rule. We fought well and you still bested us; I acknowledge your victory. Now grant me release from my shame.”

“Since when are you the blade upholding our father’s rule?” Rakkan asked. “I don’t think you ever came down from your tower before last week.”

Morenna sighed. “You were misled, Isindra. I’m assuming by whoever helped you get into the city and avoid detection until you were ready to attack? If they told you I’m some kind of pillar of Khellvain’s power, they lied. I haven’t been a factor in anyone’s calculations until very recently, and they’re all scrabbling to figure out what I can do and what I want. Your sponsor considered your clan an expendable asset, used to learn more about my capabilities. And they didn’t even succeed in that, because of Uthien’s breakthrough in the middle of it. Your clan was destroyed for nothing.”

“And you got on my case for being mean,” Rakkan muttered. “Powers of mercy, sister, have a little tact.”

Isindra stared emptily up at them, mouth hanging slightly open.

Rakkan heaved a sigh. “Well, we clearly can’t leave things like this. Come on, up you get. We’re gonna go see a guy I know.”

* * *

“You bother me on festival night for this?” the burly man standing at the edge of the dancing crowd outside a warehouse grumbled, waving a mug of beer at Rakkan.

“Now, Tazan,” Rakkan said with his most charming smile, “it’s not like I’m asking much. Why, for as small a matter as this, do we even need to bring up the favors you owe me?”

“Aye, well, you’re not wrong,” Tazan agreed, eyeing Isindra up and down. “I had a couple men poached by a long-haul company recently; I could use more warm bodies right now. Fine, you’re hired. Be back here an hour after dawn. There’s work to be done even on festival week, but it’s relatively light work; a good time to learn the job. Not that it’s complicated, any fool can haul freight and duck his head in front of the rich clients. We work strictly inside the city walls, so no need to worry about being away from your family.”

“I…ah…that’s…not a concern…sir,” Isindra said, visibly confused.

“Well enough, then,” Tazan grunted. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Now be off, the lot of you. Let a working man enjoy a holiday.”

“Perfect!” Rakkan said cheerfully. “Off to our next visit, then!”

* * *

“You bother me on festival night for this?” the old woman exclaimed, poking Rakkan in the chest with a bony finger. “You should be at home in your cozy bed, boy!”

“But I’m not, and here we are, Mama Kanna,” Rakkan replied, grinning. “C’mon, what’s the issue? I know you’ve got rooms open.”

“Aye, s’pose I do,” she said, turning a gimlet eye upon Isindra. “Rent’s a gilden a week, or if you pay by the month I’ll knock it down to three. Paid at the start of the week, not the end!”

“Here you go,” Rakkan agreed, tossing her a coin.

She caught it, but scowled. “Here, now, only working people in my building! I don’t rent to rich failsons, kept doxies, or any manner of layabout. Those who don’t work just make noise and trash and trouble for everyone.”

“I…I have a job, I guess,” Isindra said weakly.

“Tazan just hired him on,” Rakkan added. “I’m only covering the first week until he gets paid, then he can take care of himself.”

“Aye, well, that’s all right, then,” she grumbled, pocketing the coin. “Tazan’s company? Good on you, lad. He’ll work you hard but treat you fair. All right, I’ll go fetch your key, hang tight.”

She turned and shuffled off back into the building before which they stood, right as Morenna rounded the corner and rejoined them, carrying a small bottle.

“There you are,” said Rakkan. “Where’d you skitter off to, sister?”

“I saw an apothecary’s shop that was open.”

“What kind of apothecary would be open at this hour?”

“One who likes money more than fun. People get hurt and sick during festivals; being the only one open, he’ll make a killing. All right, you, lean forward.”

Isindra blinked at her. “…what?”

“Down!” she barked, and he hastily obeyed. Morenna dipped a small flat stick into the bottle, pulling out the thick gel within, and began dabbing it carefully on the puffy red marks on his face. “Lucky for you I know what attacked you. Crows are carrion feeders; their beaks and claws are filthy, and wounds caused by them will get infected if not immediately cleaned, which you clearly didn’t do. Here, keep the bottle. Apply the salve morning and night until they fully scab over and the swelling subsides, and then for another day to be safe. And wash them first!”

“This is all we can do for you, friend,” Rakkan added. “Khellvain ignores me and seems to hate Morenna; we have no authority in the castle. All we’ve got is money and a capacity for violence. If you get found by our father’s spies, or get in trouble with the city guards, there’s nothing we can do to help. I’ll come check on you when I can, which should be in a few days.”

“I…I don’t understand,” Isindra said weakly. “Why? Why would you… I tried to kill you!”

“Yeah?” Rakkan snorted. “How’d that go?”

“We can relate to hating Khellvain,” said Morenna. “We don’t try to kill him because… Well, if we did, we’d have to either take over the Empire or let it collapse, and I don’t know which would be a bigger disaster. That’s the problem with revenge. You didn’t think about the consequences of your actions before you started trying to kill everyone, did you?”

“You’ve been through hell,” Rakkan added, “and we can’t do anything about that. All we can give you is a second chance. It’s yours to do with as you wish, my friend, but I hope you’ll try to build a life. Keep your head down, stay out of trouble, and there’s no reason you can’t heal and eventually thrive. I’ll see you in a few days.”

Mama Kanna emerged holding up a key, and the two young royals too the opportunity to slip off down an alley while Isindra was being shown to his new home.

“Why did we do that?” Morenna asked. “What was the point? He’ll probably just kill himself or get nabbed by the guard before you can come back to check on him.”

“Maybe,” Rakkan sighed. “In the worst case scenario…we got the warm, tingly feeling of doing something kind for another person. In the best, we gained an asset in the city, one not controlled or even known about by our father or Zaurgan. He may not be much, but if we keep doing this…it’ll build.”

“That’s your plan?”

“Dear sister, if I have given you the impression I have any idea what the hell I’m doing, I apologize for misleading you. This was just…the best I could think of, and I don’t really know what’ll come of it. If anything. It’s just… Morenna, I don’t think we can kill our way to a more peaceful world.”

“You…really took my speech about peace to heart, didn’t you?”

He sighed again. “Don’t get me wrong, if that’d come out of nowhere, I’m sure I’d have blown it off like I do everything else. But… You put into words some thoughts I’ve been trying to avoid dwelling on for a long time now. I think you’re right. And if you’re right, sister, killing assassins can’t be the entire plan. It’s something we have to do to make the plan possible.”

“But… I don’t have any other plan.”

“Me either,” he admitted. “I guess we know what we’ve gotta work on, then, huh?”

They walked back toward the castle in silence.