Assassin's Charge: An Echoes of Imara Novel Read online

  “Do not interrupt me again.”

  Sebba swallowed hard and nodded before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

  With another deep breath, Rhis picked up the brush and began again, brushing smooth strokes across the back of her left hand as a quiet servant set a tray of food on a small table near her bed.

  ***

  After the servants had cleared her meal and given her a hot bath, she sat on a cushioned chaise, leaning into thick pillows with her legs stretched out. She’d asked Sebba to retrieve her message, and he refilled her wine as she fingered the thick paper. A young girl stood behind her, running a comb through Rhis’s long, wet hair, while another massaged her feet with scented oil.

  “Who brought this?” Rhis asked, as she turned the message over. A wax seal adorned the front, sealing it closed. Although it bore no symbol, she knew who it was from.

  “A delivery boy,” Sebba said.

  Rhis nodded, then waved them all off. The girls scurried away on silent feet and Sebba bobbed his head before leaving.

  Digging her thumb beneath the wax, she popped off the seal and unfolded the paper. She chewed her lip as she read the message. It was odd. She hadn’t yet collected on her current job, and already she was being offered another. That was unusual; typically, she went weeks or even months between contracts. She thought about ignoring the request. If she didn’t respond, it would simply be passed to another. But the timing piqued her curiosity. Perhaps she would reply, if only to find out what could be so important as to require her services so quickly.

  Sebba poked his head through her curtain again. “Mistress, your evening companion has arrived.”

  Rhis raised her eyebrows. “I don’t recall arranging for anyone tonight.”

  “Ah, no,” Sebba said, rubbing his hands together. “I took the liberty of scheduling Tiber. I apologize if this displeases you. Should I send him away?”

  Rhis folded the paper and stood, adjusting her silk robe. It had been nearly a week, and the release would do her good. “No, send him in.”

  “Very good, Mistress.”

  Walking over to her small writing desk, Rhis dangled the message over a candle until it caught. The flames licked the paper; the edges curled and blackened before she tossed it into the fireplace.

  The curtain swished and a man’s voice spoke behind her. “You kept me waiting.”

  Rhis turned. “I didn’t send for you. Apparently Sebba believes I am in need of companionship.”

  The corners of Tiber’s mouth turned up in a sly smile. “Does he, now? Perhaps you should raise his salary.”

  Her eyes flicked up and down. His long sleeveless tunic was trimmed in gold thread and draped nearly to his knees, leaving his legs bare. Light stubble covered his cheeks, partially obscuring a puckered scar along his jaw near his ear, and his dark eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile.

  She nodded him in and took a few steps to meet him, then ran her hands along his muscular chest and down his thick, tanned arms. Tiber slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her close, leaning in to kiss her neck.

  “Have you missed me?’ he asked, his breath hot against her skin.

  “No,” she said, letting her body relax against his. He was warm and smelled of leather.

  “No?” he asked and nipped her ear with his teeth.

  “I missed this,” she said, reaching her hand beneath his tunic.

  He sucked in a breath as she touched him, and pulled at the tie at her waist. “And what will you do if I don’t come the next time you summon me? Will you miss me then?”

  Rhis let him pull back the fabric of her robe, lowering her arms so it slipped onto the floor. He unfastened his belt and pulled off his tunic, and she traced a finger down one of the many scars that marred his chest and stomach.

  “I would find someone else to satisfy me, obviously,” she said with a shrug.

  Tiber licked his lips as he looked her up and down. His eyes never lingered on the long pale pink slash that cut from one shoulder, across her breast, down to her opposite hip. It was why she only bedded arena fighters. They were expensive, but bore worse scars than she did. She particularly liked Tiber, because he seemed to find her disfigurement arousing.

  “No one could satisfy you the way I can,” he said.

  “Really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “We both know it’s true.” He grasped her bare hips and pulled her close.

  “And we both know you service a different woman every night.”

  “Not every night.” Tiber’s rough hands caressed her back and she shuddered with pleasure as his lips trailed down her neck. “Most nights I fight. Besides, you are my favorite.”

  Rhis rolled her eyes. “I pay your overseer very good money for a night with you. I don’t recall paying extra for conversation.”

  “An entire night?” he said as he guided her to the bed. “I have my work cut out for me.”

  Her heart thumped and heat built between her legs as she crawled backward onto the soft mattress, holding herself up with her arms.

  “Where should I begin?” Tiber asked as he climbed on top of her. He moved her legs apart and lowered himself down, the pressure of his body sending a thrill through her.

  “Be quiet and do your job.”

  THREE: NEW CONTRACT

  The cool morning air prickled Rhis’s skin as she wandered through her enclosed courtyard. Her villa might not have the sweeping views of some of the richer estates, but she’d chosen it for that very reason. There were no outward-facing windows, and the only entrance was at the front. She preferred security to ambiance.

  A young woman in a white shift dress with a blue belt handed her a goblet filled with freshly-squeezed orange juice. Rhis nodded to the servant and took it. The girl was too new for Rhis to remember her name, but she seemed to be getting along well. She was quiet at least, and that was an invaluable trait in a servant as far as Rhis was concerned. The juice was tart on her tongue as she took a sip and enjoyed the fresh morning breeze.

  “Mistress,” Sebba’s voice came from behind her. “If I might inquire?”

  “Yes,” Rhis said without turning. “What do you need, Sebba?”

  “Would it please you if I arranged for a seat at the arena this evening? It is somewhat last minute, but I believe I could find a suitable box for you.”

  “The arena?” she asked, turning to look at him. “Why would I want to go to the arena?”

  Sebba raised his eyebrows. “I simply thought you might wish to see the champion, Tiber. Since he has become a regular visitor here, I have developed a good accord with his overseer. It would be easy to arrange. Perhaps it would please you to see him fight?”

  Rhis drew her eyebrows in. “See him fight? The arena fights are of no interest to me.”

  “Ah, I see,” Sebba said, glancing down at the ground. “Please, accept my apologies. I simply thought….”

  She took another drink and handed Sebba her goblet. Despite Tiber’s insistence that she had paid for a full night, she had sent him away after he’d finished her the second time. He was a pleasant enough diversion, and certainly effective at satisfying her, but it was odd that Sebba would think she wished to see Tiber outside of her bedroom.

  “I have business to attend to,” she said as she walked past. “I’m not certain when I’ll return.”

  “Very good, Mistress.”

  The pungent scent of the spicery wafted out onto the street in front of the small shop. Rhis breathed the riot of familiar smells: hints of cinnamon, sweet basil, and cardamom mixed with saffron, cloves, and dried lavender. She opened the door and walked into the thick aroma. A woman in a long dress with a beige shawl draped over her shoulders looked up as she placed sachets of tea in a basket.

  “Good morning. Can I interest you in some tea? Fresh from Brycehowle.”

  “Thank you, no,” Rhis said. “I’m in need of garlic and ghost pepper.”

  “Of course.” The woman ushered her
past the clutter of shelves filled with tiny jars and pouches, to the back of the shop. Drawing out a key on a necklace, she unlocked the back door and held it open while Rhis went through.

  Stairs led to a basement with strands of garlic bulbs and herbs hanging from the rafters to dry. At the bottom, Rhis pushed aside a heavy brocade curtain and entered a room with a large desk, lit by oil lamps in the corners. A man with cropped dark hair sat behind neat stacks of paper and stoppered inkwells arranged in careful order on the desktop. His lined forehead indicated age, but not a speck of gray peppered his hair.

  “Rhisia Sen,” he said with a wide smile, as she let the curtain drop behind her. “What a lovely surprise to see you.”

  “Hardly a surprise, Cormant,” she said. “You sent for me.”

  “Yes, I did. I have to admit, I wasn’t certain you would come,” Cormant said. “The gods must favor me today.”

  Rhis raised an eyebrow. “Quite.”

  “Forgive my rudeness,” he said, gesturing to a tall-backed chair. “Please, sit. Can I offer you some refreshment?”

  “Must we dance each time I come here?” Rhis asked. “Why don’t we dispense with the pleasantries and move on to business.”

  Cormant pursed his lips in a pout. “I’m merely trying to make our interactions more amenable for both of us.”

  “Is that so?” Rhis said. “I think it more likely that you’re trying to coax me into disrobing for you.”

  “Rhisia Sen, you wound me,” Cormant said with a dramatic flourish. “But I must admit, a woman as exotic as yourself is such a temptation. I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of a Thayan woman.”

  Rhis crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. Cormant made advances at her nearly every time she saw him, some more veiled than others. “I’m hardly the only Thayan in Altia. I’m quite certain you’ll find something else to sate your lust. I assume you have my payment. My last contract is fulfilled.”

  “And marvelously done, I must say,” Cormant said as he handed her a pouch of coins. “You really outdid yourself. The Conclave is in a suitable uproar, and I daresay the client is ecstatic.”

  “The client’s emotional state is hardly my concern,” Rhis said as she tucked the pouch away. “Tell me about the new job.”

  “Are you sure you won’t sit and have some wine with me?” Cormant said. “I have a bottle all the way from Sunhold. It’s supposed to be the finest in the Empire.”

  “The job, Cormant.”

  He sighed and shifted the papers around his desk. “Very well, always down to business. This is an unusual contract.”

  “How so?”

  Cormant looked up, meeting her eyes. “It comes directly from the Emperor.”

  Rhis raised her eyebrows. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d accepted a contract from the Emperor. Attalonians worshiped Emperor Horadrus as a god-king, although he was intensely reclusive and rarely made public appearances. She no more believed he was divine than she believed he was as ancient as everyone claimed. She did have to admit, though, that he was either a brilliant military commander or he surrounded himself with genius, because the Empire had swallowed up neighboring kingdoms for as long as anyone could remember. Conquest led to dissent, which was good business for people like Rhis. She owed a great deal of her wealth to the god-king.

  “Directly from the Emperor?” Rhis asked.

  “I can’t say that I’m important enough to warrant an audience with His Eminence,” Cormant said, with a wave of his hand. “But it did come from the palace.”

  “You said the contract is unusual,” Rhis said, tapping her fingers along her arm. “I’ve taken contracts from the palace before. That isn’t unusual.”

  “True,” Cormant said. “But the location is.”

  “The location?” What could it possibly require? Entrance into the Emperor’s palace?

  “Well,” he said, drawing out the word, “the contract requires a fair bit of travel. It seems the target lives in a rural village on the western side of the Empire.”

  Rhis pressed her lips together, suddenly doubtful. She rarely took jobs that required travel; they weren’t typically worth the trouble, even if they paid well. There was more than enough work in Altia.

  “The location is called Harmoth, a small hamlet outside Tindale.”

  Rhis had never heard of Harmoth, although Tindale seemed familiar. “It sounds unpleasant.”

  “I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” Cormant said. “A few weeks on the road isn’t too much for your Emperor to ask of you.”

  “The Emperor isn’t asking anything of me,” Rhis said. “Not until I accept the contract, at least.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll accept,” Cormant said with a smirk.

  Rhis let out a breath and cocked an eyebrow. She hated it when Cormant got smug. “I just finished a job last night. Why am I being offered another so soon?”

  “His Glorious Eminence requested the best. Of course, my two best are in Halthas and not expected back until the invasion reaches their capital city. I have to admit, I was relieved when you declined to join them. I would have missed you terribly if you’d gone all that way.”

  Halthas was the latest target of the Empire, and she’d been offered a great deal of gold to travel there ahead of the invasion force. There must be a long list of targets to justify such an expense. Tempting as the gold was, Halthas was out of the question. “So you have a contract direct from the palace, and you’re left with only me to fill it.”

  “You are hardly an inferior choice,” Cormant said. “They will be more than satisfied to hear my number three is still in Altia. I’m sure they will be delighted if you accept.”

  Delighted was not a word she would ever ascribe to any of the palace officials. “I hate to disappoint, but I’m not interested in a lengthy trip.”

  “That may be so, but I think you will find this one more to your liking than you realize.”

  “Unless this pays an obscene amount of money, you’ve done nothing but waste my morning.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up in a wide smile. “Oh, it does, you delicious thing. ‘Obscene’ is precisely the word for it. I almost hate to tell you this, because it could mean you no longer come to see me when it’s over, but this might be the last job you ever have to take. I’ve never handled a contract this large.”

  “How much?”

  “Three hundred thousand gold Imperials.”

  Rhis pursed her lips and swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep her face still. It was considerably more than her highest contract. No wonder he’d summoned her so quickly; with his cut, he’d earn a tremendous amount of money. Rhis had no idea what sort of life Cormant lived outside this room, but she got the distinct impression that it was decadent. If she finished this job, it would set them both up quite nicely.

  “Listen,” Cormant said. “If you don’t take it, we both know I’ll pass it on to the next in line. But obviously this is important to His Eminence. He needs this to be done quickly and quietly. Who else would I trust? Even if the others were in Altia, I would have asked you first, and that’s the truth.”

  Rhis hesitated. It was a tremendous amount of money. Despite her comfortable lifestyle, she’d been storing money away, gold that even Sebba didn’t know about. By her calculations, she was a few years away from her goal, but soon she’d have enough to retire. She planned to sell her villa and move somewhere remote; buy a nice manor with a view of the sea and keep a small staff to take care of her needs. If she took this contract, she would have more than enough. She didn’t particularly mind her work, but it was only a means to an end. Cormant was right, if she completed this contract, she’d never need to take another job.

  Holding out her hand, she took a deep breath. “Fine.”

  Cormant smiled and reached into an inside pocket, producing a small folded piece of paper, sealed with a blob of wax.

  “Name, and location,” he said as he handed her the instructions. “This one needs to be q
uick and silent. I suggest you travel the first leg by ship. It’s much faster that way. It isn’t a long trip inland once you reach Sunhold.” He pulled another small pouch from a drawer in his desk. “Expenses. This should cover everything.”

  Rhis tucked away the note and pouch of money. “Thank you, Cormant. Always a pleasure.”

  “Oh, the pleasure is mine, Rhisia Sen. All mine.”

  With a nod, Rhis turned and moved the curtain aside to make her way up the stairs and out of the spicery.

  The temperature had already risen, the hard packed streets baking in the sun. Rhis wandered down toward the harbor, past stucco buildings with tiled roofs and gardens enclosed by pale limestone walls. The road ended at the public arboretum, and Rhis made her way through the gates.

  She strolled past a few visitors to a bluff overlooking the harbor. The water sparkled brilliant turquoise in the sun, and the calls of gulls carried in the air. With a quick glance to ensure she was alone, she lowered herself onto a bench and pulled out the small slip of folded paper.

  A name, and a location. That was all she was ever given. Cormant occasionally offered a few extra details or a tidbit of advice, such as his suggestion to travel by sea. But it was up to Rhis to find her mark, determine the best method of fulfilling the contract, and complete the job. She never knew the reasons behind the orders, nor did she ask. The why was irrelevant. Although, in this particular case, she had to admit a certain curiosity, given the large sum of gold involved. Who would be so troublesome that the Emperor was willing to pay three hundred thousand Imperials to be rid of him?

  She opened the paper and read the two words scrawled inside in black ink.

  Asher. Harmoth.

  A male name, if she wasn’t mistaken. He was probably a would-be revolutionary, stirring up some sort of resistance. It seemed there was always someone in the outer territories trying to assert independence from the Empire. The rebellions were squashed as quickly as they arose, rarely amounting to more than a skirmish. Usually someone like Rhis was sent in before they could escalate. As she thought about it, there was a certain logic to the large purse. With the bulk of the Empire’s army across the sea in Halthas, it was likely cheaper and more practical to pay a high-quality assassin a large sum to stop the dissent before it got out of hand, rather than let it fester and require the cost of redirecting troops such a long way.