It was then, amidst the ranting voices in my head, that my master began describing our next assignment. "Ashana," I heard him say. 'The woman's name is Ashana." I willed the voices to stop, and I listened.
"Her father is dying. The brother can't stand the idea of his sister receiving their full inheritance, and he says that's what will happen if she lives. I guess the father's made special arrangements of some kind."
No wonder that. But now I knew for certain he was talking about my Ashana.
"He's investigated local laws and says that if his sister is dead, he'll be rightful heir to his family's property."
Rightful heir. The words stung with their inappropriate-ness. How could he refer to Menge as the rightful heir to anything? The slug was lucky the family hadn't turned him out long ago. Every neighbor knew well enough that he dragged disease-ridden women in with him every night after he'd had his fill of ale and spirits. I'd heard that when his father had been well, he'd beseeched the clod to show more respect for their home. But apparently Ashana's father was too good a man to throw his own son out.
The irony was that Ashana undoubtedly would continue to support her brother regardless of the terms of an inheritance. How could Menge not recognize his own sister's radiant spirit?
How could Renek be talking seriously about killing Ashana-this splendid young woman who had shown an interest in me? She was no thug, no murderer. She wasn't even a self-righteous apprentice.
I didn't know what to think or do or say. As Renek continued his description of the assignment, I was suddenly aware that the only emotion in his voice was that sick bit of excitement he always displays before a hunt.
I felt I had to do something, but I was at a loss. Renek was, after all, my master. I was indentured to him for a lengthy term of service, and it was not my place to challenge his business doings.
But I remembered the way that Sil had looked at me, and I finally blurted the only business question I could think of: "The brother-" I didn't say his name "-has a terrible reputation. How can you be sure you'll be paid?"
Renek reined his horse to slow it and glanced at me. "He paid in advance."
I was trying to imagine how he could have, but Renek completed the thought.
"Apparently, a long time before the father got sick, he had set aside his wife's jewelry-she's dead, I guess. Anyhow, he'd put the jewelry away for his daughter's dowry. Menge -that's the client-told me he staged a robbery to take the stuff. Steals his sister's dowry and then has her killed. A really nice fellow, don't you think?" Renek laughed at his little joke. My stomach twisted.
Then Renek started explaining how he would handle the case. I wanted somehow to find just the right words to make him stop, to get rid of this whole ridiculous notion and go on with his business-elsewhere. I could think of nothing appropriate, given my status, but I spoke again anyhow. I actually interrupted him. "Aren't you kind of worried about assassinating someone so close to home?" I asked.
"Tine, I didn't think you concerned yourself with such matters." His tone said he didn't think I should concern myself with such matters.
"I-I-"
He waved me to silence. "Really, Tine. You don't need to worry for me. This isn't the usual high-visibility political killing, with some notorious person wanting to take credit for the assassination. No one will even know I'm involved."
He stopped his horse and turned to face me. "If you'd seen the dowry, you'd know why I'm doing this. It's no ordinary sampling of jewelry. I don't think many men make that kind of a haul when they get married anymore."
Greed. Simple greed. That's why so close to home. That's why Ashana… My stomach twisted again. I don't know if he could sense any of my dismay, but he spurred the horse and started on again.
I couldn't do this-couldn't be involved, couldn't let it happen. But what could I do?
Voices started in my mind again. I kept seeing the look Sil gave me before he died. "Liar! Murderer! You betrayed me!" I could hear his voice, cracking, frantic. How could I keep those words from being Ashana's?
"-strangle her." Renek's words jarred the questions from my head.
"What?" I asked too loudly.
"It will look as if a common thug broke into the home. I'll strangle her, take a few things, and leave."
He planned to kill her with his bare hands.
"You're not even going to need to get involved in this one," he said. His voice rose with excitement as he continued. "Menge doesn't have the stomach to do it himself or he would. He'll make sure the door is unlocked…"
Renek was an assassin, a professional. He used arrows, darts, tools for his work. I couldn't fathom how he could think of killing someone with his bare hands. To grasp someone around the throat and hold the neck, squeezing while the person flailed, watching while the eyes bulged…
The voices started again. I knew I needed a clear head. I needed to think, figure out what to do. "Their father," I stalled. "Will he live much longer? Is Menge anxious for his death, too?"
"Menge suggested that if I strangled Ashana in front of their dad, the old man might keel early from the shock. I don't know, though. That's kind of creepy. I wouldn't want his ghost rising up and coming after me."
Now, there was a sense of perspective. He found that idea creepy. The voices in my head cheered his sensibilities.
I forced myself to ask routine questions-when, where, what would he have to bring.
I wanted to warn Ashana, but I knew she'd never leave her father's side-not now. I was sure she hadn't left the house since she took the poison from me.
And then it came to me: I could go with Renek. I'd go "just in case." Somehow, I'd figure out a way to stop him.
"What if the father wakes?" I asked. "You might need me there."
"He's bedridden!" he chided.
"Well, what if he shouts a warning? Or what if the woman puts up more of a fight than you're anticipating?"
I could tell he thought it strange, my insisting on participating, but I got the impression that perhaps he believed I had a morbid fascination with the idea of seeing him strangle someone. I didn't care what he thought. I had to be there to find a way to stop him.
When we reached home, Renek showed me the dowry. It was an awe-inspiring collection for sure. There was gold aplenty, and more. An entire necklace of dragon scales shimmered in blue and purple hues. There was an arm bracelet, hewn in detail so fine it could only be from a master dwarven crafter. Emeralds glittered from the intricate bevels on its surface. I wondered at the cache. I had heard Ashana's stories of her father's business, but his wife must have come from royalty to stock a dowry chest like that. And the son truly was a drunken fool to part with those riches to gain claim to a business and house that were probably worth less.
Lights were on only in the front of the large manor. We entered in the back where it was dark. The door was unlocked as Menge had said it would be. Renek said Menge had promised to go out for the night and get too drunk to remember anything. I was sure we could trust him at that.
As soon as we got inside I scanned the darkness for a tray of glasses, a suit of armor-anything that would clatter when it fell. I thought perhaps I could startle Ashana so she would cry out and alert neighbors or passersby before we could get near.
The house was silent. I was thinking Ashana might hear us even before we got much closer. Then she started to sing.