Bearus was still reeling, stumbling back in a blank haze. Panic twisted his face into a horror-stricken mask. He had not expected Shade to move so fast. Nor could any man fathom the full measure of lethal grace and swiftness displayed by their adversary. The assassin wheeled to the side, biting down on the flat ends of his blades, just as the Grull’s ball and chain smashed into the ground.
Shade spun around and took the blades from his teeth. He kicked swiftly at the first attacker. He caught the man in the gut and knocked him back into the line of others. He made quick work of the other frontrunners. He slashed one across the throat. He lodged another dagger in the second man’s chest.
Shade whirled back around. The Grull was right where he expected him. The filthy giant blinked and gaped dumbly around, his thoughts far too slow to comprehend the assassin’s lightning quick movements. Shade found great satisfaction in slaying huge, impressive specimens such as this hulking Grull. He often toyed with them picking apart their big clumsy movements. He taunted, “Right here, big man.”
The Grull’s eyes opened wide in simple rage. He whirled his ball and chain around his head. He swung it downward in a devastating blow.
Shade back-flipped over the six remaining men. He landed squarely behind them, his boots barely crunching in the snow.
The men skirted to a stop. They bumped into one another and pushed the lead man forward. The ball and chain crushed the man’s face. The Grull licked his lips in a bloodthirsty delirium, confident he had heard the satisfying crunch of Shade’s skull. The others shouted frantically for the Grull to stop, but he swung the ball and chain back again crosswise. He sent the next man flying.
Shade ducked swiftly just as Bearus’ axe cut through the air in a wide arc. He felt the swing whiff overhead and slice through a single hair.
“Almost forgot about you, Bearus,” Shade chuckled, slashing the man across the cheek, “just a little kiss on the cheek.”
“Curse you!” Bearus growled and wiped the blood off. He waved his axe in an unbridled rage, grimacing fiercely each time Shade drew another trickle of blood.
The assassin ducked. He nicked the Brigorian over and over again. He might have drawn every last drop of the man’s blood, but the other men charged back into the fray. They boxed the assassin in—the size of the Grull, the unyielding swings of Bearus’ axe and the walls of an alleyway cut off any acrobatic escape.
“Impressive, it only took twelve of you to box me in,” Shade said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “trouble is…that hardly gains you an advantage.”
Shade’s yellow eyes glowered as he sprung into a quickness that chilled Bearus to his soul. He danced around the circle of men, gracefully drawing daggers from his vest and lodging them in his attackers’ flesh. Men cried out in pain, but he no longer permitted them to die so easily. He left blades lodged at the kneecaps and elbow joints, plunged deep into muscle tissue and between the ribs. Yet he left every stab just far enough away to miss the vital organs. He did not wound, so much as slay their pride. And then when the moment was ripe, he drove terror into their hearts like a stake.
Shade disappeared suddenly, cloaked in the shadow arts of his people. The Shadow Magic covered his skin and made him completely invisible to the naked eye.
The men gasped, their faces ghosting white with terror.
“What?!” one man said.
“Where’d he go?” said another.
Bearus cursed, “Why that backstabbing devil!”
Shade sat crouched on a wooden awning, watching…planning. He allowed the men to drink in the full terror of his vanishing act.
The men breathed hot and heavy, their faces cold with fear.
“Lose someone?”
The men’s heads snapped up in the direction where they had heard Shade’s voice, but they were too late. The assassin back-flipped and landed noiselessly behind them. The Grull groaned unexpectedly and fell flat on his face in the gray snow. The men took one look at the single dagger lodged into the back of the Grull’s huge, hulking neck, turned and fled the opposite direction.
But Shade was already there waiting for them. He moved among them, a silent messenger of death. He opened up the throats of two more men.
Bearus and the only other two survivors screamed in horror as they witnessed their companions die at the hands of an unseen killer. They shrieked even louder bloodcurdling screams and ran for their lives. An invisible knife cut one man’s scream short as it sliced cleanly through his windpipe. The other man nearly made it down the alleyway. He hit the ground. A dagger appeared sunken into his back.
Bearus limped down the alley. His hands shook uncontrollably as he tried to stop the bleeding from his many wounds. He was the only man left.
Shade would take his sweet time with this one. He followed the man’s bloody trail in the snow. The assassin no longer bothered to conceal his steps. He wanted Bearus to hear…to hear the footsteps of death coming for him.
The big man gasped pathetically for breath. He looked around eyes wild with panic. Shade watched as the man shambled back toward the main streets seeking help. He allowed him to lurch forward in a fast bleeding hope.
Shade whispered coldly in the man’s ear, “Bearus.”
Bearus jumped and tripped in the wet snow. He rolled pathetically on the ground, wheezing in a mad hysteria. He barely managed to scramble back to his feet.
“Bearus,” Shade whispered again.
The man gasped, choking on his own fear. Tears stung his eyes. He stumbled on unable to speak. He tried to muster words, but he found no strength. He seethed heavily. His breath grew hotter. He finally spit through his teeth, “You coward! You said you wouldn’t use your magic!”
“You didn’t play by the rules either,” Shade replied, “a hidden mob in the alley? Honestly, Bearus.”
“Please.”
“And now you’re begging for your life,” he continued to whisper, “gasping pathetically for breath,” Shade stopped and sniffed the air, “you think I can’t smell that? The reek of your own urine running down you leg and freezing in the winter cold. That’s just sad Bearus….pitiful!”
Bearus’ face reddened in shame. He shut his eyes and stumbled on like a shell-shocked child trudging through a gruesome warzone. He spoke the words of a desperate disillusioned man, “Be gone! Shadowdemon!”
Shade laughed darkly. His cutting laughter bit down deep.
“Please, spare my life. I beg you.” Bearus stumbled back onto the main streets of Jile.
Shade shoved the man to the ground. “No.”
People watched curiously as Bearus, bloody and beaten, stumbled in the slush road. He fell over and over again, as if pushed and then they knew.
Bearus struggled back to his feet, only to be shoved cruelly back to the ground. He tried again, but he ended up facedown, whitewashed in the snow, his face burning red with streaks of blood, sweat and humiliation. Bearus crawled and clawed his way through the gray snow on his hands and knees.
“Help!” he shouted, “Someone help me!” He gasped around in shock as the citizens of Jile coldly ignored him. None dared interfere.
“No one will help you. This may be your country, but this is my town.”
Bearus looked around in wild abandon and caught sight of the guards chatting around the brazier. He crawled towards them, clawing his way through the slush. He waved his arms in desperation.
“Guards!” he screamed, “Guards, help me!”
“They won’t help you either. They’re too well paid,” Shade whispered, the words seeping into the man’s ear and freezing over his heart.
“Come out then!” Bearus demanded bitterly, “Come out here and show your face, you filthy demon!”
“I’m right,” Shade whispered, “here.”
The legendary assassin’s face materialized before the man’s eyes. His yellow eyes burned devilishly in the night. A wicked grin spread across his dark lips. He grabbed Bearus firmly by the jaw. He squeezed tightly as the man struggled. He brought his dagger to Bearus’ mouth, to the man’s wiggling tongue. The citizens of Jile went about their late night pleasures as a member of their own race screamed until he could scream no more…