Lindsay Buroker - Shadows Over Innocence

On the bed, Sespian mumbled something and stirred. Sicarius let out a slow breath and lifted his head. The boy did not open his eyes.

After a moment, Sicarius rose. He sheathed the man’s dagger, found and pocketed a miniature crossbow, and slung the body over his shoulder. He trod across the carpet toward the door and stopped to pick up the tiny quarrel that had started the confrontation. The tip glistened with freshly applied poison. He left the room, shifting the weight of the body so that he could softly close the door.

“Sicarius!” came Hollowcrest’s surprised voice as he rounded the corner. “I came to check on the heir…” He noticed the corpse. “I realized the boy might be a target.”

“Astute,” Sicarius murmured. “Sir.”

Hollowcrest gave him a sharp look, then nodded toward the body. “Get rid of that.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sicarius found the bodies of Sespian’s missing guards stuffed in a nearby room with the assassin’s gear. The man had traveled light: a change of clothes, trail rations, sharpening stone, and a flat wooden box.

Before opening the box, Sicarius brushed sensitive fingers along the surface. He found a slight depression disguised as part of the grain. Pressing it produced a soft click. With wary hands, he opened the box. The tiny dart poised underneath the lid did not shoot out. Mindful of the tip, he removed it and fingered the contents.

Tucked inside lay a book, a pen, a charcoal stick, two brushes, and three tiny jars of paint. When he flipped through the book, he discovered the reason for the other items. The first few pages were filled with notes and detailed maps of the Imperial Barracks, the capital, and the nearby army fort. Perhaps the assassin intended to be paid twice, once by the vengeful Mangdorians and once by someone who craved information on imperial defenses.

Suspecting Hollowcrest would want to know about the work, Sicarius tore out the pages to give to him. Then he considered the box for a moment.

He tucked it under his arm and strode into the hall. For the second time that night, he stopped before Sespian’s door. The guard had not yet been replaced. Sicarius noted the inefficiency and slipped into the room.

Little had changed; the boy lay on his side, fingers curled on the pillow, pale locks caressing his cheek. Sicarius wondered what it would be like to work for Sespian when he became emperor. Would he retain any of his innocence or would Raumesys and Hollowcrest steal it from him?

For Sicarius, duty was all he knew, all he had ever known, and he would not shirk it, but perhaps it was possible to shape the future of it? Or did his reasons for returning have nothing to do with duty at all?

He pushed aside the confusing thoughts and set the box on the bedside table. His lip twitched as an image flickered through his mind, and he hoped Sespian would be wise enough not to apply the paints to the solarium floor, at least not when Raumesys was around.

Sicarius returned to the hall and took up position by the door until the new guard came.