PAST

Why am I not surprised? He was late. Again. Knowing him, he was probably off in a brothel, with a bottle in one hand and a girl in the other. While he was off having fun, I was sitting here in this rundown, backwater tavern. Who does that?

Him, apparently.

Well, I'll just see how far I'll let him get when he tries to steal the glory from our little caper, now won't I?

Until then, I just sat in my little corner of this watering hole, breathing the tavern stink and watching drunkards wallow in their filth. The contact would be there soon, I was sure. They were never late for things such as this. Indeed, they often had too much to risk by angering someone like me. But until then, I would wait in my little corner with my feet upon the dirty wooden table.

As I predicted, I didn't have long to wait. A skittish boy entered the tavern. It was clear from the look in his eye that he had never entered a tavern, let alone one like this. I don't think he focused long on his surroundings, however, as his gaze soon found me and latched upon me. He traveled the tavern floor, paying no heed to the drunkards brawling or the wenches serving mead. The kid only saw me.

In order to appear the slightest bit more professional and more menacing, I removed my boots from the table. I also gathered my cloak about me, lest I desire the youth to catch a glimpse of my face. I wouldn't want that, now would I? My secret identity would be exposed, not that I necessarily had any other identity than my current one.

Finally, the adolescent reached my table. With big eyes of "horse shit" brown, he peered at me with fear and curiosity.

"You- you're her? The Lady of Ravens?" wondered the boy in a voice reminiscent of a little girl.

"Who else would I be? The Lady of Chickens?" I answered.

"I- I meant no offense, miss," he said with a frown meant to invoke pity in me.

"Don't think yourself important enough to offend me," I snapped, "anyway, do you have the contract?"

The boy shuffled around in his pockets. "Yes, of course, miss. Right here." He held out the papers in one dirty hand.

I snatched them from him without a second thought. "Say, aren't you a bit young to be filling out assassination contracts?" I wondered.

"Y-yes. I suppose, but he killed-" he started.

I cut him off. "Spare me the sob story, kid. Do you at least have the payment ready?"

Once again, the kid rummaged through his pockets, searching for some copper bits.

Why, oh why, did we allow assassinations for so cheap? It just meant that there were more poor buffoons that I had to deal with before I could get to the more important ones.

After collecting what looked like a sufficient amount of copper coins, the child dumped them upon the table. "Here."

"The target will be dead tomorrow morning at the very latest. Pleasure doing business with you," I stated with much boredom.

The adolescent backed away awkwardly from the table as I collected the coppers into a leather coin purse. Best to let my lazy partner take care of counting them, because I wouldn't deign to do it. He could get it done later, while I was pleasantly off completing an assassination and he was watching my back like a good little lookout.

Once all of the coins were safely tucked away in that pouch and stowed on my belt, I rose from my table. Quite confidently, I made my way towards the door, ignoring my surroundings as the boy had. Any drunk who managed to somehow get in my way was shoved out of the way roughly. I'd done this a million times in a million different bars, so it was easy to imagine my surprise when I was snatched up by the arm.

It was drunk who held my arm with an iron grip. There was no way for me to worm my way out of this one, I was forced to face my attacker in a brawl. He was a big one, that was for sure. A burly one with a face of ruddy skin and muscled, hairy arms. This drunk also wore fine clothes. Very fine clothes. Either he was sucking up to somebody high up in the royal family, or he was a royal himself. That ruled out the possibility of killing the fool for touching me, lest I anger someone who could be potentially problematic. But I was still free to kick the shit out of him, and that I did plan to do.

"Watch-hic!... watch who you're stumbling in to, you- you-" Slurred the drunk, his foul breath spewing from his mouth and into my face.

"If you don't let go of me in the next three seconds, you swill belching swine, then you're going to lose that arm." I threatened, one of my hands flying towards my dagger sheaths. Like I previously said, I would not kill him, just hurt him. Quite badly. I did not like to be touched by others at all. Not even people I was "friendly" towards.

"What did you call me, bitch?" Spat the drunk.

"You heard me, you high born inbred," I spat right back.

"Now, now, friends, let's not let this get out of hand," spoke a voice from behind me, "why don't you just let go of her arm, and I'm sure she'll apologize for calling you that."

I glanced behind me quickly. Of course. Of course he would show up then. I hoped he had his fun at the brothel.

"Stay out of it, Zyl," I muttered in his general vicinity.

Unfortunately, it was too late for that, for the drunk had caught sight of my "friend".

"You! Elf! You dare enter the city?" Grumbled the drunk, "I should have you hung for the crimes your people have committed against the kingdom of Westmarche!"

Zyl, ever the pacifist in situations like this, threw his hands up in a gesture of defeat and backed away. "Let's not jump to conclusions, my friend. I am only half an elf."

"So he only deserves half a hanging," I said jestingly. Zyl shot me a dirty look for my excellent choice in time to suddenly sprout a sense of humor.

The drunk looked down at me, "I bet you're an elf too!" He said, reaching down to throw my hood off.

Naturally, I flipped out. Nobody touches my cloak.

Forget my weapons, a kick would do more than enough. That it did. A swift kick aimed at the drunk's groin caused him to lurch forward and completely forget my presence. I was free to go.

A wise woman would've took this chance to escape the tavern without the risk of angering the drunk any more than he already was. Was I a wise woman? Not at this moment, no. Thus I remained to exact further revenge upon the fool who had crossed my path.

The hustle and bustle of the tavern around us slowed to a near halt as I examined my target. He was leaning forward, still in pain from my kick. He wasn't in enough pain, though. For attempting to remove my hood, he deserved to suffer.

Before the idiot could recover, I was upon him, a blurry frenzy of flying fists. I doubt any of my many punches did much damage all on their own to him, but together, they wore at him. Only once did he manage to recover. Then he tried to throw his own punch, to no avail. In the spot where he had aimed at, there was nothing but empty air. I had vanished. Meanwhile, I had slipped under his guard to uppercut him directly in his solar plexus. That knocked the wind out of him and opened up quite a few more vulnerabilities, all of which I struck immediately in a wild flurry. The drunk was knocked down onto the ground.

I think he was unconscious, but I didn't remain long enough to make sure. I was out of there faster than an orphan could steal a coin purse from a noble lady in the upper districts, which is to say extremely fast. I could only assume Zyl followed me, for he appeared behind me as soon as we exited the tavern.

"Couldn't resist starting a fight, now could you?" Zyl wondered as we headed in the direction of the nearest alleyway.

"He grabbed my arm, Zyl, what was I supposed to do?" I replied.

Zyl rolled his eyes at me, "Oh, I don't know, try to resolve the matter peacefully and not overreact."

"But that's no fun," I said with a shrug, "besides, I saved you back there."

He was not amused. "Sure you did. Anyway, did you get the contract?"

"Of course I did, while you were off having fun." I answered as I produced the scroll containing the details of our contract and the coinpurse. I handed them off to Zyl, who examined them carefully.

"Hey, Mel, you didn't happen to read this contract before you accepted it, did you?" He wondered after reading through it.

"No, why?"

"Here, take a look for yourself," he shoved the scroll into my face, "read who it says for the target."

I read it. Then I read it again to make sure I saw it right.

"King Ulrich Honor-Blade II."

Though the half-elf's expression was typically one of contentedness, now it was twisted into one of concern.

"How are we going to pull this off?" He asked. "How are we going to kill the king? Please tell me you've got a plan, Mel."

He was asking me, but he already knew the answer.

"I don't know." 

----

A/N

Ah, yes, another spectacular chapter from the magnificent lionmouse. Go on, praise my writing in the comments. You know you want to.

Speaking of my writing, I've got to fix that fight scene in the future.

For the sake of starting a conversation down in the comments, tell me who your favorite character is so far? Who's you least favorite character? Mel? Zyl? That weird Teneb guy from the last chapter?

I'd tell you mine, but you probably already know.

Up in the multimedia, that's Zyl as drawn by the spectacular NeverCatchMe!