Catch up on the adventures of the young Squire Roche here.
- You wouldn’t see me excited over the prospect of becoming part of the Guild of Assassins. Just because Prince Kholin got himself into trouble doesn’t mean I sho–oh, who am I kidding, if I don’t go along with His Highness, he’ll end up in a ditch!
- There’s a stark difference between your common thug and the members of the Guild. The thug is less prone to stabbing you in the face with a dagger when you bump into him.
If Kholin hadn’t shoved a fist into that assassin’s face, I’d be a dead man. Lesson learned: Never say ‘sorry’ to a killer. They’re really not into that.
- Not crawling back into that dung hole. To be honest, I’m not even sure I could find my way back to the Guild’s den if I tried. The slums, from which Kholin and I only now were led out of, are labyrinthine in the truest sense of the word. Dozens upon dozens of bleak, dust-covered passageways, which can barely be categorized as streets, lay the groundworks for the most miserable place I have ever seen. Dusty, soot-covered and grey-eyed urchin move like tiny apparitions in-between crowds of people who walk as if they’ve planted one foot firmly in the grave.
- No word from Kholin about why we had to go and join the Assassins’ Guild. I haven’t felt so…uncomfortable since Father sent me on my way.
- The Second Prince tends to jump into all sorts of messes before he’s taken the lay of the land. I try and make sure that his back is covered, but him keeping me in the dark half the time doesn’t help. We’ve been together for six months, but it feels like six years. Just thinking about what we’ve done during that time…
- Five months ago: I didn’t think I’d ever be in the position to gamble His Majesty’s signet ring at a game of cards in a seaside tavern. Imagine my horror when the bauble Kholin had thrown my way one hand back turned out to be one of the most precious pieces of jewelry in the kingdom.
- Three months ago: Outside the city, about ten leagues, is an abyss. So of course Kholin insisted that we had to go exploring. Jump forward one lousy, wet expedition later, and we and a pair of royal guards had to bolt as fast as our horses could carry us, chimeras thrice the size of the best-bred mares rushing after us.
- Six weeks ago: After the whole chimera debacle, both of us ended up cleaning the cutlery thanks to old Master Arbrus’ guiding, arthritic hands. The old Master of Ceremonies is like a rotten fruit – he’s only getting more rotten the closer you get to him.
If I never have to polish another silver spoon in my life, it’ll still be far too much.
- Four weeks ago: We spent a month shining, cleaning and spitting spite and vinegar towards old Arbrus every time he turned his back on us.
The King finally shooed the ancient hound away from our scent. Kholin demanded we celebrate by going back to exploring the city from above. I wasn’t about to go jumping up and down ceilings first chance I got…but you can’t exactly say no to a prince, can you?
- That’s how we met The Thief. He was a bulky man in his twenties; not the kind you’d imagine when someone screams ‘Thief!’ I would never have killed him…if he hadn’t tried to steal from Kholin. Turns out, that’s what got us an audience with the Assassins’ Guild Master.
The Thief broke the rules. I killed him. Only members of the Guild can dispense justice like that. Maybe Kholin’s motivation isn’t all that complicated, after all.
Maybe he’s just trying to protect me.
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If you like the adventures of Roche and Kholin, let me know and I’ll write more!