Assassin

Change...

The rain is hitting the window in my study, my body shivers with the cold, I have tried the fire but my old age and fragile body protest against the sudden heat. The story I am to write began 46 summers ago and I realise now that it is time for me to write the adventures and tragedies that happened to me all that long ago because I fear I will not live through the coming Winter.

My name is James, I am 62 summers old, i have outlived most of my friends and even my dear wife, who died of the plague, and my daughter who died of the wasting disease when she was barely off her mothers breast. 

I've led an ordinary life, living with my mother and little sister Cassie in a cottage on the outskirts of Yorkshire in the village of Settle.

My father left when I as a young boy. He left while mother was pregnant with Cassie, I remember she was far gone because I think I compared her to a house (in my mind of course) I don't know much about him or why he left, all I can remember is my mother and father always arguing over his work and how she wanted him to stop doing what he did. The day my father left was the first and last time I saw my mother cry and the last time I felt love for that excuse of a man.

I've always looked after my family, I could never leave them, my mother is always nagging me to 'go and live a good life' well I guess this is my life and I have gotten used to it. I can't just leave to have a better life. I guess she just doesn't want me to suffer for my father's actions. Well at least I thought this was going to be my life.

 It began as an ordinary day. The 3rd Wednesday in November. I left the cottage to go hunting for Deer and Rabbits to eat at the feast, to celebrate the coming harvest and bountiful crops (of course we have to be careful because it is the King's land we are hunting on). I left with Steph. We had been friends since we were three. She was the most accurate archer, and most stealthy hunter I knew, She would never tell me where she learnt to kill so silently and quickly, without seeming to put any effort into it at all she would always dismiss it with a 'doesn't matter' or 'keep your nose out of my business'. Steph and I had been given the job of village hunters when we were sixteen. We had been in the forest for less than two hours, we had gathered 3 rabbits and 1 deer, (with no help from me) when we saw the most magnificent Buck, tall with antlers as tall as the nearest tree and golden eyes that shone beautifully in the warm sunlight. We gazed at the magnificent beast for what seemed like the whole of time itself and it stared back, it didn't twitch or move just stood there and watched. I heard a rustle of leaves and dived down to the floor taking Steph with me. The King's archers. We lay there still as possible, when one of the men released an arrow onto the Buck, the poor creature had no chance within a second the magnificent beast slumped to the ground with a dull thud.

I looked at Steph, she was shaking, not with anger but with sorrow, her eyes had turned bloodshot and tears were streaming down her face. Her mouth was held in a tight crease.

I had seen that look before when Erwin (a boy from our village, about 4 summers older than us) had taken away Steph's dagger and was tormenting her and waving it around. I will tell you now I have never seen a girl, no sorry a human punch someone so hard and merciless than Steph did to Erwin.

Steph and I were heading home early to ready the meat when she grabbed my arm and motioned me to be silent, that’s when we heard them, the screams, They were silent at first like a child whimpering but they soon became louder and began to pierce my very soul. We ran through the forest, I stumbled I few times but soon picked myself up and started to run again, we grew closer to the village the screams grew louder and louder that's when I heard the constant roar of the fire. I could smell it, the unmistakeable revolting smell of smouldering wood and burning flesh. We stayed silent for a while staring at the destruction, the massacre happening before us happened so fast, with no time to move or think . The Man, the man with the painted silver daggers on his face and his gang of thieves, murderers and criminals riding on horses or charging on foot, they destroyed our village, sparing no lives just a pure blood-lust running through their veins.