Legend of the Swords

18: Ryan

"That bitch will get hers." My father promised under his breath from his cell beside me. I looked over at him wearily, watching him pace with rage back and forth between the walls in his cell. How he hadn't worn himself out yet was beyond me; it had been three days since we had been exposed as leaders of Devil's Judgement by Varen's new play thing and here we were still waiting for any updates from our people on when they were going to get us out. Father had been pacing almost the entire time, wearing a path along the floor of his cell from his repeated steps. 

"What do you think we should do to her?" I asked him, pondering the thought myself. She wasn't ugly in the slightest and would probably do just fine to satisfy me for a night. Then I could use my sword to cut her tanned skin and expose the crimson beneath. I wondered how she felt inside. Was she warm and soft like other women? Was she even a woman? With her sword skills I could almost envision her as a man. Well now I'm turned off. 

"I could think of plenty of things we could do to that traitor. Who does she think she is, revealing herself like that. Now I know her true identity. What a fool!" My father laughed manically, pulling me out of my own thoughts. 

"What do you mean traitor? She's not one of ours." At least not that I was aware of. 

"She was nobody's, though she typically took more Saint's Domain work than anyone else. She's the assassin everyone referred to as The Banshee. She was very skilled, but her skills are of no use when she's without a weapon." I sat up straight at my father's words, shocked by this revelation. 

The Banshee was the name of the most notorious assassin in the underground realm. She was said to be the bringer of death, completing every job that came to her. If you saw her it was normally an omen of an upcoming death as the result of a contract, hence her name The Banshee. Many men feared her, others revered her works and studied each kill. I had always been fascinated that she had been a woman, given the line of work and how clean her kills had been. It made sense now that Roy had been the one to train her. He had never had an apprentice that didn't come out a successful and skilled sword master. 

I was broken from my thoughts as the sound of crashing came from down the hallway. My father sighed in relief and frustration, going to the door of his cell and looking out. A few moments later a person in a long black cape and metal mask entered the room, looking around. Behind him were four more people, wearing the exact same clothing and masks. "Here." My father growled, demanding the attention of our men. The leader of the party nodded before rushing over to my father's cell and unlocking the door. One of the others unlocked mine and held out a sword for me to take, which I did so gratefully as I stepped out of my cell and joined the group. 

"We must hurry." The leader stated, turning and running back down the hall. My father and I followed, the others escorting us and making sure our backs were covered. Around every corner we were met with resistance from the guards on duty, and backups were quickly replacing them. We were more skilled however, and easily defeated all of our foes before we exited the prison and climbed onto the horses that had been left waiting for us. And like that we were off, disappearing into the night to make plans for our next move. The only thing that would satisfy my need for revenge would be to make that woman wail and give The Banshee name it's proper glory.