The Sharded Blade | Part 1 (A Dark Fantasy Novella)

Part 16

That night, more than any night before it, was about the pure, raw quest for vengeance.  The shroud the burning desire for retribution cast over me replaced the comfort of my cloak, now buried with my daughter under that tree in the forest, and was the perfect concealment for my singular mission.

Gertrude led the way, blazing a path towards whatever goal was in store for me.  It was so late, even the drunkest of the drunks had gone home to sleep off whatever concoction they had ingested during that evening's indulgences.

Our brisk and purposeful stroll, closer to the dawn of a new day than the sunset of the last one, ended at the stables servicing the northern edge of the city, not even a block from the main gate.  "This the place?" I queried my otherworldly guide.

She squeaked.

"No, it's not that I don't trust you," I said back to her.  Wait, had I just answered the demon rat as though I understood what she said?  Yes, because in reality I had understood her.  Either that, or I had officially gone around the bend in a cart without a horse.

She hissed back.

"OK, OK, I won't question you again," I replied, continuing the conversation I was sure we were having.

That unnerving exchange put behind us, I started casing the joint.  Years ago, I'd rented a horse from here when heading out of town.  So the building wasn't completely foreign to me, but I didn't exactly know it like the back of my hand either.  That whole fiasco still stuck in my mind.  The damn nag keeled over after two days and some nasty disease stemming from a cough I was told not to worry about at the time.  I hadn't purchased the insurance for an extra silver, because I tended to pinch my coppers, and the ill horse had cost me four more gold than when I rented her.  Tonight, I thought, might turn out to be payback time for cheating me.  A bonus.

The place smelled exactly like one might expect a stable should, with the most fragrant of horse shit wafting into my nostrils and for my personal enjoyment.  As I circled around the back, raging snores careened out of an open window on the second story.

Gertrude climbed up onto my shoulder, eagerly pointing upward with her twitching, whiskered nose while on her hind legs.

"Great," I grumbled.  "I wasn't expecting to have to make a climb tonight."  And that's when I remembered the ropes I had salvaged from my daughter's corpse.  Unwinding them from my waist, I set to mentally figuring the height of the window, about fourteen feet off the ground, and the length of rope I had at my disposal.

Once I lashed the pieces together with firm knots and a loop tied in the one end, the total length was only about that much.  Which was fine. It didn't need to reach the ground, only close enough where my hands could grab hold of it.  And I assumed a further portion of its length would be lost once it was fastened to something sturdy inside.

"Think you can get this up to that window and attach it for me?" I asked Gertrude.

She chittered at me.

"Yeah, I know how high it is."

A do-I-have-to-do-everything type growl came next.

"Oh, come on!  I'm not asking for much here, am I?"

Snatching the looped end from me in her jaws, Gertrude gave in to my request, leaped from my shoulder, and dug into the wood siding with her nasty little claws.  Up she went, clickety clacking all the way, her jaunt culminating with her tail disappearing inside and the rope slowly snaking in behind her.  There was a lot of rope, and for a rat, she was pretty strong to lift it.

When it stopped and hung there for a few seconds, the end about five feet from the ground, I decided to give it a test pull.  With a tug, I confirmed it was secure and began my ascent.

Fourteen feet was a piece of cake.  I'd done far longer climbs up sheer faces before.  My longest had been three hundred feet up a cliff to swipe some jewelry in my early days of thievery.

Arriving at the window, I didn't just barrel in.  I took my time and lingered on the ledge, eyeballing my prey in his bed and looking like he'd just flopped into it after a rough night.

He was one of the darker-skinned men described to me by Carli, and Gertrude's bloody red eyes hovered over him while sitting on a post at the bed's foot.  I did so love the easy ones.

Yet, part of me really wanted this sad sack of a human-being to be awake and alert when I did him in.  But this close to the manned guard post at the north gate?  At this time of night?  I'm sure that would draw more attention than the situation warranted.

So, without any further thought, I prepared my dagger, after only briefly pondering my target. Noticing both this man's ears fully intact, I knew the one with half an ear missing was still at large.  Oh well, I'd get on to dealing with him very shortly.

Having finished my examination, my sharded blade plunged straight through his heart from under his sternum, killing him with silent ease, but definitely not without his knowledge.  Eyes blasting opened, there was no scream from my victim.  He managed nothing more than a whimpering and pathetic gasp.  As all life faded away from within him, the next shard released with a click to remain behind and mark another part of my debt as fulfilled.