While I am not a man who is squeamish at the sight of blood, I was glad even the silvery moonlight was covered with the velvet-like darkness one notices deep at night. As I ran down the garbage strewn alley, my hand firmly holding my side as to stop the blood from flowing, my mind replayed the series of events that led me to this disastrous night.
“I don't know. A house is one thing, but breaking into a manor is usually a bit more difficult. They keep dogs the size of me in them usually.” I said as I sent my tankard down, a bit of the still green ale spilling on the split log table. I glanced around to make sure no one was too close to listen into my private conversation. People in my business that get overheard talking shop can end up on the wrong side of the headsman's block.“Listen, it is going to be a quick in and out job. I need you to go in because poison would not do. This man has people eat his food before he does, he is that paranoid,” the unnamed man paused thoughtfully and chuckled, “rightfully so in this case. Anyway, the pay is good. Do the job and I might have more for you.”
Being a man that does not turn down a job, or a pouch full of gilded silver coins in this case, I eventually took the job. One does not just agree to kill a man, one needs to be sure the person doing the hiring is sure the person needs to be killed. I left the tavern after laying a few small bronze coins on the table and waved negligently at the tavern keeper and walked into the cool dusk air. The air had the scent of rain in it and the stones of the road shone with slick water. I passed by merchants hawking their wares to anyone who might be out late and need a little trinket or a small loaf of bread before heading home. I stopped at my own home briefly to get my tools of the trade. A thief and an assassin is nothing if he does not have the tools to do the job correctly. I left my small, but fairly clean, house and made my way casually, as to not raise any suspicions, to the manor house that I was hired to service this evening.
I slowly walked by the outer wall, taking in as much as I could. Solid stone wall, about five feet tall. No spikes, or sharp objects to stop a person if they really wanted in, definitely a shoddy job, but a burglar's delight. The outer wall stood a good fifty yards from the manor, a few ancient and gnarled oak tree's swaying in the soft breeze stood in the park like grounds between wall and house.
Not bad, I thought to myself. I could have used more cover, but we work with what the Lord gives us. As I passed the gate, I took a short look at the manor itself. Lying in splendidly serene settings, the manor was a very ugly building. Very squat and not exactly well constructed. The windows could have used a good cleaning and the large red oak doors showed signs of weather damage. I walked beyond the gate and took a quick look behind me to make sure the street was clear and another furvitive look at the surrounding houses, only to see darkness coming from the darkly stained homes.
I took a leap and grasped the edge of the wall and pulled myself over, landing with the grace of a cat. I took a quick glance to the house and gate to make sure I was not seen then, content I was not seen nor heard, I quickly ran on silent feet, from tree to tree, hiding in the deep shadows of the overhanging limbs. I reached one of the lower floor windows and slowly peeked my head over the windowsill. Empty, very good. I worked the dirty window open, thanking the Lord that, while dirty, the windows were well oiled. I crept into the house and made my way to the main bed chamber.
I entered the bed chamber slowly, turning the brass handle with great care. Old manors like this usually creak and moan under the slightest touch. Another well oiled entrance, my luck was holding true tonight.
Rich tapestries covered the walls, although the moonlight drained the color from them. Ornate furnishings were spread throughout the room. Small tables, a few deeply cushioned chairs and a small cabinet, full of assorted liquors. Now, being a man of work, I have been known to taste a few beverages at the expense of the person whom I just serviced. Unfortunately I did not have time to even approach the bed to do my duty.
Torches and the steely glint of swords came rushing from an anti-chamber towards me. Deftly, I blocked a blade away with my forearm, but took a slice across my side. Grabbing one of the chairs that were in the bed chamber, I flung it towards my assailants and just as quickly snatched my sword from its scabbard. I moved for the door, since jumping out of the window surrounded by men wanting to kill me was out of the question, and escaped out into the hallway. I made my way down the stairs as lights flickered into life all around me. Dashing into the room I entered in, I found two men waiting for me. Sword meeting sword, I fenced my way towards the window, cutting one of the men down in the process. Parrying a strike, I smoothly ran the other through. As I pulled out my short bladed sword, I noticed each of them wore uniforms of the law. Wonderful, I was set up. I thought it was about time to leave this party.
I ran with all my strength across the grounds of the manor, the wound on my side leaving a bright red trail behind me. I leaped over the wall and into an alley, which takes me to now. Now, being set up is not what I call good business. It would be very irresponsible of me to let that happen without any repercussions.
I made my way to my home, twisting this way and that, as to not lead people back to me while I am resting and recovering. As I slowly made my way to my front door, I thought that it may be time for a change of employment. This line of work was getting too dangerous. Maybe a merchant would be nicer, selling my wares out in the fresh air. That thought occupied my mind as I entered my house. That thought was still in my mind as two lawmen, who were waiting for me in the darkness of my living room, subdued me and shackled me. That thought was most definitely with me the next day as I walked to the headsman's block.
“Last words, murderer?” snarled the magistrate.
I looked at him for a moment and laughed, “I should have been a merchant.”
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