Ismarus

Chapter Four

Quietly, Ismarus waited behind an old juniper. It was on the border of the forest and the glade, giving Ismarus a clear view of what lay ahead of him. Being flanked by the other tall trees on three sides, one had to be very cautious in order to notice Ismarus standing at the base of the juniper, with his bow. Getting an arrow from the quiver, very gently he ran his lips along the length of it. This way he could feel, even the slightest deviation on the surface of it. Any deviation would hurl the arrow off course.

Not too long after Calsyto and the jester had trotted away, three riders came out into the opening, riding in the same direction. It was obvious, they were no ordinary travelers. They carried everything an assassin would. Ismarus drew an imaginary line, joining the tip of his arrow with the chosen target ahead. He had to estimate the distance before releasing the arrow. He had picked the assassin at the rear of the group. The distance exceeded fifty yards. At that kind of distance, his experience told him, it would not be right to shoot straight. The arrow had to be given a parabolic flight path. Hence, Ismarus raised the tip of the arrow, perhaps a centimeter or so, before releasing it from the bow. A twang, followed by the hissing noise marked the departure of the arrow.

It took a few moments for the angel of death to find its victim. The two riders ahead of their fallen companion galloped for a while before realizing what had happened. Without wasting time, they rushed towards the shelter of the forest to their left. Ismarus knew, the companions of the fallen assassin would try to track him down. He disembarked, and patted Petar, giving him the signal to roam freely in the forest. The moment Petar had disappeared from sight, Ismarus placed himself behind an ancient oak. He was fairly certain, the remaining two assassins would approach him from the right flank. With him, Ismarus had a number of hunting knives. He took one in his hand, felt the sharpness of the blade with his thumb, before grabbing another from its leather pocket. He held the blade of the second knife with his mouth. He was all too familiar with what was to follow. Only this time, his would be assassins would fill in the space inside the forest, instead of a deer or a warthog. Calmly, Ismarus waited for his prey to appear. His senses sharpened, remaining alert for the slightest noise of the rustle or twigs being stepped over.

Roughly twenty yards from Ismarus, one of the assassins stepped out of the bushes. As the two sets of eyes met, a faint smile adorned the assassin's lips. He had no problem recognizing Ismarus. However, his long face, a shaved head, and a nose drooping like the beak of an eagle, looked unfamiliar. Ismarus did not wait for the smile to disappear. The man was startled by the swiftness of Ismarus' reflex. Perhaps he had expected a confrontation with swords, dropping dead with a knife stabbed in his chest, even before he could blink.

Refraining from retrieving the knife, Ismarus whispered to himself, "One more to go." At any moment, the other assassin could appear. Getting caught unprepared could be fatal. Hence, he stood still, waiting for the other man to show up. And a few feet from his dead companion, the last hired killer came into sight. He had not yet noticed Ismarus waiting for him, so Ismarus whistled to draw his attention. The young man shuddered like a leaf, turning to face his adversary. Ismarus could tell the young, inexperienced man had been breathing heavily. His dirty blonde hair looked terrible. They stood like spikes, and at several spots they had been trimmed clumsily. His long thick nose, protruding prominently in comparison, was the first thing Ismarus noticed about him. Under his robe, he had am impressive physique, at least his fairly muscular limbs and shoulders gave out this impression. He was almost as tall as Ismarus.

"Cowards do that," he remarked at Ismarus upon observing the condition of his dead companion. Ismarus understood what he meant. He put his knife back into it's sheath, and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Are you up to the task you have been assigned to do, young man?" Ismarus asked the young killer confidently.

"Take your sword in your hand. It's time to find out," the young killer replied.