The Touch of Astoroth

Chapter One

"Message! Message!" screamed a voice.

Coyra had rolled out of her hammock into a fighting stance, and reached for the knife strapped to her wrist, before she realized that the voice was coming though the sleeping room window, and another minute before she realized what the voice was saying.

"Message?" asked Fyn groggily, as he pulled himself out of his tangle of blankets. Fyn was many things, but he was also a restless sleeper, and no matter how he strung up his hammock, he always seemed to wake up on the floor. "You don't think the king has another mission, do you? It's only a month since the last one." He stood and tugged Coyra's copper colored braid, and she saw her own excitement mirrored in her friend's dark eyes.

"Only one way to find out, right?" she asked, grinning.

The two rushed to the window, and peered out at the hills around the academy. It was still early morning, and the trees on the slopes glistened in the sunlight, but there was dust in the air, as though someone had recently ridden a pony down the steep ravine into the hidden valley. Coyra exchanged a glance with Fyn, and they turned to leave.

The door burst open, and Lem burst in carrying a sheaf of new arrows, and panting as if he had just been racing. At thirteen, Lemric Sloan was a year younger than the other two, but the three were fast friends. He deposited the arrows under Coyra's hammock; scratched Fyn's ferret, Thornin, behind the ears, and turned to grin at his friends. "Message from the capitol. Mission starts next week, and it's got to be Coyra, it's got to be," he told them all in one breath.

"Wait; hold up," said Fyn, "what's the mission? Who's been bothering the king lately?"

"Some lady," Lem told them, regaining his breath, "apparently she's been in court for a few months now gaining the king's favor. They only just discovered she was a Kermerranian spy, but not before she got some crucial information." He paused to roll his eyes. "Of course, they don't tell us what the 'crucial information' is, but they want the lady dead quickly before she can bring news back to Kermerran. They're bound to pick Coyra, but who will go with her is wide open. They could even pick me," He pulled Coyra's braid as he beckoned them out the door, "Go team orphans! Right?"

Coyra nodded but winced internally; she was glad Lem could make jokes about having no parents, but she wished she didn't have to lie to him, or to anyone, about her heritage. With a scowl, she pushed the thought out of her mind. Let Lem think what he liked, what did it matter, really?

"How did you find out all this?" Fyn was saying, "Surly they haven't announced it yet? We didn't sleep in that late, did we?"

"Oh, no, it hasn't been announced yet," Lem grinned mischievously, "I just overheard the masters talking with the messenger, is all."

"So, you were eavesdropping," said Fyn bluntly.

"Yeah, something like that."

In less than five minutes they reached the stables where a small crowd had assembled, all looking as though they, like Coyra, had woken with a start, expecting an attack, only to find a messenger from the capitol.

The threesome joined the back of the crowd which had formed a semi-circle around a chestnut horse with a green clad rider. Coyra could just make out the emblem on the brooch at the rider's throat: two crossed wheat stems, behind a gnarled and twisted jemmyna tree. The insignia of her home country: Izmeel.

The Rider slipped from her horse, stamping to rid her clothes of dust, and began to proclaim:

"Hear ye! All those at Assassin Academy, after a brief discussion with your most distinguished masters, they have come to a decision of who to send on the mission in a week's time. This mission is to kill the notorious Ronia Fillglade, Kermerranian spy, before she can return to her wretched country with information that could change the entire course of the war. For this mission of missions, we have chosen –"