His Ghostly Assassin

Chapter 1

Taron

Three years later

The village was once again full with life as my men and I walked along the streets of my once struggling home. My father before me had built this home for us many years ago, only to have one of his closest friends betray him to take his life as well as his people away from him. I was only fifteen when I walked into my father's bedroom to see him being slaughtered in front of me.

I barely made it out of the palace alive, dragged away by my father's advisors and told to flee.

After almost ten years I worked hard, finding new allies and people who would stand behind me as I fought back for my homeland. Vicious ruffians that I promised would have a home if they helped me fight who now are settled down and make some of the most beautiful furnishings that the kingdom has ever seen. Mercenaries who were bloodthirsty enough to want to aid in my rebellion, only to become guards or huntsmen that bring game home almost every night to the village while protecting our borders.

The assassins were a surprise I wasn't expecting to encounter, let alone have one of my men coming running up to me and alerting me that three sat in a tea house in the village that we had been on the outskirts of.

One of them had even chosen to retire his blades for a sword and a place within my personal guard.

Said man was currently helping an elderly man and his grandson carry a heavy box to their market stall. The older man patted Ken on his shoulder and thanked him for helping them. All of us laughed when he gave his grandson advice on joining my guards to be as strong as them and not the gangly noodle the boy was.

Ken returned to me and nodded for us to continue on our journey through the streets. Many of the homes had been torn down due to the fire damage, but were re-built with strong trees from the surrounding forests and stone from the mountains just beyond the walls. When a few had come to me asking about the streets being treacherous, they were surprised when my men and I immediately began to rework the layout and re-stone the streets to make them safe again. Afterwords, a few came to me and thanked me for fixing so many things, they felt safe to come to me with problems, rather than fear they would be severely punished like in the past. I had someone to thank for telling me to help them myself rather than leave it to my advisors.

She was right that it would make my people look at me with adoration rather than fear. My hands weren't soft like a lords should be, but calloused and rough from her advice and teachings.

"It's easier to make people fear you, but you get farther having people learn to trust you and know you will be there for them."

That was one of the last things she said to me, before she disappeared and none of us have heard from her since. According to Ken, that was normal for her.

"It was good of you to help them, Ken." I told him as we walked past more stalls as my citizens readied them for the festival tomorrow night.

Ken laughed. "It wasn't a problem and I hope he isn't too hard on the kid. I was that skinny when I was growing up." I gave him a look that made him laugh, I couldn't imagine the large man beside me being anything close to scrawny. "It's true! My mother and sisters used to tease me about how I'd end up wearing a kimono rather than a yukata."

We all laughed as we grew closer to the gates of my palace, while much smaller and less grand than others, it was still home and just like the village had major upgrades built into it.

Barracks for my men and guards, a new training hall for the recruits to train and for my warriors to hone their skills better. A dining hall for all of us, another suggestion from her that, once again, has greatly benefited everyone. I love laughing and hearing the stories of from their day and the tales of their pasts. These rough-edged men became some of my best friends and have really changed many of their views of them, all us humans needed each other.