The wounded Assassin

Chapter 1

Avoiding attention on me, I discreetly made my way home. My long hooded coat kept my face hidden. Who I was hiding from I had no idea. Keeping my head down I walked briskly up the muddy pathway passing small houses, hearing voices of laughter, sadness and anger. Nearing sundown the sky turned cloudy and somehow seemed to echo the misfortunes of the people.

As I passed an alley, muffled screams of a girl was all I heard. I knew what was happening, as did everyone. She was being raped. My inner desire to help her grew but I shut myself down, knowing clearly the consequences that would unfold if I did. Not daring to even look I just walked past the alley, and her screams slowly faded away. "Why was I so weak?" I cursed myself and guilt overtook my heart.

You would expect the officers and the guards of the city to protect the innocent but it was from those devils that the city of Tyre needed protecting.

The sky started to lament, mourning over the injustices the people faced. I too shed a tear. This was wrong. I hugged the materials I had just purchased close to my chest. They provided my daily food to sustain me. I was taught to sew by my aunt. She was the onIy family I had when my parents and my younger brother died 10 years back. My aunt too left me giving me no choice but to take care of myself.

I made my way through the small street and stopped at my doorway. As I opened the door, smells of various dyes from the materials I already had greeted me with open arms. I gently placed my new materials of pastel shades on my dining table. I took off my coat that was dripping with water and placed it on a wooden chair. I dragged the chair and placed it near the fireplace. With the sound of crackling wood I knew that I had successfully lit the fire.

Sitting on the chair to warm myself up, I stared into the the burning embers. My thought drifted back to the girl whose innocence was robbed like it was of no value. So far I had survived. Engraved in my mind were my father's words the night before the ship they were on was captured by pirates "always be discreet and remain chaste until you are safe." At 11 years of age these words were mere nonsense but now it seemed as if the only way I would survive.

The melancholy atmosphere creeped through my skin. The house that was once filled with laughter was now plagued with sobs of misery. I brought my knees up to my chest,buried my face in them and started to cry. I missed them. My mother's happy green eyes and her bubbly face when father tried to sing, when my little brother Alonso only two years younger than me played hide and seek with me. Why did they have to take Alonso to a training camp in France? Was learning to swing a sword worth more than family? My cup was full of sadness and I was too stubborn to let it go.

Sighing to myself I pushed myself out of the chair. The blazing fire sent its warmth and light far out into the living room. Lighting up on candle I took to each room, lighting the long white candles fixed onto the stone walls of the house. With each candle, life seemed to brought to the house. With the rain still battering against the walls I picked up a steel pot....

Bang! Thud! 

My head shot up and I felt my eyes widen. The sound came from my bedroom. My mind battled with just two choices "go or don't go." At times like this is when I wish my brain would give me more choices but sadly the rush of adrenaline always narrowed it down to two. I made my decision, I was going. 

With the steel pot still in my hand, I tip toed to my room. Ha, a man, crouched in two just below my window. He was still peeping out of it. He was unaware of my presence in the room, 'I have every advantage against him now' I thought to myself. Until..

Clank!

.. I most stupidly dropped my pot to the floor. He quickly turned around and his eyes locked into mine. His hazel eyes didn't show any sign of threat but only looks of worry and pain were shot my way. Our gaze was interrupted by the sounds of soldiers, running and screaming "find him! Kill him!" he looked at me with eyes open wide, his fate layed on my hands. My mind was screaming 'You don't know him' and that's when I saw the blood. He was wounded. I had to help him. I quickly ran towards the window, blowing the candle out on my way as I heard the footsteps of the soldiers drawing near. 'Please don.." I interrupted his speaking as I placed my hand over his mouth and knelt beside him.

His warm breath brushed harshly against my hand as he was panting heavily. As the soldiers stomped pass my window one of them growled "I want him dead!" 

Oh dear God what have I got myself into.

Once the noises faded, his panting was the only noise that could be heard. I gently lifted my hand away, quietly stood up and shut the window. I ran to the kitchen and got myself some more candles, setting them down on every possible surface there was. Soon every nook and cranny of darkness in my room was exposed to light, including this strange man.

My intruder looked at me with thankful eyes but as soon as he tried to get up on his on feet he winced in pain. I walked toward him and knelt in front of him to inspect his wounds. His face was wet and dirty and his lip was bruised, his brown hair all ruffled up. I lifted his hand to expose the bleeding wound on his abdomen, it was a deep cut.

"Who are you?" he asked breaking the silence in the room and my concentration.

Wait. How was I going to answer him...

"Um....." I stammered as I had forgotten how to speak.

Should I say my real name? 'Gah, no.. Come up with a fake name stupid' My brain can definitely be rude sometimes.

"Ke...Keira.."  At the sound of my own name, I felt my brain slap itself. I just gave out my real name to a stranger who crashed into my bedroom while being chased by the patrol for God knows what.

"Is she your sister?" he asked squinting his eyes. 

"Sister?!" I nervously looked around to see if anyone else was in the room. When I looked back at him his eyes fluttered as he fell back and passed out.