Shadow Blades (The Cimmerian Cycle #2)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Cormac's heart fell. He had one week to get into the castle and kill the King. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Cormac knew he had less than a week to live. The information didn't bother him as much as it should have and he was disgusted at himself for being so accepting of his fate. Two months ago he wouldn't have such a problem with the requirement to kill but Kiayani had taken something away from him, and it didn't look like is was coming back.

Once Master Damien finished Cormac found himself heading towards the city in purpose-filled daze. He was shocked to find himself at the top of the stairs, his hands about to grip the ladder. To say he was preoccupied would be an understatement.

His imminent death gnawed away at his insides. He pulled his mask over his face and let his nerves drain away into the cold metal. He had prepared and was ready. With an unneeded flourish he pulled his hood forward. Confidence was growing inside of him. He was an assassin and he was to be feared.

The flagstone moved easily and Cormac climbed out into the moonlight. He replaced the cover with ease and slid into the shadows. His new robes turned black in the darkness.

Convinced he was prepared he climbed onto the nearest roof soundlessly and reviewed his plan. He had a week and he would use that time wisely. One mistake and it would all come crashing down around him.

He checked that his hood was on tight before he took flight soaring across the rooftops. It was such a relief to be outside again. That one trip to the surface had not been enough. He didn't think he could last as long again living underground before going crazy. He needed to see the moon and taste the salty wind on his lips. He lived for this freedom.

Soon enough he was standing before the palace walls. A week ago he would have had difficulty climbing without the aid of another building, now his trained eyes could quickly find a route in the darkness. He scaled it within seconds and was on top of the battlements. He could see a guard with a torch walking towards him. Cormac was certain he hadn't been seen but he needed to get off of the wall. He flung himself over the edge and slid down the wall. He pushed off at the last minute and rolled into some garden.

Damien had shown him a map of the palace grounds. The gardens dominated the front area of the grounds. The palace sat in the middle and the barracks, stable and training grounds were at the back. He had been advised to stay clear of the barracks and he was going to heed those words. He was not a fighter and getting caught by the guards would be fatal.

He glanced up at the sky, there was only a few hours until dawn. That left him only a few hours to infiltrate the palace and find a hiding place. As Damien had never been in the palace he had no hints as to where he could hide. As he walked through the hedges and the neatly trimmed gardens he looked for possible access points. It would be too dangerous to climb any of the towers and it would be impossible to enter through the main doors. The size of the castle amazed him.

He had lived in its shadows his whole life but he had never appreciated its true size. It was a monument to the glory of Dayrius' golden days when the country ruled most of the continent. It was almost as perfect as the day it was built. The stones were coloured a light blue and the roof tiles were a darker shade, a colour closer to that of the ocean.

He slunk around the base of the palace, observing and making notes in his mind. At last he found an open window. After checking around him he slid through the crack and flattened himself against the wall. He was in a corridor near the basement. He suspected that the kitchens would be nearby and he made a mental note to keep away from it. It would have people in it at all hours of the day.