The Last Bounty

Assignment

Marcus

I stumbled as I landed on the small footpath. It wasn't often that I time travelled, not like the young bounty hunters. I liked staying inside the Order. There were no big risks in my job, only mountains of paperwork and the occasional papercut. One would think that being a leader for an organisation for bounty hunters – the King's Keep obviously – would be dangerous but that was not the case for me at least. Sure the guilt of other bounty hunters dying during their missions could've been said to be the con of my job, but ignoring it had become so everyday to me that it came as naturally to me as breathing.

I straightened myself taking a glance at my pocket watch; I was just on time. My footsteps echoed as I moved on the slated stone path winding its way to the small chapel not far ahead of me. It was pretty I had to admit but I did not possess the interest to examine the outside of it further. I hadn't come here to enjoy the view.

I reached the building pushing the heavy wooden gates open and made my way in. I walked down the narrow aisle listening to any sounds that might alert me to another person's presence. None were to be heard. When I stopped, midway to the altar ahead, the only sound to be heard was my own breathing.

Looking around me I saw countless pedestals, marble statues and gargoyles carved out of the same cold marble as the walls surrounding. Insignificant but magnificent nonetheless just like the high decorative pillars supporting nothing right next to me. They would not play around, not when it came to giving a first impression. Choosing to always meet in this place couldn't have been a coincidence. This of course was not my first visit to the ancient chapel. Were it so, I'd be gaping, admiring the atmosphere that the place oozed.

A quarter of an hour later I started to hear distant footsteps echoing from the stairs that lead to the cellar. She was late, but that was most likely by choice rather than dismissal of the time. He could do whatever he wanted as I was not in the station to oppose.

"Here so early?" a cold voice called. All colour was missing from the tone making the voice impossible to identify as male or female. I heard a small creak as the figure, as I could not make out the features in the dark, climbed up to a balcony almost right above me. If the balcony fell, I would not be the one to tell the story.

"Of course. I'd hate to miss this." I laughed nervously as I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I intentionally failed to mention that it was he who was late. That would do me no good. I'd learnt that the hard way. Scratching my ear that still held the permanent marks of that misspeaking I looked up at the figure above. One as always but that was all I could make out. The dim lighting of the church casted no light to the spot in above me almost as if it were planned.

"Marcus, we have a slight problem", the voice exclaimed in an eerily calm voice that held no emotion as if the matter were of no importance. I flinched at the informal name – I was used to the respective and quiet "sir" that my underlings used if they ever needed to speak to me.

Despite my shy demeanour in front of the figure, when in my own time and place, I was a person of power. Under normal circumstances I'd send a person talking to me this way straight in the middle of the French Revolution with no weapon, or to some other time period suitable. I was the leader of the Order of The King's Keep. I was the one with ultimate power there. I was the justice. Or so everyone, including myself at times, thought. But at meetings like this I was downgraded to a mere helper. I was a knight in a game of chess, of which purpose I didn't know. But were it not for her I wouldn't even be that. It was thanks to him that I was placed as a leader of the older order. And so far I had not done wrong in that place. My wits and the figure's rare, yet useful instructions had ensured that.

I waited for the figure to continue:

"It has come to my attention that the heir of your order is unsuitable to the task. Her interests lie elsewhere and that cannot be allowed. "

I felt uncomfortable speaking about my heir. We were not related and I wasn't very old. At last I didn't feel so. Talking about her made me uneasy, as if I could just drop dead any minute.

"Don't you think that should be a matter for later on. I can't possibly think of a reason why this should be urgent", I replied keeping a polite tone.

"Such ignorance! Larissa Jennings has just completed her 100th kill within the Order. One more and she'll be free to do whatever she chooses. And I assure you Marcus; it is not ruling the Order of the King's keep!"

"There's nothing we can do then. We can't exactly force her to stay. There are rules and we can't just break them. We are civilised people, or at least I suppose so Mr. figure in the dark!" I shouted. The words echoed in the forgotten chapel long after they were said.

A deep shaky sigh came from above.

"Do you not realise how much important information could be leaked if she leaves. The normal bounty hunters wouldn't matter as much but she is the heiress. She simply knows too much!"

"Oh. What do you suggest is to be done then?"

"She must be disposed of as quickly as possible. Add her name to the list. Send your best hunters. The other order will most likely do the same when her name appears on the list", she said pausing to think.

"As for Larissa herself, give her mission number 5093."

I shivered as I heard the number but just as I was about to reply I noticed that quiet footsteps were making their way back to the cellar. The meeting was over. My arguments as often was the case, had been left unheard.

I sat on a second row bench. Larissa Jennings and I weren't related or exactly close but we got along. I'd known her since she was little. The talented, young bounty hunter had been one of the prides of the Order. Her skills would be a great loss but she was going to leave anyway. Did it really matter in that case...

Getting my hands on the list wouldn't be difficult. It was the morale of the action that made me shiver. Nobody knew when the list was made. It held thousands of names of people that were to be killed. People who, if left alive for longer, would cause massive harm. The list hadn't been touched in years. Writing Larissa Jennings' name there would be easy due to my station. Too easy perhaps but it wasn't something I wanted to do. I wouldn't be able to consider my preferences. But, disobeying orders from them would not be an option.

Heck. I couldn't even think about the figure without getting distracted with pronouns. I didn't know whether it was the same person every time. I knew no name, no gender, no features. All I knew was that whoever or whatever they were, I was in debt and all the decisions made by them had proved to be for the good. Their identity had bothered me at first but I'd gotten used to not knowing. All I needed was a name to call them by. Finally I had made up my mind. I'd call them "The Mastermind."