Prologue
King Street, the main street that lead through the Black River territory, was bustling with activity. Not unusual for this time of day, just before noon. There were vendors lining the sidewalks, which were not yet crumbling as they were in some other territories.
Men and women clamored and shouted, vying for position in lines. Children ran and yelped, chasing and shoving one another in the boisterous way only children can. Everyone was attempting to be heard over everyone else.
The noise would've been overwhelming to anyone who had never seen a market, but here it was just the familiar backdrop. Summer heat was just starting to grip the town, and though it was not yet unbearable, the humidity and height of the sun had the patrons in a more uptight mood than they would be later in the evening, all rushing to get what they needed so they could retreat to the shade of the their rooms and patios.
It was for this reason perhaps, that hardly a single person took notice of the grubby young boy, slinking his way through the crowd. His bright blue eyes darted around furtively, Nearly hidden by his mop of curly black hair. He wore a long sleeve jacket over his bare chest.
That alone should have raised alarms in the current weather, but that was the way things were these days. In the years following The Fall, a new face never went unnoticed. Not keeping track of strangers could be a deadly mistake, and none of these people had really forgotten that. They had just gotten comfortable. It happened.
Black River was the safest and most prosperous territory anyone had seen grow from the ashes of society, and though there were still so many problems, though starvation and sickness were rampant in neighboring territories, and bandits dotted the countryside; here... here things were okay. Okay enough that the citizens, many of whom still remembered how life was before, found it easy enough to ignore the occasional suspicious character.
That was how this one young boy, who couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen years old, made it past an acre of suspicious street vendors and patrons, six different city guards, one Black River newspaper reporter, and all the way to the front steps of the Black River Inn and Tavern.
According to everything the boy had heard, the Inn was the heart of the territory, where everything had grown from just after The Fall. it was any travelers first stop upon arrival and the territory, and the bustling crowd certainly supported this. It was run by a couple in their early thirties, Bobby and Shelly-Rose Rousten, who were famous for both their hospitality, and their uncanny ability to know everything about every single person and thing happening in the town, and in the wider territory.
They were said to be interesting, and very alluring people. Supposedly, that was why they had been made proprietors of the Inn in the first place. But they were not the ones the boy had come to see.
Ducking into the small alley beside the impressive thirteen story building, the child caught his breath which was beginning to get away from him. He would likely be inside. The man who ran it all. The one who founded not only the Black River Inn, but the entire community.
A community that, in just the nine years since The Fall, had grown the largest sustainable population, the largest trained militia, and the most established trade and commerce routes on the continent. A man who was capable of anything. A giant of a man, who would bleed and draw any amount of blood for the Black River territory.
Sweat trickled down the young boy's spine. It caused his jacket to cling to him, which he couldn't have. If it clung, it would perfectly outline the six inch blade he had strapped to his back, and it wouldn't do to have anyone see that before he had his chance. His one and only chance. He was no fool. Rather he succeeded or not, he would not survive this endeavor. He would take his chance, nonetheless. He had no choice.
Wiping his brow and straightening his spine, the boy steeled his nerves, and prepared to round the corner and enter the tavern. Nerves or no nerves, fear or no fear, he would do what must be done. He was going to kill the most powerful man in, as far as he knew, the entire world; Hyatt Sawyer
YOU ARE READING
Black River Rising
FantasyIn The Fall, the first thing to go completely was the power. The last thing most people heard on their radios, or saw on their TVs, were the reports of a strange and dangerous illness. A flu, with a fever that burned up the senses. That drove people...