The Spy's Lady

Prologue

*I WOULD RECOMMEND READING THE FIRST BOOK IN THE SERIES "The Pirate's Lady" BEFORE YOU READ THIS ONE! IT IS COMPLETE AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT! ~Shreya*

LINK - http://www.wattpad.com/20353591-the-pirate%27s-lady-spies-of-london-1-chapter-1

The Spy's Lady

Prologue

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 Rouen, France, 1807

The city reeked of fear, smoke and decay. The stench made his already abused stomach roil, but he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat to focus on the task at hand. He sensed a general aura of wariness permeating the air as he pursued his quarry along the cobbled alley, his boots making a squelching sound as he ran along the wet path. This totally killed any 'element of surprise' he wanted, thought Conrad bitterly.

But where the hell was James?

He had to focus on the assassin though. His friend would be alright, he was an excellent marksman and was very quick with his fists. Connie already had enough to worry about, without adding his childhood friend to the mix. Le tueur  being on top of his list, his churning stomach-damn the spoilt food that had caused it, followed by the rapidly setting sun, which was not aiding his cause in any way since he was going deeper into the unlit and frankly uninhabited areas of Rouen.

Looking at the silhouette of the man that ran almost twenty paces ahead of him, cackling maniacally, he willed his limbs to move faster, though he wasn't having much luck at it, all the while tracing their path on the map of the city in his head. He was pretty good with directions, and at the rate they were going, they would end up stopping in - three..two..one. They had reached a dead end.

The assassin rounded on Conrad swiftly, and charged. Taken by surprise, Connie landed with a bone-jarring thud as his feet were swept from under him. But his sharply honed reflexes served him well as he quickly scrambled to his feet, only to find that the bastard had caused his pistol to skitter out of reach.

Well, we'd get this done the old fashioned way then, thought Conrad with a sinister smile, as he lunged for the fiend's neck. James ol' buddy, you'll hate missing this one.

The killer or le tueur, as he was called, was waiting eagerly for Connie to charge. He himself preferred hand-to-hand combat, especially with a worthy opponent, though he rarely ever found anyone who fit that profile. But not this young pup. This boy was worthy, he had not given up the quarter-hour long chase along the slippery streets of Rouen even in his weakened state.

The place where they fought, had only one route to escape, the icy river Seine that flowed to his left. And he, one of the most notorious assassins of France, would be a fool to try that. Or just desperate. In any case, he never bet on surviving any encounter because it helped him gloat when he actually did survive, as he had been till now.

Conrad blocked the clever fists of the Frenchman as he maneuvered himself to a better position to attack. Seizing his chance, he landed successive blows to the man's neck and torso, satisfied at the groan that emerged from the older man's lips. He watched his opponent seemingly double over in pain or to catch his breath, but before he could think of his next move, the man before him straightened from his crouch, lithe as a snake, and proceeded to smash a loose cobblestone into Connie's skull.

He only managed to block it partially as it hit, sending him to the ground in a heap of bruised skin and tired bones. Through his blurry vision, he saw the bastard raise the stone again, and tried to find some strength to move, but he was just too damn exhausted. Bracing himself for the impact of the stone, he shut his eyes and sent a quick apology to his parents for not living long enough to carry forward the ducal name. His mother wanted him to settle down for a long time, and he wished to God he could have seen her beautiful face before he met his maker. And his father too-