(All references to King lord prince are that of the Domin family of aristocrats and are not to be confused with actual kings ect...Also all places are within the Domin family grounds in Lomedor and or the Sanctuary of Angels just different names.)


Word spread like wild fire, Zakarias Domin the VII has arrived in Lomedor. A month earlier King Willium had received a message from the Celestial Angel declaring that he would be paying a state visit to King Willium had summoned his highest advisor, Kolad, and gave the instructions to hire the best bards, musicians, more servants, and craftsmen. King Willium thought it extremely important that the entire city was presentable for the angel (with the exception of the East Gate district which was slums), despite how much it cost the treasury.

Metal smiths, armourers and swordsmiths were immediately employed to manufacture ornamental armour for several legions of knights. This was the largest toll on the treasury, but King Willium insisted upon it. He also insisted on platinum armour which made it cost it even more since platinum was the most valued metal.

Now as Willium looked proudly at the rows of knights lining the parapets of the city, all shining of silver and gold trimming. The brilliance cast off them seemed to dare the sun to try and outshine them. King Willium and his royal guards however wore complete platinum armour, no one outshone them, except one. The exception was King Redhawk, a Kinian Knight who had taken residence in Lomedor with his friend, the famous royal assassin Wynic Doxon.
The King could not keep his mind off Redhawk's armour, it wasn't ornamental, but to Willium's eyes it still seemed to shine brighter than even his own.
"Where's his friend?" thought Willium.

Wynic Doxon was a strange person, despite the common myth about assassins, Wynic was the opposite. Assassins, according to myth were supposed to be cowards, not that skilled in fighting, and of course evil and untrustworthy. Wynic was so skilled in battle that it had been rumoured no one could beat him in hand to hand combat. He was courageous and daring, that much was certain considering the bard stories about him. He seemed to be the perfect hero, (little boys dreamt of meeting him), however it was also rumoured that he had violent outbursts when someone mentions his father.

Scratching his chin, Willium wondered how a rumour like that started about a famous hero, unless it was true.
Trumpets blared, signaling the opening of the city gates, and the knights raised their arms in salute. Willium winced at the harsh sound of the trumpets, but quickly regained his posture.
The angel's carriage drawn by sixteen magnificient white horses rumbled closer to the huge gates. Celestials notoriously distrusted horses, but the angel had apparently brushed away this prejudice in order to look more regal to the human nobles.
From every tower, rampant and parapet a cheer from the nobles, and courtiers, as they waved, and tried to impress the angel. There was a commotion on one of the lower parapets as Wynic Doxon pushed forward to stand beside Redhawk.
Willium couldn't help but grin at the fact that Wynic had recently been in a fight. His silk shirt was torn, and he had a black left eye.

"Where have you been Wynic?" whispered Redhawk, keeping his eyes on the Emperor's carriage which had closed the gap between it and the gate to a hundred yards.
"I had the misfortune of running into a very beautiful female archeress," answered Wynic. "I accidentally startled her, and she was quick to retaliate. She realized I had been just helping her, so she asked me to meet her at the Drunken Dragon Tavern at the second dog."
Redhawk shook his head and glanced at Wynic. Wynic was just over six feet tall, broad shouldered and stealthily built. He had strong cheekbones, an overly large nose, and dark brown eyes. He had short red hair, which he usually kept combed back, but was now slightly disheveled.

The two stopped, and watched the progression of the Emperor's entourage. He had come with an escort of ten fully armed celestials; they marched in five columns of two each. Redhawk marveled at the potential strength of ten celestials in their prime, such a small army could attack and ravage a small castle in a single day. And this was but a small sample of the entire Celestial Army.
The Emperor's escort would camp outside the city tonight, since all the inns and taverns were full due to the festivities. Normally an army would stay in the soldier's barracks but they had been drafted into inns because of the shortage of them.

"Let's go down to the street, and get a good seat for the parade," suggested Wynic. He gestured towards the crowd.
Redhawk glanced back at the carriage rumbling between the gates, and nodded to his dubious friend.
The two warriors pushed their way through the crowd towards the stairs. They climbed down the first flight of stairs, and Redhawk started down the second flight of stairs.
Wynic leapt from the stairs landing, and landed lightly on all fours on the roof of a nearby building. "Come on. What are you waiting for?" he called.
Redhawk took a step back from the landing and leapt. He landed somewhat off balance, waving his arms until he managed to stay up right.
Wynic grinned and shook his head.
The two made it from roof to roof to South Street, the street where the angel would pass through with his carriage and the parade would go by in a few minutes.
The streets had already started to crowd with people looking for places to watch the parade.

Sitting with their legs dangling over the edge of the roof, the two warriors watched the Emperor's progress through the streets. The usual bands and circus entertainers were around a corner near the gates waiting for the angel and his body guards to pass by.
Banners and streamers had been tied from building to building across the street, Redhawk noted and looked down. Teeth chattering, he slowly crawled back from the edge.
Wynic looked down and back at Redhawk. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a thirtyfive-forty foot drop?"
"Laugh if you will, but I once saw a man fall off the roof of a tower and smash his head on a rock. Let's just say I don't want to look like something more resembling a rotten apple. I had never seen more blood at one time than I did then," shuddered Redhawk, moving back another foot from the edge.
"I thought a trained knight wouldn't be afraid of a bunch of blood?" teased Wynic.
"That's different!" mumbled Redhawk shamefacedly.
Wynic decided to change the subject. "Look there's Zakarias!" he pointed.
The great Celestial had climbed out of the carriage, and stood with his son, Zakarias the IX the future Angel, waving his great trident above his head, on top of the carriage.

The angel was almost eight feet tall with huge arms and legs, looking like he could crush a wagon without trying. He wore a silvery surplice and a platinum breastplate strapped across his broad chest.
His son, Zakarias the IX was about a foot shorter, but had a matching muscular build. Indeed he looked like a younger version of his father. He wore a matching robe and breastplate, and carried an identical trident. He however also wore a huge broadsword lashed across his back. Redhawk noted all this from his seat ten feet back from the edge.
Wynic looked across the street at a figure walKing across the roof of an inn.
"Redhawk," said Wynic.
"What?"
"What's the figure over there carrying?" pointed Wynic.
Redhawk raised his hand so the sun wasn't in his eyes. "I can't tell, he's standing the wrong way, wait...it's a crossbow!"
"I figured. What kind?" asked Wynic, rising to his feet.
"Colnic, poison tipped," muttered Redhawk also rising to his feet.
The figure raised the crossbow, and turned to face the angel.
"Zakarias look out!" Wynic cried, testing the strength of a banner.
Zakarias and his son didn't need to be told twice. They didn't even look at Wynic, but leaped from the carriage into the crowd.
The figure had been caught off guard by Wynic's shout, and pulled the trigger on the crossbow. The crossbow bolt whizzed by where Zakarias's son had been, and broke the glass window of the store below Redhawk.
The knight watched as Wynic started to carry himself across the banner. The banner was swinging wildly as the assassin dangling from it continued to pull himself across.
Wynic was half way across the banner before the figure realized it was in immediate danger. He quickly pulled out a knife, and began sawing through the rope that was holding the banner.
Redhawk finally got out of his dazed state, and started trying to find a safe way to help Wynic. Tying some left over rope from the banners around a chimney, he closed his eyes and climbed hand over hand down the rope. He crawled through the broken window, and into the store. An archery store.

"I need more time," thought Wynic, grabbing a dagger from his sleeve. In one fluid motion, he threw the blade end over end, stabbing the man in the right shoulder. The man gasped in pain, stepped back from the banner, and dropped his knife.
Swinging his legs up, Wynic crawled onto the roof.
Wynic's opponent had drawn a shortsword, and was standing over Wynic's exposed back.

Redhawk notched an arrow to a finely crafted bow and pulled back on the bow string. It had been several years since he had last used a bow. He saw the man standing over Wynic, and quickly let go of the bowstring, shooting the arrow.
He swore viciously as the arrow flew harmlessly by the man's head.

Wynic leapt to his feet, as the arrow flew by his opponent's head, distracting him and buying Wynic some valuable time.
Drawing his shortsword, he deflected a stab with his boot. He stepped into the man's swing, his sword leading to the man's heart. A short stab and it was over.
The street was deathly quiet.
Zakarias, and his son emerged from the crowd, and climbed onto the top of their carriage. "Great warrior," yelled Zakarias in his great baritone voice. "May I ask that you, and your comrade join me for the remainder of this parade as a show of gratitude for saving my son's life?"
"Emperor," shouted Wynic, struggling to achieve some form of flowery speech. "Myself, and my comrade would be more than overjoyed to join you!" he yelled back, in as formal a tone as he could muster. Climbing over the side of the roof, the assassin climbed down with all the skill of a Kinian mountain climber.
For once a path cleared through the crowd so Redhawk and Wynic didn't have to push their way to the carriage. Using a window as a step, the assassin scaled up to join Redhawk and the Emperor.
The Emperor shouted to the driver, and with a jolt that left Wynic's stomach churning, the parade resumed with renewed vigor. The incident all but forgotten.
"Warrior, you fight with the skill and ease of a great knight that my son speaks of, but you're obviously not a knight or even a soldier of some form either because of your lack of armour!" said Zakarias the VII. "May I ask your profession?"
"I kill people," Wynic genuflected with a flourish.
"A mercenary? questioned Zakarias's son.
"Assassin," Redhawk corrected, bowing.
"What?" Zakarias cried, somewhat startled.
"May I ask how an assassin, and a knight became comrades and friends. It seems unlikely to have such a fighting pair?" asked Zakarias's son not showing a hint of surprise, but rather a knowing smile.
"Emperor Zakarias, may I have the honour of introducing my friend, Wynic Doxon, the only assassin to become a hero," said Redhawk. He eyed the Celestial Prince, finding it interesting that someone from the Celestial capitol of Evicoth far to the east would have heard of Wynic Doxon.
"You're Wynic Doxon!" Zakarias the IX only half exclaimed. "I've heard stories of you far away in Evicoth!"
"Indeed, Wynic, we have heard great tales about you! My son has developed a passion for finding tales about you, and has been looking forward to this day so that he may meet you!" Zakarias grinned. His son blushed, a strange expression for a celestial.
"I do believe I see the palace ahead," noted the Emperor.

"King Willium, and I must discuss trade routes between and the Celestial Empire, Wynic," said Zakarias, excusing himself from the parlour. "Perhaps, you would enjoy a game of droughts with my son?"
"I'd be happy to miking," replied Wynic, glancing at Redhawk.
"Good. I'll be in King Willium's study," said the Emperor, closing the parlour doors behind him.
Redhawk turned to King Willium's ancient retainer, Gith. "Do you know where we could acquire a game board?"
"Yes, sire. Is there anything else you would desire?" asked Gith. He glanced around at Prince Zakarias and Wynic.
Redhawk scratched his chin, and tugged on a mustache. "How about a bottle of Kinian Red, if you got any?"
"Of course sire. We'll never run out of that. His majesty is quite fond of that, especially the brandy," chuckled Gith, opening the doors and silently closing them behind him.

"Could you tell me the story of how you killed King Hitlot of Jason?" Prince Zakarias asked. "There are many versions, and I'd like to hear the true story!"
Wynic was quite flattered. "Well, you see I didn't kill him, King Redhawk did!"
Zakarias stared at Redhawk. "How?"
"Well, um, you see Hitlot wasn't very good at swordsmanship, that's what his renegade knights were for! His talents lied in the field of strategy. His plan for the siege of Egorth an island uncharted of the coast of Loemdor was quite extensive, and more advanced. The Field Marshals and generals of the western Kingdoms never could have dreamed up some of the strategies he had planned. A prime example is his never-ending cavalry charge he had planned for Death Canyon," explained Wynic, starting to warm to the subject.
"A never ending cavalry charge? That's impossible!" exclaimed Zakarias.


"You're forgetting it's inside the canyon which will prevent attacks from the flanks. It was quite a shame he was corrupt, he was the greatest military mind ever, just think of the lives we could have saved if he hadn't been power hungry. I believe King Willium has copies of the plans Hitlot made in his study," explained Redhawk.
Gith returned with the game board, and a bottle of Kinian Red. Redhawk eyed the bottle greedily.
"How did you kill him?" asked Zakarias.
"He tripped on a rug, and impaled himself on my sword," shrugged Redhawk, filling his goblet with wine.
Wynic shook his head and grinned. "You drink that stuff like water. You're going to drink yourself to death some day!"
"Nah, I'll probably get killed in a fight, so spare me will you?" laughed Redhawk. He downed the goblet's contents in one long pull.
"Your move," said Zakarias.
Wynic studied the board for a second, and then moved a piece into the center squarest.

"How did you get to Hitlot anyway? Wasn't he in a huge citadel?" asked Zakarias, moving a piece to oppose Wynic's.
"Redhawk led a band of Sternum knights to a cave that connected with the citadel's basement. We stumbled around in some secret passageway for about four days until we found a stairway that led to Hit lot’s study. It took us another six days to get out of the blasted citadel, that's how lost we were!" replied Wynic, taking the opposing piece. "We never would have gotten out of the stupid passageway if I hadn't been raised in such a castle, and knew how they were designed," said Redhawk, pouring himself his third goblet full.

"Your turn," said Zakarias.
"Yes," said Wynic, moving a piece to oppose one of Zakarias's. "Well, a drunk man must have designed that citadel, so logically a drunk man could get us out!"
"You were the one leading!" accused Redhawk.
"Your turn," said Zakarias.
"Only after you fell down a flight of stairs, broke your leg, and we had to carry you," replied Wynic, taking another of Zakarias's pieces. "Then one of the Sternum knights gave you some Kinian Brandy to 'ease the pain'. So following that drunken logic, we listened to you, drunk and barely coherent, we some how got out of that damn citadel," said Wynic, pouring himself a goblet of wine.
"King me," said Zakarias.
"What?" cried Redhawk, snorting wine and staring at the board? Zakarias had captured four of Wynic's pieces, and as soon as he was kinked, he could finish his move by capturing another three. "Where did you learn to play like that? Did Hitlot teach you?" he cried, standing up to get a better view of the board.

"My tutor back in the University of Evicoth taught me. I led Wynic right into a trap, more of an ambush really," explained Zakarias proudly.
"Your tutor must be damn smart," exclaimed Redhawk.
"Not really, but then again, we celestials are a superior race," said Zakarias.
"Says who?" spoke up Gith.
"Celestials may lack a bit in cunning, skill and speed, but we more than make up for it with knowledge and strength," boasted the Prince.
"Have you heard of the tale of Sir Alart and King Watene?" asked Gith.


"Yes," replied Zakarias. "I have a degree in folk lore-"
"Then you know that skill is far more important, but a blend of all is even more important, because without one the rest stagnate," explained Gith.
"Hitlot was one of the highest trained warriors with a background in the slums of Egorth, he was also very strong, but he was clumsy and lacked skill," added Redhawk, crossing his arms.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen. Who cares who's superior? The Sternum Knights far outrank both northern knights and celestials," cried Wynic, interposing his body between Redhawk and the towering Prince.
"You're right, as usual Wynic. One Sternum knight could take on ten northern knights with his sword arm tied behind his back, and still win," agreed Redhawk, sitting down, and pouring another goblet of wine.
Zakarias snorted furiously, and sat down. "Sternums are barbarians."
"Tell that to King Blackaxe, he'll be at the banquet tonight. Which reminds me, I really must check on the cook and make sure everything is going as planned," said Gith, and quietly excused himself.
"How did you kill King Apen?" asked Zakarias, changing the subject.

"Interesting," noted Wynic.
"What?" asked Redhawk.
"We were invited to this banquet by King Willium, and invited again by Emperor Zakarias, does that mean we have two seats each?" Wynic wondered aloud.
"Don't be ridiculous Wynic! Although the prospect of drinking two goblets at the same time does sound interesting!" said Redhawk, looking around the banquet hall and waving at Sir Dillard, a fellow knight. Large elaborate chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The room was circular, and had a mural depicting a herd of beautiful unicorns in a meadow. Stepping into the room, the two warriors felt as if they had just stepped through a portal and into a grassy meadow.
There was a huge rectangle table running the length of the room with two crescent moon-shaped tables on both sides of the main table.
So far present for the feast was King Willium, the Queen and their daughter. Chancellor Adams was discussing military matters with King Blackaxe of Sternum. Wynic wondered briefly if the topic of Redhawk's earlier argument with Prince Zakarias would be brought up. King Magter and Lady Stephanie, two of the few nobles Wynic recognized from previous banquets, were in their usual seats, arguing as usual. Lady Bardelias was flirting with a group of young (too young) male courtiers. The men practically swooned when she talked to them directly.
"Some things never change, ever notice that Redhawk? King Magter and Lady Stephanie are prime examples, they've been arguing with each other as long as I can remember," Wynic said, shaking his head.
"I think they like arguing with each other," noted Redhawk, sitting down next to a wine bottle. "I wonder if they keep score of who wins the argument each time."
Gith looked around, seeing that people especially Willium were getting restless to eat decided to proceed with the meal. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe everyone is here, so if you will take your seats, we shall start the meal," he said loudly. Like a herd of buffalo the halls occupants clumped noisily across the marble floor and sat down heavily in their seats.
Wynic sat down in his seat across from Lady Bardelias trying to ignore her perfume. No wonder the men nearly swooned, he grimaced as he spread a napkin on his lap.

"King Redhawk," said King Willium loudly. "I've noticed how fond you are of the wine goblet, so perhaps you could give us a opening toast."
Everyone stood back up as Redhawk cleared his throat. "Ah, a toast to their divine majesties, King Willium and Mighty Emperor Zakarias, and to the Emperor's mighty son, who shows promise of a great leader of the Celestial Empire. Here's to them," he said, raising his goblet in salute and downing the contents in one gulp.
There was the usual following toasts drawing everyone's attention from one end of the room to the other. "A toast to Wynic Doxon," said the Emperor. "For his bravery in the incident today. I am forever in yours and King Redhawk's debt."
"Here, here," shouted King Blackaxe, raising his goblet in a toast. Prince Zakarias glared at Blackaxe.
"And to all those here," said Wynic deviously. "Like Lady Bardelias, Lady Stephanie, and King Magter, who have continued their traditions for perhaps the last ten years of banquets. Here's to their next ten years!"
King Willium snorted wine out his nose and others laughed. The joke was lost on the celestials present and the offended nobles just turned an angry shade of red and pretended not to hear the joke.
Wynic sat down as the food started being served and started to eat with relish, ignoring the rebukes of Lady Bardelias across from him. Lady Bardelias looked thoughtful, seeing that her rebukes had no effect. She prided herself on knowing all the gossip and certainly knew of the rumour of Wynic's outbursts concerning his father. "You have quite an appetite Wynic. I've heard your father did too so it must run in the family," she stated.
A low rumble sounding like a cat growling came from the assassin's chest, as he set his fork down. Redhawk recognized the sound as Wynic's battle cry. If it got any louder it would be like a Kinian lion roaring, which meant Wynic would lose his volatile temper and more than likely kill Bardelias.
Redhawk saw Bardelias open her mouth to add something. "Wynic, you shouldn't keep your Lady Friend waiting," suggested Redhawk. "What's the point of staying here and talKing to scum like Bardelias." He ignored the glare from the Lady.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Wynic, standing up abruptly. "I'm terribly sorry, but I can't stay and keep you company. I have a pressing engagement elsewhere, and I do not wish to make them wait for me." With that, Wynic turned and walked from the room.
Slumping against the wall in the hallway, Wynic whispered to himself. "Damn you Lady Bardelias." He began to weep.

"Gith," whispered Redhawk.
"Yes sire?" asked Gith, leaning over to talk with King Redhawk.
"Do you like Wynic?"
"Yes sire. Like a father loves a son. I'm quite proud of him."
"Do you like Lady Bardelias?"
"No sire, I can't say that I do. She's arrogant and I absolutely hate arrogant people," answered Gith.
"Is she staying at the palace tonight?"
Yes sire. It takes a day to go from Castle Bardelias to Lomedor and she certainly wouldn't stay in an inn. Heavens to Betsy, why would she do that?"
Redhawk grinned. "She greatly insulted Wynic, that's the real reason he left. He has a good hour before that 'pressing engagement'. Could you do something to get back at her for him?" he whispered, eyeing Bardelias to make sure she couldn't hear. "Something childish that she couldn't blame on us."
"The King's daughter found a snake in the palace gardens yesterday. I could put it in Lady Bardelias' bed, no one would suspect me of putting it there," chuckled Gith.
"You're a nasty ol' man Gith," commented Redhawk, biting his tongue to keep from laughing.


"If I didn't know better," said Victoria to Wynic. "I'd say you've crying, which is unusual for a man I gave a black eye to this morning and barely blinked." Victoria was a little less than six feet tall, brown hair, dark brown eyes and rose coloured lips. She was thin and sinewy due to a life of hardship, but had a healthy tan. Her hair was cut short so it wouldn't get in the way when she was fighting. She was wearing a gray fur cloak, brown vest, green skirt and shiny black leather army riding boots. If she had been on duty she would have been wearing a purple tunic and a yellow kilt. Her shortsword was buckled on her belt, and her bow and quiver lay on the seat beside her in the booth.
The Drunken Dragon Tavern was run by a short fat man called Billip. Despite the tavern's exterior look, inside it was warm, cozy, and clean. Clean was something most other taverns and inns couldn't say. The ceiling, floor, walls, tables, booths, and bar was all made of polished Arthian Oak. The chairs, however were made of inexpensive Arthian Maple, because they usually get broken one way or another in a brawl. This way Billip didn't have to fork out the gold to everytime someone breaks a chair.
The tavern had a homely smell of fried potatoes, bacon, and venison sausages. Billip brewed his own ale, but sent away for Kinian wine due to his own fondness of the famous drink.
"You're right. I have been crying," Wynic admitted, sitting down across from her.
"Why?" she asked, intrigued.
"My father was a cutthroat of some small reknown in Avolic, he taught me most of what I know," said Wynic bitterly.
"Did you like him?" she asked cautiously.
"Yes, I loved him. And hated him. I-" he shuddered. Wynic took a deep breath. "I killed him. Everytime I say that it gets easier," he sighed.
"Why?"
"Do you want the long version or the short one?"
"Whichever you prefer."
"My father convinced my mother to run away with him promising to marry her once he was rich and powerful, which he promised her would be soon. It never happened. My mother became pregnant and my father left for the Kinian mountains without telling her. I was born in a covenant where I lived for about a year. My mother died and the sisters raised me until my father came for me when I was five. I later learned that he had killed several of the sisters because they refused to let him take me. He began teaching me the trade and continued to until he started to drink more excessively. Soon he-" Wynic sat for a moment quietly. "He started to beat me. If I made a mistake he'd beat me. If I was caught stealing, he'd rescue me and later beat me. If I disobeyed him he'd beat me. Always later he'd tell me it was for my own good and that I deserved it. He said it'd make me better, like a smith pounding away at a sword until it's razor sharp. He was right, I suppose, I'm now the best assassin in the world and possibly one of the best fighters, having been taught by my father and by King Redhawk. He wasn't always bad, he started taking me with him when I was twelve, we'd get drunk together like drinking buddies, we'd go out, play immature pranks on guards. Then one day an another boy came along and accused my father of ditching his mother. It occurred to me that my mother wasn't the first of the young maidens to be led astray by my father with promises of marriage. I asked him if it was true, and he lost his temper and killed the boy. He later almost beat me to death. He told me not to speak unless spoken to." By now Wynic looked like he was about to burst into tears.
"Here, drink this, you'll feel better," said Victoria, handing Wynic a mug of mulled Kinian wine.
Wynic took a sip, and his voice noticeably steadied. "I've tried to forget about him, but whenever someone mentions him I lose my temper, and all those damn memories come back, threatening to drive me insane."
"Let's go," said Victoria, grabbing her bow and quiver, and slinging them over her shoulder.
Billip waddled over to the archeress and she handed him several silver coins. He took them happily, noticing a tip. "Come back again," he called.
"Where to?" asked Wynic, stepping into the street.
"There's a park at the end of the street, we could talk there," suggested Victoria, giving Wynic her arm.
"That's beside my estate," noted Wynic, taking her arm in his.
"How did you get the estate?" Victoria asked, leaning on his shoulder.
"I bought it from the government when the King living there died. I got it for a deal, since I worked for King Willium occasionally. It's becoming more often that I have to put down an uprising or slay an ambitious King. People are getting far too power hungry." HE glanced at her.
"Back to our original topic. Why were you crying?" asked Victoria, looking up at Wynic.
"I was at the banquet celebrating Emperor Zakarias's arrival here today," sighed Wynic.
"I heard about how you saved his life," she said.
Wynic nodded. "I was eating and this arrogant mullet said I was like my father. I might have killed the mullet, but Redhawk reminded me about you, so I left after excusing myself," explained Wynic bitterly. "Okay, I told you about me. Now how about you?" asked Wynic, forcing a smile.
"What do you want to know?" asked Victoria, sitting down on the wooden bench under a huge Arthian maple.
"I don't know. Why did you become a soldier?" asked Wynic, looking around the park. The sun was stooping below the horizon, giving everytime a reddish tinge. The park was filled with Sweet Williums, Crimson Cascades, lilies and every now and then a rose bush trimmed to represent a hero from a old myth.
"It's better than becoming some merchant or farmer's wife. I dread boredom." Victoria sighed. "I found that people respect those of authority so I went for it. I later found that I enjoyed the excitement of a fight.
"Oh?" asked Wynic, putting an arm around her and holding her close. She smelled faintly of appleblossoms.
"Respect," growled Victoria, so suddenly she startled the assassin. "I'm presently hired by the Arthian army as an archer and lieutenant. People respect guards, probably because of the uniform and what it stands for. Some people disagree that women should become even mercenaries, but my captain says that as longs as a person is worthy of being a mercenary, then he doesn't see what the problem is!" sighed Victoria and leaned her head on Wynic's shoulder.
Wynic's senses were more attuned to the dark and Redhawk had once joked that he'd make a good owl. His eyes noticed something dark against shadow, quickly looked closer, his senses becoming alert. Silently, he tapped Victoria on the arm.
"What she murmured quietly.
"Don't get alarmed, but we're being watched," he whispered, so quietly she could barely hear him. Wynic felt her muscles tense. "Don't tighten your muscles, relax," he whispered. Victoria silently following his words, and relaxed so much he wondered if she was asleep.
A high chirping sound came from a tree nearby, which Wynic recognized as a signal, he counted to ten in his head, and slowly tensed his muscles. When he reached ten there was a rush of movement. Wynic and Victoria jumped to their feet and drew their weapons.
They were surrounded by five dark clothed men, but Wynic knew there was two or three more lurking in the bushes at least. "You obviously don't know who you're dealing with!" said Wynic so calmly that it startled Victoria and unnerved the cutthroats. Rogues, Wynic noted mentally. The crime underworld was ruled, governed and disciplined by crime Kings. They laid out laws for members and the penalty for not following the laws was death. One of the laws was no killing in public areas for complicated reasons only a politician could understand.
"Throw down your weapons, and we'll consider letting ye go!" sneered the leader, a huge man about Wynic's height.
Amateurs! Wynic should have been dead by now if they'd been professionals! "Do you know King Redhawk?" asked Wynic teasingly.
"No! Now do as yer told!" threatened the leader, waving his sword. Southern accent, Wynic noted.
"He's a friend of mine. I'm sure he'd be displeased if he found out what you're doing," said the assassin, maneuvering so he could see all of his opponents with the exception of one which only Victoria could see but Wynic knew he was there.
"Yea, right, and I'm Wynic Doxon," snorted the leader. His companions jeered and laughed.
"I find that hard to believe," said Wynic.
"And why's that?" replied the leader.
"First of all, you're way too ugly to be Wynic Doxon, and secondly, I happen to be Wynic Doxon. I live in that estate right over there," Wynic pointed at the walled mansion.
"Kill the damn liar!" swore the leader fiercely, raising his sword.
Steel flashed, and a Sternum Star shot from Victoria's hand, stabbing smoothly into the leader's throat. He sank to his knees, clutching at his throat. A gurgle wheezed past his lips.
Wynic cut circles in the air in front of his opponent's face, catching him off guard, so Victoria could stab him in the chest. Another two were dead by the time the two lurking behind a bush rushed in to help. Wynic became hard pressed with one man attacking him high, another attacking him low.
Dodging between the blades, Wynic waited until they had turned halfway so they could see him. Feigning a stab at the attacker on the right, Wynic kicked the other in the side, pushing him so he impaled himself on his comrade's sword which had come forward to parry Wynic's stab.
Looking at his comrade in shock, the cutthroat had forgotten about Wynic, before it was too late.
Victoria was bleeding from a cut on her forearm, but nothing major. Ripping a scrap of cloth off one of the dead amateurs, Wynic prepared a crude bandage for Victoria's arm. Her fur cloak had been ripped length ways, so Wynic placed a cloak from one of the cutthroats around the cutthroats around her shoulders to keep her warm. His own cloak had been frayed slightly, but nothing a good tailor couldn't fix.
"You can stay at my place tonight," he mumbled quietly, taking her arm in his.

"Devid boil some water for me on the stove, and go down to the market and buy Lady Victoria a new fur cloak will you?" asked Wynic, helping Victoria into a velvet padded chair.
"Yes master. Shall I buy some more food as well? King Redhawk eats like a pig," asked Wynic's retainer
"Yes of course," replied Wynic, still not used to having servants even after four years of living in the mansion.
"So," Victoria sighed. "All in a days work, eh?" she said, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Too bad we didn't get paid for it."
"Actually, I believe there's a reward for those guys. So I told Devid to send a servant down to the city patrol office to explain what happened, collect the reward, and inform them to remove the carcasses. Besides, I think you'll want your Sternum Star back," chuckled the assassin, sitting down beside her.
Victoria reached over and caressed Wynic's face. Leaning forward Wynic gave her a long, lingering kiss.
"You better go check on the stove," she suggested halfheartedly.
"Right away," said Wynic, jumping up, and returned with a cloth and a pot of hot water. Removing the crude bandage, he gently daubed her cut with the damp cloth, wiping off the dried blood, and cleaning it so it could be properly bandaged to prevent infection. After dressing the wound, Wynic wiped his hands on his pants, and went to the kitchen with the pot and cloth.
"Now where were we?" he asked, returning from the kitchen.
"Victoria stood up and walked over to him. "I don't know," she said. "But this feels right," she murmured putting her arms around him, and kissing him.
"You're right. It does feel right," Wynic agreed, scooping her up in his arms, and carrying her up to his room.
In the middle of the night, Wynic woke as usual and crawled out from under the warm silk sheets. He pulled on a robe, gently kissed Victoria on the cheek, and ruffled her beautiful hair. Not wanting to wake her, he moved quickly and silently with the ease of a veteran burglar. He opened the door, stepped quickly past it and closed it behind him. His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he made his way to his study. Entering the shadowy room, he went over to the window, and sat down in a comfortable, black leather covered chair.
Wynic had went through this process almost every night with no real reason, other than he couldn't sleep unless he did. Now it felt as normal as taking his next breath.
Silently, he drifted into a state of half consciousness, and remained that way until the first specks of light appeared on the eastern horizon. From here he could see the main bulk of the city and even Lake Vormia. After awhile, smoke started to rise from chimneys, and people started to appear on the streets, starting their day.
A knock on the door startled the semi-comatose assassin. "Enter," he called.
Redhawk strolled in with heavy lines under his eyes. His hair was untidy and his mustaches were crooked.
"Did you sleep well?" Wynic greeted the knight.
"No," replied Redhawk. "It had to do with what Lady Bardelias said to me."
"Oh?"
"But don't worry about it. I had Gith put a snake in her bed. I'm kinda surprised we didn't hear the scream last night!" laughed Redhawk, sitting down in a seat beside him.
Wynic grinned. "You don't need to cheer me up. Lady Victoria took care of that!"
"Yes. Devid said you two were in a fight last night?" asked Redhawk, grabbing a bottle of Kinian Red and a goblet.
"You've heard of that band of rogues preying on people during the twilight hours?" asked Wynic. "That was probably them."
"Yeah?"
"Well, they tried jumping Victoria and I in the park. You can't see exactly where from here, but I'm pretty sure none of them have moved since," explained Wynic, trying to point out the tree in the distance.
"Did you get the reward?" asked Redhawk. He poured another goblet of wine.
"Devid sent a servant down to the city patrol office for me. The fellow will explain what happened and retrieve Victoria's Sternum Star as well as collect the reward for me," Wynic said, picking up an empty goblet.
"Wantsum? So speaking of your Lady friend when do I get to meet the lovely girl?" asked Redhawk, filling the proffered goblet.
"As soon as she awakes to join us in breaking the fast," replied Wynic, taking a sip.

"What was all that racket last night?" shouted Willium, sitting down at his fasting table to eat. He shivered in the chill morning air and regretted not wearing one of his thicker tunics.
"It seems your daughter's pet snake somehow got into Lady Bardelias' bed. The Lady fainted I'm afraid and according to your daughter, the young man accompanying the Lady stomped on her 'poor baby snake's tail and murdered her'. Your daughter is at this moment out in the garden with all her dolls and other pets performing a little funeral for the snake, or what's left of him, in the bulb bed," Gith explained solemnly. "Her poor little heart is broken Sire," he sighed. Inwardly, he regretted making the princess so sad, but it had to be done before the gardener finally got so angry as to depose of the troublesome snake.
"What do you think I should do? I would hate to have her so sad for the rest of the month? Even though the snake has become a hassle in the last few days," Willium asked with a semi-sad sigh.
"If I were you sire, I would dress up as if I was grieving, go out and attend the funeral. Two weeks from now, when she's happier, buy her a pony," replied Gith.
"Gith, if you weren't my retainer and I didn't have a high advisor, I'd make you my high advisor in a flash," grinned Willium.
"Complement accepted, Sire," answered Gith. "Though I doubt I'd accept. The palace would be in ruins without me I'm afraid."
"Where is Zakarias? He was supposed to meet me here to break the fast?" Willium said impatiently.
"I shall send a servant up to check on him Sire," Gith said. "Perhaps he has gotten lost, the grounds are fairly large after all!" He bowed and left to carry out his other duties.

"Emperor Zakarias," said a servant, patiently knocking on the door to the Emperor's guest chambers. "King Willium has grown quite worried about you, and has sent me to check on you." When there was no answer the servant pounded on the door.
"Good servant," cried Prince Zakarias in disdain. "Would you mind keeping it down?"
"I'm terribly sorry, Sire, but your father isn't answering, and King Willium has grown worried about him," replied the servant.
"Then just go in and wake him. My father won't mind," snorted Zakarias angrily. He muttered in old Celestial.
"If you wish, Sire," replied the servant, opening the door, and stepping inside. A breeze of fresh air, from the open window, tuned the servant's senses, and he recognized the wonderful aroma of bacon. Somehow the breeze had carried the smell all the way from the nearest tavern, which was obviously serving the first meal of the day. The smell made the servant suddenly hungry as he looked about the room.
Walking over to the window he started to close it, and suddenly cried out. "Oh no!" he screamed. "Emperor!"

"Lady Victoria," cried Redhawk merrily. "So you are as beautiful as a blood rose in full blossom covered in sparkling morning dew, like Wynic said."
"Wynic said that?" Victoria asked surprised.
"I didn't say that," Wynic admitted. "But it's more than true."
Victoria blushed, and sat down.
"So this is the woman who gave Wynic his first black eye," said Redhawk. "Wynic must've been distracted by your outrageous beauty to have been hit so hard. You should be proud of yourself."
"Who says I'm not?" asked Victoria innocently.
"Excuse me milady. I have brought you your meal. I trust you're feeling well this morning?" asked Devid, setting down a plate of potatoes, toast, eggs and bacon.
"Thank you, and yes, I'm feeling much better!" replied Victoria, sniffing at the wonderful aroma of bacon.
"Is there anything else any of you would like?" asked Devid.
"Thank you, Devid. I'll have some more Kinian toast," said Redhawk. He leaned back in his chair and politely stifled a belch. Taking the plate from Devid, he looked up at him. "Dev' for your lack of experience making Kinian food, you would make the most experienced Kinian chefs jealous with just the smell."
"You better take the complement Dev' before he eats it like everything else in the place," chuckled Wynic.
The walls of the dining room were paneled oak and polished to a shine, but the significant thing was they had cut each individual panel from one huge Arthian oak in a fashion so the grain went all the way around the room. It gave the impression that you were inside some great trunk of a tree, much like Kinian Hollowwood in which some Kinians made cottages out of. Wynic liked the cozy atmosphere of the room.
"So what are you doing today?" asked Redhawk, finishing off the last of his food.
"I don't know. I had figured on going down to the market, and shopping. Since my funds are so high, I won't need to work for several months," mumbled Wynic, shoving his chair away from the table.
"I don't see why you couldn't hold a steady job. Like I don't know, captain of a city patrol or something," suggested Victoria, taking a sip of wine.
"Perhaps, but wouldn't that be a waste of my skills?" Wynic asked, standing up and walking over to the heavy oaken door.
"Maybe you could buy a business or something so that you have money coming in everyday and you still don't do any work," suggested Victoria. "I'm not a business type, but I do own several shops, the archery shop that the assassin broke a window in yesterday, a little sword shop north of here, a glass blowing shop, and a Sternum metalshop."
"Actually," Redhawk cleared his throat. "I neglected to return something to your archery shop," he said, getting up and leaving the room.
"Why would you buy all those shops?" asked Wynic inquisitively.
"Because now I have something to fall back on when I retire or if I'm injured and can't work. Besides, I get free weapons," shrugged Victoria.
"Why did you bring this up?" asked Wynic, leaning against the door frame.
Victoria grinned seductively. "Lets go shop shopping!"
The thought struck Wynic as funny and he burst out laughing.
"Here's your bow," said Redhawk, returning with a finely crafted bow. He looked at Wynic curiously. "I'm terribly sorry, I forgot to return it afterwards!"
"Apology accepted," Victoria said, accepting the bow.
"What's wrong with Wynic?" asked Redhawk, staring at the assassin who was by now clutching his sides as if to keep his laughter suppressed.
"Nothing. We're just going shopping," said Victoria standing up.

"What's going on?" yelled Prince Zakarias, snorting fiercely and swearing in old Celestial.
"Your father!" cried the servant, his voice hoarse as he struggled to draw breath. "He's dead!"
It seemed to the servant that Zakarias was the fastest thing in the world, so quick did the Prince bust the oak doors off their hinges. He ran across the hallway to his father's chamber. The doors landing only after he had crossed the huge chamber completely and collapsed in a splintered heap.
"Father," cried Zakarias, quickly searching the room.
The servant cried, frantically pointing at the window with shaking limbs.
The great celestial rushed to the open window and cried out in horror. Emperor Zakarias lay on the marble cobblestone several floors down. His neck was twisted awkwardly.
"Father!" screamed Zakarias, sprinting from the room.
Chancellor Adams stepped into the hall. "What's all the damn ruckus?" he shouted.
Zakarias snorted fiercely, lifting Adams above his head, never breaking his stride, high above his head and throwing him against the wall, out of his way. Zakarias continued to the grand staircase. He hurdled the balcony, landing on a servant and cushioning his fall.
"What the hell is going on?" cried King Willium, appearing in a doorway.
Zakarias ran across the grand hall and leaped through a window, breaking the very frame of it with his huge bulk. Shaking glass shards off, Zakarias ran across the marble cobblestones to his father's body.
"No!" cried Zakarias, cradling his father's head in his huge arms. "No!" he screamed out in dispair.

The doors to Wynic Doxon's mansion burst open and Prince Zakarias rushed into the hall. "Wynic," he screamed hoarsely.
"Zakarias! What's going on?" shouted Wynic, emerging with Victoria and Redhawk from the dining hall.
"My father's dead," cried Zakarias, sobbing uncontrollably.
"What? What are you doing here?" asked Redhawk, taking Zakarias's arm and steadying the shaking Prince.
"I didn't know where else to go!" cried the celestial, trembling.
"Come in here, and sit down. Tell us what happened?" said Victoria, trying to calm him down. Motioning him into the dining hall. Wynic and Redhawk followed, taking an arm each and helped the celestial into a chair.
"Okay now, calm down, and tell us what happened," said Redhawk, pouring the Prince a goblet of Kinian Red.
Zakarias took a deep breath. "My father's dead. The servant found him. He was lying on the ground outside his window. His neck was broken." Zakarias started to sob uncontrollably again.
"Here, drink this," said Victoria, taking the goblet of wine from Redhawk. She held it up to Zakarias's lips. The celestial took the goblet with a shaking hand, spilling half of it, but managed to drink the rest.
"Okay, now tell us everything," said Wynic soothingly.
"The servant screamed, and I ran into my father's room to see what was going on. My father was outside, on the ground. His neck was twisted," explained Zakarias, noticeably calmer.
Redhawk glanced questioning at Wynic. The assassin nodded in reply.
"What happened then?" asked Victoria, refilling Zakarias's goblet.
"I ran down there, and then I came here," said Zakarias, starting to sob again.
"How did you get here?" asked Redhawk, pouring himself a goblet of wine.
"I ran," cried Zakarias, taking a sip of wine.
"All the way?" Victoria asked surprised.
"Yes," mumbled Zakarias.
"Zakarias, you do realize your father was assassinated?" asked Wynic, startling the huge celestial.
"What?"
"If we can get there before anyone moves his body and talk to the servant, we might be able to find the bastard that killed your father," said Wynic, standing up.
"You're right," said Zakarias, standing up somewhat unsteadily, but with powerful determination. Victoria saw the fierce fire in Zakarias's eyes grow, and realized what a great leader this young celestial Prince would become.
"Redhawk, go get a taxi carriage. I'll go get our swords. I have a feeling we may need them," said the assassin, leaving the room. "Right," agreed the knight, heading for the door.
"Do you need a weapon Zakarias? I don't know if we'll need it, but I trust Wynic's instinct," asked Victoria, picking up the finely crafted bow off the table.
"Yes, I do," replied Zakarias. "Oh, gods, what am I going to do?" he sobbed suddenly.
"You're going to find whoever killed your father and the bastard who hired him," answered Victoria, sensing the celestial's worries. She handed him the bow. "You're going to do what your father would have done if it had been you. Tear the countryside apart until you find the murderer!"
The fire in Zakarias's eyes grew to a roar. "What's your name?" he asked suddenly.
"Victoria," she said, holding out her hand.
"Thank you, Victoria!" said Zakarias, shaking her hand.
"Zakarias! Where have you been? We were very worried about you when you ran off," cried King Willium. He rushed across the grand hall to meet them. His face was puffy and red, and he was obviously flustered.
"You haven't moved Zakarias's body, have you?" Wynic demanded, intercepting the King.
"Well no. We've been busy looking for Prince Zakarias," snapped Willium.
"Good. Now where's the servant that found him?" asked Wynic. "Send the servant up to Zakarias's chambers," he said, following Zakarias up the grand staircase. "Redhawk, you and Victoria check Zakarias for bruises," yelled the assassin from the balcony.
"Right," Redhawk called back, already helping Victoria through the broken window frame.
"What's going on here?" yelled Willium, utterly confused.
"Zakarias was assassinated," came the reply.

Redhawk kneeled down, and probed the Emperor's huge chest for broken bones. "Check his head for bruises," he mumbled to Victoria.
She nodded and knelt down beside the knight, and looked the Emperor's huge head over.
"He has three broken ribs, probably broken from the fall," said Redhawk, looking up at Victoria.
"There's a huge bump on the back of his head. His left horn is broken at the tip, and his right cheek is bruised," Victoria glanced back at Redhawk.

"We'll have to wait for the servant, so lets look for any weapons the assassin might have dropped," suggested Wynic, starting to look around the grand chamber.
"Wynic," yelled Redhawk from outside.
"Yeah?" the assassin yelled, going over to look out the window.
"He has three broken ribs, his neck is snapped, there's a huge bump on the back of his head, his left horn is broken at the tip, and he has a bruise on his right cheek," the knight yelled up at Wynic.
"Stand out of the way so I can see," yelled Wynic. "Zakarias how did you find him?"
The celestial walked over to the window and looked out. "His neck was bent towards the left, and he was lying on his right side with his left arm pinned under his back," he yelled.
Redhawk moved the Emperor's body back to its original position.
"Wynic pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Okay, how did he break his horn, and get his cheek bruise," he yelled.
Redhawk shrugged.
"Search the bushes for any weapons," the assassin yelled. He turned to the celestial. "Did you find any weapons?" he asked Zakarias.
"Nothing, but my father's sword, shield, and trident," answered Zakarias, sitting down on the bed.
"You asked to see me, Sire?" said the pale servant, appearing in the doorway.
"Yes, where was everything in the room when you arrive?" asked Wynic, sitting down beside the celestial to think.
"The windows were open more, and the closet door was open," answered the servant.
Wynic crossed the room quickly, and opened the closet door. The closet was empty. "Why was the closet door open?" he asked, turning to the servant.
The servant shrugged.
"Was there any candles or lamps lit when you entered?" asked Wynic.
"Yes, the one on the night table," replied the servant. The candle was burnt out.
"Zakarias. What height was that candle when you were last in here," the assassin asked.
"About an inch. Wait a minute, that means my father lit the candle this morning about a hour before the servant discovered my father," said Zakarias, leaping to his feet.
"Which means your father was killed less than a hour before the servant discovered him dead. Did anyone visit your father during that time?" asked Wynic, walking over to the window.
"No," answered the celestial, dismissing the servant.
"That means the intruder came through the window which has a lock," said Wynic, checking the window. "And this one has been picked," he noted.
"Wynic, Zakarias, I found a mace!" yelled Victoria.
"Okay. Bring it up here," yelled Wynic to Redhawk and Victoria. He sat down by the window and pondered why the assassin had left his weapon. Either he was an amateur, which wasn't likely from what Wynic saw of the lock, or it had been left behind on purpose. A calling card perhaps?
"So what do we know?" asked Victoria, when she and Redhawk appeared in the doorway.
"Where would you say the mace was made?" Wynic asked.
"It was made in Lomedor," answered Victoria. "The metalsmith carved his name and the date he forged it into the handle."
"Okay, the assassin was likely a Colnician, with the ability to pick locks. Obviously skilled and experienced. He is left handed. He killed the Emperor this morning, so he's probably fleeing right now," explained Wynic.
"How do you know he's left handed?" demanded Zakarias.
"Zakarias," said Redhawk. "Stand in front of me, and try to punch me in the right cheek with your right fist." The celestial tried, but couldn't, it was too awkward.
"So. I just use my left hand."
"Since you're right handed, that means that your left arm is weaker than your right so you can't really cause much damage with your left as you could with your right," explained Wynic, from down the hall.
Zakarias stopped suddenly and looked thoughtful.
"Come on. What are you waiting for? We have to go check the city guard records, and see how many Colnic's left the city this morning," yelled Redhawk impatiently.
"I just thought of something," said Zakarias, looking at Wynic.
"What?" asked the assassin.
"Do you know what would happen if word of this reaches my mother in Evicoth?" the celestial asked.
"No," shrugged Wynic.
"My mother stayed in Evicoth to watch over my younger brothers and sisters, as well as take care of the politics in my father's absence. She has a terrible temper, and would almost certainly declare war on Arthian," explained Zakarias.
"Undoubtedly, the news of your father's death has already spread to the celestials and messengers have been sent already to tell the Empress," said Wynic thoughtfully. He dreaded politics even though it was usually involved in his line of work.
"I'll go talk to King Willium, and take care of this matter of war. You, Victoria and Redhawk, go to the city guards and find this assassin," said Zakarias, adopting an official tone.
"Right, let's go," cried Wynic, racing down the grand staircase, Redhawk and Victoria right behind him.
"King Willium," yelled the celestial. "I wish to speak with you in your study."

"I don't understand! Why would your mother declare war on Arthian? We didn't do anything," complained Willium, leaning forward in his chair.
"My mother doesn't need a reason, her wrath is so great that she'd likely tear Arthian apart herself, if she didn't have an army to do it for her. Now what we have to do is send for aid from Colnic and Kinian in this matter. You have more experience in these matters, so I'm asking you to help me?" explained Zakarias, standing up and pacing.
"I'll do it for you Zakarias, but what are you going to do?" replied Willium, looking about his study.
The King's study was white washed with a marble pillar on either side of the huge oak door. Facing the door was a giant window, which overlooked the royal gardens, and the southern corner of the city. The other two walls were covered with shelves filled with books and scrolls. the only thing that made the study truly unique was that the desk and the King's chair were raised about two feet above the floor so that the King looked more domineering, this however had no effect on Zakarias due to his height.
"I will be grieving, may I ask to use the royal catacombs below the palace to store my father's body?" asked Zakarias hoarsely.
"Yes, of course you may. You may use my crypt, I'm not using it!" said Willium, making an attempt to cheer Zakarias up.
"Don't bother. Right now the only thing that could do that would be knowing that the bastard who did this is dead," replied the Prince, reaching for the door. "That or killing him myself!"
"Gith will show you to the catacombs."

"Victoria. What are you doing here? You don't have work today," cried the captain harshly.
"You've heard of Zakarias's death?" asked Victoria, placing her hands on her hips.
"Of course! It's all over the city! Now what's going on?" yelled the captain, his face turning red.
"We're looking for the Emperor's assassin. We need to see your records from this morning," said Wynic, pushing past Victoria.
"He wasn't assassinated! He fell out the window," declared the captain.
"Then why did we find this near the Emperor's body?" asked Wynic, holding the mace in front of the captain's face.
"So he dropped it when he fell," spat the captain.
"The Emperor doesn't even own a mace!" argued Wynic.
"So what? You still can't see the records. Only guards of high rank can see them," answered the captain smugly.
"I insist," said Wynic, his hand closing over the hilt of his sword.
"Who are you, and by what right do you order me about?" snorted the captain, signaling the guards to be ready.
"Wynic Doxon, by direct orders of King Willium, the Emperor's son Prince Zakarias and King Blackaxe!" spat Wynic, adding King Blackaxe's name, the most intimidating man in the world. Everyone was afraid of King Blackaxe.
The captain and his guards trembled slightly when Wynic mentioned the Black King. "Roberts," cried the captain. "Bring this morning's records." One of the guards went into the tower and returned a moment later with a small stack of paper.
Taking the stack from the guard, Wynic sat down cross-legged on the ground.
"Remember, we're looking for a Colnic, probably dressed like a mercenary, probably with his pockets loaded down with gold coins," Redhawk reminded them, sitting down beside Wynic, and taking a third of the stack from the assassin.
Sitting down