Chapter 1
Abitterly cold wind howled its way through the village, banging against any loose shutters and knocking at the entryways. Now and then, an unbarred door flew open, only to be slammed shut by a frigid occupant inside. Though only a few hours past midday, the dark roll of clouds overhead belied the appearance of the coming dusk. Days of pelting rain had dampened both structures and spirits alike, and a thick paste of mud and slosh floated above the cart trails and footpaths.
Huddled in the vestibule of the darkened blacksmith shop, one bedraggled man waited. He stomped his feet to keep the blood moving in them as he clutched firmly at the cloak fastened beneath his chin. The hood provided only the barest defense against the cold and wind, but its true purpose was served.
It concealed his identity from anyone who might chance to look his way.
Looking down at his disguise, the man sneered at the cheap cut of the blouse and overcoat, the faint smell of camphor and body stench in the threadbare cloth. He somehow managed to ignore the urge to retch in disgust at the thought it was touching his skin. These were the only garments he could procure at such short notice, and though they would serve their purpose, he longed for a lengthy scalding in a soapy tub to rid him of their filth when this was over.
A sudden movement of black against the gray outdoors caught the man’s eye. He looked out, but spotted no one. A few moments later, he imagined he saw another movement, but he couldn’t be sure this time either. The man began to grow anxious, certain that someone was nearby and having their fun with him. He kept his eyes fixed on the area in front of the shop, intent on not being taken by surprise.
He nearly screamed when a hand clapped his shoulder from behind. Whirling around, he scowled at the other man’s confident expression.
“Didn’t think I’d show, did ya?” the second man asked, taking in the sight of the other man’s haggard appearance. “And what’s all this ya wearing? You look like something a fish might have spit upon the shore! Fairly well smell like it, too.”
“Never you mind my appearance!” the man barked. “You’re late!”
“Eh, you’ll find that timepieces don’t mean much in my world, not unless I’m lifting them off a dainty and selling ‘em for a good price.” The newcomer shrugged as though that explained all. “Now what’s this business of yours that’s got you asking around for Prince Aaron?”
“Ah, a prince, is it?”
Aaron only shrugged again, smiling broadly, before saying, “I figures ‘tis the closest I’ll ever get to court unless I’m being read me charges before they hang me. There’s no harm in laying claim to a title of me own! ‘Sides, I’m truly a prince in the circles I travel in, ‘tis why you sought me out. What’s this work you’ve got for me?”
The man looked about again to be sure no one was near, then reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small purse of coins.
“I need someone to disappear,” he explained, holding the purse just out of reach.
“If this person is you, then ‘tis done!” the rogue joked, eyeing the purse and already judging the weight of its contents.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I don’t mean myself!” The man took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then said, “I sought you out because you are rumored to be the best. You charge a hefty price, to be sure, but there will be no mistakes, no missteps. And most of all, no connection to myself.”
“Aye, all of that’s true,” Aaron said with a confident nod.
“And I take it you have no qualms about carrying out the most heinous of deeds? One that would turn the stomach of any man with the merest sense of morality?”
“Morals is only somethin’ you can afford if you’re monied,” Aaron replied as casually as if discussing the price of soup bones. “The rest of us? We’d slit our own mothers’ throats if it meant we go to bed with a full belly. What is this heinous crime?”
The man seemed to pause, weighing his words as though he might back out. For a moment, he seemed to wrestle with his cause.
“Good sir,” Aaron assured him, “yer payin’ me that purse there for me trouble, whether ya hire me or not. You might as well tell me the task so I can get on with it and earn the rest of my pay.”
“You’re right,” the man said. “I need you to abscond with someone.”
“Sorry? Abscond? Yer gonna have to speak more plain than that, I fear.”
“Kidnap. Run away with. Remove. Understand?” The man glowered at Aaron, still darting his eyes this way and that to ensure they were not overheard. Another fierce howl of the wind assured him that no one would venture near them without cause.
“Ah, ya want me to get rid of yer wife’s lover then, eh? Is that it? Some fool has made you a cuckold and ya want him gone!” Aaron laughed heartily at the notion, his thick black hair falling in his eyes as he looked at this simpering man who so obviously detested both Aaron and his actions.
“No! And if you half knew the entire story, you’d shut up your trap and do this task without compensation!” the man roared, ignoring his own fears about detection.
Aaron stopped cold. It was his turn to glare at this stranger, the man who was so obviously frightened of being found out. For a moment, it seemed as though Aaron might turn on his heel and reject the proposal, but then again, the other man seemed just as likely to turn tail and run. Quietly, the rogue nodded and thought through what must be done.
“What makes this ‘removal’ so detestable in your eyes then?” he asked.
“I cannot say. But you will understand when you complete the task.”
“Ya know, I was only making jest about slitting our mothers’ throats! There’s things even I will naw do for money!” Aaron hissed.
