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The three glance nervously to each other, the one with the cloth dabbing at his nose offers the bota of ka-la-na, his fingers slipping on the condensation distilled onto the chilled glass from the damp air. The Assassin shakes his head, placing a gloved hand over the mouth of the empty goblet. "It dulls the reflexes and addles the brain, I drink only water or the juice of the larma and at the moment I have no thirst. Neither am I here to exchange pleasantries, state your need." The three look at the hooded figure, skin crawling in response to the icy voice. One clears his throat and begins...... "I am Tikarl, you may have heard of me. I am a merchant, a trader and a Tavern-Owner here in Ar..........." ".....You are also better known as Tikarl the Slaver." The Assassin interrupts. Tikarl glares, then looks away....... "That is true, but irrelevant. You are here for one reason and one reason only, I have a task for you, one which, I am told, you are qualified to undertake. I wish you to eliminate a pair who have caused trouble both for me and for my associates here. Tikarl points to the one with the swollen nose, "This is Olnar, also a Merchant,.... alright Slaver . And this is my Guard Captain, he is known, simply as Red, for obvious reasons. The Guard Captain leans forward into the lamplight, his snow coloured hair, and eyebrows, the pink/red eyes....an albino. He grins, showing cracked and broken teeth. The Assassin studies Red, noting the flickering of the eyes, this is one to watch........... Tikarl speaks again..... "Do you have a name ?" The soft voice replies...."Aye, but it is of no interest to you. As I said, state your need, agree the price and I shall depart," "There is a Scribe of Thentis, named Ornoth, who regards himself as something of a poet, a narrator .... he considers that he is the guardian of the morals of Gor and spreads malicious false hoods about me, my fellow businessmen and my interests. Many believe, the old Urth saying of there being "No smoke without a flame" or some such and it is beginning to effect my profits. I wish to see him silenced, permanently. In addition he has a slave, whose name is perle, she acts as a gatherer of rumour and lies, to feed his rantings. I wish her to be removed." The Assassin nods "A poet and a slave..... you want a Guild Assassin to remove these two minor irritations, which any of your guards could deal with easily, in any dark alley. You insult my Brotherhood." He rises, and turns to leave..... "Wait." Tikarl cries..."There is more. This Ornoth has powerful friends, some may be my rivals, those I can handle, but there are others...Camp Leaders, Captains, Administrators, for all I know agents of Samos himself, who take note of his lies, who also conspire to ruin me and my honour. I cannot afford to be implicated in any way. I will pay well for their silence." The Assassin pauses and turns. "So this is a political killing, an expensive business, also risky for me. Humour me, Tikarl. Is it that he lies or is it that this Ornoth speaks the truth?" "I give you my word, Friend. On my honour, on my life, none of his ravings are true. Now as to price. I will pay 2000 gold Tarndisks for Ornoth and a further 400 for the slave. Half now, half later....... "No.....full payment in advance, I will send proof with word of my success, what would satisfy you ...an ear, a finger.......whatever?". The hooded figure laughs "For less than 400, you could buy the slave and dispose of her as you wished, but if it is your choice, then she will die. I will take payment now." Tikarl gestures to Red who hands over two heavy pouches, the Assassin reaches forward with a gloved hand and takes the payment, tucking the pouches into his cloak. "You do not count it ?" Tikarl asks... "There is no need, it is a foolish error to try to cheat one of my calling, as you should know. Now what proof do you wish to receive?". "For Ornoth, the garnet ring from his hand, it is set as the eye of a serpent... for the slave the torq of amber and silver she is said to wear on her arm. There are slaves of mine who can vouch for their authenticity." "It shall be as you desire. I wish you well." The Assassin turns and leaves.
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Chapter Two
- The Warrant of Death