Changing Contracts - A Mercryan Story by Diane Cobrite
Joshua crept silently from the shadows. Alura knew he was coming for her but not from where. She watched the front door oblivious to his presence behind her. Tenderly he wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her back against him. She didn’t have to look to know it was him. Her husband had played this game many times. He pulled her hair to the side with his free arm and buried his face into the back of her neck.
“Another bad contract?” She leaned into his embrace.
“Malicious one.” Joshua squeezed her tightly in his arm encircling her with the second as well. His breath as he spoke tickled the small hairs at the nape of her neck. “The client wanted the target killed on her birthday in the middle of a dinner party. They chose the moment all eyes were on her while her husband raised a glass in her honor.”
For several minutes Alura allowed the moment to drain her husband of his tension, but she loved him too much to not speak her mind. “I want better for you.” She tried to twist so she could face him, but he held her too tightly. She resigned herself to talking to the front door. “You have no say in your contracts. The guild works you worse than a dog and fears you as if you were rabid. You kill where you’re sent and come to me to soothe you when you lose your way. You have no peers in the guild, only weaker men assigning you dirty work.”
Joshua released his wife and stepped back. She spun to face him, finding him gazing at the floor. His voice was gentle but weary. “What would you have me do?” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “My talent is death. There is no escape from that for me.”
Reaching out to him, she brushed his cheek. “If you must kill, then by all means do so. I knew what you were when I married you. Love, I’m only saying you deserve to be the head of the guild. You should be able to choose your contracts.”
At any point he could have taken the position of guild master, he had outlived multiple generations of assassins, but he never desired the responsibility of assigning contracts. Especially the type of contracts that the guild acquired. He didn’t mind damning himself, it was the profession he was born to do. No, it would be extra damning if he gave others the calling of ending life—doubly so, if they succeeded.
Joshua took his wife’s hand and kissed it. “I’ll think about it.” They both knew he was lying.
Three days later while Joshua hunted a new target his estate was set on fire. By the time he returned home, his wife and possessions were a field of collapsed stone and ash.
“I’m leaving the guild."
The guild master, Koen, dropped his quill. “Are you mad? No one leaves alive.”
“That doesn’t change that I’m leaving.” Joshua placed his signed resignation on the desk.
Koen glanced at the document. “Is this because of the death of your wife? You know we had nothing to do with that. I’m sure you’ve found her murderer and dealt with him by now.”
“I did, in my own way.” Joshua knew his statement would be misinterpreted, but he didn’t feel it necessary to explain to the assassin’s guild why he chose to let his wife’s murderer live.
“If you truly mean this, I’ll have to summon the others.” Koen’s forehead prickled with sweat.
“Please do. I’d like this over with so I can be on my way.” Dropping his cloak to the floor, Joshua extracted a set of fighting knives from his boots.
Koen tugged on a rope beside his desk similar to what a noble would pull to summon their attendants. As far back as Joshua’s memories functioned, the rope to gather the masters had never been employed. Having been listed among the masters, the ringing alarm the summoning spell released echoed in Joshua’s mind.
The others came swiftly. Drifting into the room through shadowed pathways they circled Joshua. They were eleven in all, counting a solitary assassin hanging back by the chamber door. The latter and Koen were the only ones not baring weapons.
Standing, Koen pleaded with Joshua once more. After Joshua again refused he addressed the assembly. “Assassin Joshua has chosen to leave this guild and thereby has invoked the Congee Pact. See him off.”
The circle collapsed upon Joshua. The masters were all agile and deadly with their strikes, but they lacked Joshua’s experience. He flowed through them avoiding each attack while dealing his own. They were children, all of them. He had lived longer than there had even been a guild, though he barely remembered such a time. Someday, perhaps, he’d meet another that walked so closely with death—but that was not this day.
“Kill him!” Koen howled at the man still standing by the door. “Complete your contract!”
“I will when I’m ready. Sometime when Joshua’s not waiting for me.” The man slipped out of the room.
Koen glared at Joshua. “If you’re seeking redemption you won’t find it. There isn’t enough redemption in this world of four gods to forgive you for the centuries of contracts you’ve fulfilled.”
“I know that.”
“Then why? You will be hunted ceaselessly—only ending when a dagger finally finds your back. Why leave?”
“Because change found me. Either I accept it and follow it along its course, or I fight and am destroyed by it. If a dagger finds my back tomorrow I welcome it. That there were none here skilled enough to deliver one I can only mourn. Until I am put out of my misery I shall let change have me.”
