Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Exile's Road ❯ Chapter 9

Exile's Road: Nine

 

Midori was amused by her companions' surprise, and even more by the young queen's amused gaze. Clearly Gwen didn't object that badly to her casually offered suggestion, even though she turned away from that option for the time being.

 

"I still can't believe you said that," Laur'ien, the tawny haired young woman tugging a bit uncomfortably on her maid's dress.

 

Midori just ignored that, she and Laur'ien having moved aside to allow the queen to talk privately with Jantha. They spoke quietly, dropping their voices to keep the two bodyguards from hearing and Midori approved. Too many nobles in her experience forgot about servants, revealing information that could be terribly damaging under the right circumstances.

 

"This place is pretty secure," Laur'ien noted softly, her own eyes warily scanning the chamber around them. With a slight frown she added, "The only thing that really worries me is someone paying off the guards for access."

 

Midori also looked around them, but she sounded far less happy as she scolded, "You think too simply, soldier."

 

"Eh?" Laur'ien blinked.

 

Midori discretely looked up at the vaulted ceiling rising up above them... and to the windows on the levels far above them. "The Genin are far less likely to try to come in openly," she whispered to her softly, "skulking about in the shadows suits them better."

 

"Damn," Laur'ien murmured, her slightly narrowed eyes swiftly taking in all the shadows high above them.

 

Jantha and the Queen finally separated, then the lovely blonde called out to them, "And what are you two plotting?"

 

"Plotting boarding up your windows, your Majesty," Midori bowed as she addressed her words to the young queen.

 

"The outside wall is nearly unpassable," Gwen said to her confidently, "do you truly believe that assassins could gain entry?"

 

"Once upon as time," Midori said to her dryly, "I scaled such a building, Majesty, and I know I am less skilled at such arts than a Genin assassin." She paused before continuing, "Tis better to be safe than sorry, I'd say."

 

There was the oddest look on Jantha's face as she studied Midori, possibly imagining her trying to scale the outer wall, then shook herself. "She could have a point," she addressed her cousin, "and it costs little to be wary."

 

"There's movement," Laur'ien's voice was sharp.

 

Midori moved over to the throne swiftly, roughly shoving Jantha behind her and up against the stone wall where the Queen sat up in surprise. "Your eyes are a bit better than mine then," Midori said gruffly, "I don't see...."

 

The knife arched out from the darkness and without even thinking about it Midori slapped the weapon from the air with her staff. Laur'ien drew her knives from somewhere beneath her maid's dress, her expression grim, "I only saw him because he moved."

 

"My error, then," he said as he slipped into the torch light. The black the man wore was a dull color, intended to absorb the light, even as the coal that painted his face did and he moved with a sinister grace, sliding not walking.

 

"Leave this place, now," Gwen commanded, her young voice full of royal authority.

 

"I'm afraid I cannot do that," his voice sounded almost respectful, "the price on the Duchess Jantha remains uncollected." He drew another knife, "If your warriors would care to step aside, I'll make it as painless as possible."

 

"I would not be an oathbreaker, scum," Midori said to him coldly, her eyes narrowed in anger. She didn't hear an accent in the man's voice, he was clearly from her homeland, but she couldn't quite place his dialect.

 

The assassin's eyes widened at hearing the way she shaped her words, then he studied her face intently. "Why do you risk yourself to protect these gaijin?" he demanded in surprise, speaking in the language that they both shared.

 

'From the northlands,' Midori finally nailed where he was from. "I gave my word," she repeated, "that is enough, I think." She looked at him as she put the weight of authority in her own words, "This is not our land and people, assassin, leave here."

 

"I too have given my word," he stiffened, "and my guild, too." With a slightly regretful shrug he added, "We will not be forsworn."

 

"Do either of you understand any of that?" Gwen demanded harshly.

 

"Bits and pieces," Laur'ien surprised them by answering, "she told him she's not leaving us to his tender mercies, basically."

 

"I'm glad," Jantha murmured.

 

The assassin charged, knives gleaming in each hand but Midori was ready, catching one blade on her staff even as she grabbed a hold of his other arm. Yanking him off balance she used a old bar fighting trick and slammed her head into his, stunning the killer a moment.

 

"Damn it," Laur'ien cursed under her breath as Midori and the assassin really got into it, knives and staff almost a blur.

 

"Why aren't you helping?" Gwen demanded.

 

"I don't dare," Laur'ien said, frustration in her voice, "if I jump in he could turn my attack against Midori, or I may simply get in her way."

 

The staff spun in Midori's hands, the warrior moving like she was dancing as she fought. She was always centered, balanced, while still ready to face whatever he dared to bring against her. More and more the killer seemed confused, frustrated that his strikes couldn't get through.

 

They drew back for a moment, staring at each other warily as they circled each other. "You've been trained well," the assassin finally admitted, "I would almost wonder if you were not one of our guild yourself."

 

"You flatter yourself," Midori answered coldly, her staff and fighting stance angled to reveal as few of her vulnerable points as possible, "I was merely trained to protect from one such as you." She conceded reluctantly, "You are good, tho."

 

"Will you yield?" he asked optimistically.

 

"No," Midori took hold of the end of her heavy oaken staff and twisted it, just slightly, then with a hiss drew the concealed, slim sword from the wooden sheath. The straight, gleaming blade shone in the torch light, a watermark shimmering along it's well balanced length, a stylized emblem engraved near the hilt.

 

The assassin hesitated, gazing at the sword and it's wielder then smiled just slightly. "That isn't easy to craft," he said, "and that symbol.. he only crafted swords for nobility."

 

"Remind me to chide my guards for not searching Midori," Gwen commented into the silence, giving her cousin a look.

 

"I didn't know," Jantha admitted.

 

Laur'ien watched, her eyes intent as she studied the two warriors. "Midori is a better swordswoman than I thought," she murmured, "I think we're saved."

 

"We'll see," Gwen said grimly.

 

Midori moved without warning, sword flashing but the assassin was simply gone, leaping into the shadows. "We'll play this game again," he called as he used a cable to swiftly climb up to one of the upper story windows.

 

"Get back here," Midori growled, running forward to grab at the cable but he cut it with one of his knives, sending the unused portion to fall on her.

 

"Not today swordlady," he crouched in the window. Oddly he bowed slightly, "I'm honored to face one such as you, lord." And with that he was gone.

 

"We are definitely boarding up those windows," Laur'ien sighed with disgust.

 

Midori sheathed her sword then twisted, locking the weapon within her staff even as she walked back to their side. "Is everyone all right?" she demanded, her eyes falling on Jantha.

 

"Yes," Jantha looked up to meet her eyes, "thanks to you."

 

Gwen sat on her throne, remarkably calm as she looked at Midori intently and said, "I too owe you my life, m'lady."

 

"Just doing my duty," Midori answered coolly.

 

To be continued....