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- Mar 25, 2004
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Clad In Shadows is a work-in-progress, yet my best written material so far. I plan to write ten chapters before this done. The story may be pretty long now, but I'd recommend you read what I have now so when I update this thread and story, you can just pick up from where you left off. Everyone who has read this story was inspired and loved it, hopefully you all will too. Enjoy!
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Clad In Shadows:
Chapter One
He moved swiftly through the shadows of each column in the corridor. Draped in black cloth covered with leather patches, the rogue was soundless and swift. Each time the guard looked away, the rogue sneakily crept to the next shadow that he could hide in. Each time he made it to a dark shadow to hide in, he felt a brisk breeze blow through his face as he grasped ahold his curved dagger's hilt, to be ready for any quick ambushes he may not see coming from around the columns he hid behind in the corridor.
The rogue kept doing this same technique to get passed each guard unnoticed. Eventually, the rogue successfully got to the end of the corridor and quietly crept around the corner and slowly opened a dark wooden door with rusted iron borders on it. He entered the room and shut the door behind him, suprisingly, not making a single sound but a click that was no louder than a whisper.
The room was full of old, useless, junk; a beat up iron chest sat in the corner of the room covered in webs and torn papers, in the middle of the room was a small round table with no chairs around it. The only light that entered the room was from the cracks in the door and the moon light that gleamed through a stained glass window at the end of the room.
The rogue's footsteps were muffled by the thick red carpet on the floor of the room; he now felt that it was safe to wander around the room freely without any precautions about him. He searched each shelf full of papers and books carefully and studied the titles of each book and skimming the pages inside, as if he were looking for a specific word that would provide him with an answer. But none of the books had what he was looking for, so he finally went to the trashed iron chest and searched it, pulling out any object he found from it and glancing them. Finally the scoundrel found a marble tablet covered in dust that caught his attention. He pulled it out of the iron chest carelessly and blew the dust off of the tablet. It was too dark to see what it had written on it so he put the tablet in the moon light to get a better look at it.
The rogue's eyes gleamed along with the tablet and a grin came across his wrinkled face. Yes, he had found what he was looking for. Just then, he heard heavy footsteps coming from the corridor. The rogue shoved the tablet into a pouch on his waist and climbed out the window. He dropped from the window to the castle walls which was about two yards below the window. As he landed, he heard a commotion from the room he just left.
Almost instantly, he felt adrenaline rush up his spine, his heart pulsing faster than ever now. He looked around him and saw no one, not a single guard that manned the wall either. He glanced at the window and saw a knight clad in armor that shone in the moonlight stick his head out the window and reach out for the rogue with his sword, but he was still out of reach. The rogue's instincts took over and he hopped over the wall which was about five yards high. He fell and harshly cold wind blew upward into his face. But miraculously he landed in a pool of water. The impact felt like an explosion and the impact of the stench of the water was no better. Quickly, he got up, completely drenched in the vile greenish-brown water of the castle's moat and took off toward the northern hills and strove to reach the forest that lay beyond the grassy hills.
Each footstep, his shoes squished loudly. Almost making it to the forest, he stopped and supported his stance as he heaved and panted, desperately trying to breathe normally again. The adrenaline rush had finally left his body and he was much calmer now that he knows that he can get away and successfully. But he heard a loud thundering noise behind him. He spun around and studied the dark hills behind him and spotted three big dark figures coming towards him, and at a fast pace too. He starred at the figures and noticed that the three figures coming towards him were knights mounted on their steeds.
The rogue knew that they'd have a hard time travelling on horses in the dark forest and they'd have a hard time finding him too. It was his only refuge. He sprinted as fast as he could into the pitch-black forest and ran on and on until he finally tumbled down a hill and lay on his back in a shrub. He starred up at the star-filled sky and the sound of the horse's steps stopped and the rogue heard simply nothing but the crickets and whistling sounds from afar. The rogue got up and walked around, seeing nothing but blackness and some areas were gloomy enough to make out what the objects around it were. The knights were clad in armor just like the one who reached out for the rogue; and the rogue knew that spotting a knight wouldn't be hard, for their shimmering pieces of armor practicly announce their where-abouts.
Suddenly, the rogue came up with a grand idea that climbing and hiding in a tree would be the perfect spot to hide until day came again because knights would never make it up a tree in a million years with all the heavy gear they wore. So that is what finally decided to do and climbed up the closest tree he could find and that is where he slept, hoping that he would not be discovered while he was asleep and defenseless.
Day came and the sun rose above the rolling hills. The rogue woke up in the tree unharmed, yet uncomfortable, and looked around below him and saw now track of the three knights that were hunting for him. Immediately he searched his pouch on his waist to check if the marble tablet was there. He patted his pouch and was relieved to know it was still there. He slowly climbed down the tree and began to walk in any direction that'd take him further from the castle.
Hours passed by. And he had still been walking on for what seemed like an eternity. Passing tree after tree, shrub after shrub, he became easily distracted by anything that moved more than a waving tree. His stomach growled at him and ached more an more. He needed to eat soon or else his strength would be lost and his defenses against anything would be mediocre.
Suddenly, he heard leaves and sticks crunching and crackling on the dry grass, he looked around quickly. It was a small deer, alone and hungry. Simply grazing without a care and showing no sign of caution. The starving assassin took advantage of the deer's unawarness and crept upon the deer slowly and as stealthy as he could. His dagger held high above his head stiffly, it shined in the sun light. Finally he was behind the deer, it's the closest he has ever been to a deer in his life, save the dead deers he has eaten in the past.
With his dagger positioned way above his head high, he swiftly dagger down and into the deer's thigh, the blow was so hard, it sunk deeply into the deer's soft skin and tore through the tissue easily. Amazingly, the stab was perfect enough to make the deer's hind leg completely give out. The rogue pulled his dagger out with a couple jerks and the deer kicked back and attempted to escape from the rogue. As fast and as hard as he could, he jammed his dagger into the deer's other hind leg, this time into the deer's knee cap and disabling it's ability to use it's hind legs. Blood gushed out intensely and the deer let our groans of pain.
It was time to end the deer's misery and slit it's throat now that he had the chance. He walked to the deer and slit it's throat from ear to ear. Blood poured out and it spilled onto the green grass and turned it to a dark red color. Finally the deer collapsed onto the rough dry grass and let out one last breath. It was dead. But it's dimise was the rogue's triumph of the day. He let out a roar that echoed through the forest and began to eat the deer raw. He was too hungry to wait and cook it. But it still tasted rich to him. Rich enough to satisfy him and his stomach. It was a job well done and it was time to begin his journey to his home town, Nore Shire.
Chapter Two
After he had finished eating his well earned meal, he started walking North where Nore Shire lied. The walk went on for hours. And pretty soon, the sun began to sink back behind the trees, under the hills and mountains. It was getting late and dark. But the rogue finally climbed up a steep hill and was able to see the end of the forest! The glaring sun triumphed through the leaves of the trees and passed through the trees themselves. The sight was glorious for the tired man and he knew that it'd take just a couple more hours until his journey had came to a halt. There was no stopping now.
He hiked up small steep hills, across narrow, rugged, rocky, rivers and streams, ever so determined to be done with his travel. And then, he made it. He had finally made it to the light that beamed so intently onto him, warming his cool skin. He paused for a moment and closed his eyes as he inhaled with satisfaction. Calm and happy thoughts raced through his mind. His body became relaxed and he pressed on foward north up through the rolling hills of grass. His dagger still gleamed in the sun light, even as it was still drenched in dried blood. It was brown and crusted, pieces of the dried blood would often dissipate when the wind blew and snatched off pieces.
Two and a half hours passed and finally he could see from a distance, a small village. His heart began to beat rapidly and he could wait no longer, he ran towards the village, hill over hill, he did not stop. Without going out of breath, his stamina served him well and got him to the village in less than half an hour. The village was calm and not a local outside. The rogue grinned when he spotted his hovel made of large river stones and his roof of hay. He walked in through a door made of old wet planks. The interior was not much and his hovel had no windows, save the unpatched holes and cracks between each stone placed in the 'walls'.
For a bed, he had a cloth mat that had scattered hay and fur on it. Other than a bed, he had a normal wooden stool, a desk made of a wood, and some shelves carved into his wall where he kept his stolen goods and artifacts. He pulled out the marble tablet from his pouch and carefully placed it on one of his shelves and starred at it for a moment, lost in deep thoughts.
Rays of light reflected off of the marble tablet and shined into the rogue's eyes, he leaned back and shielded his eyes from the light. He was too tired to deal with any of his neighbors and tell them about his new treasure, so he went to bed and slept.
The next day he got up and sat on his little wooden stool, starring at the marble tablet with such determination as he stroked his chin repeadidly. For hours he studied the marble tablet. He tried to read the words that were written on it in a golden ink that glowed in the dark. The rogue suspected that there was something superior in the marble tablet. Something magical. And the more it glowed, the more he was attracted into watching the stone more and more.
But finally after hours of waiting, he heard someone knocking at the door. He quickly answered the door excitedly, hoping it was who he wanted it to be. He swung the door open and a fairly old man wearing a green vest and tan pants with a gut from his belly overhanging his leather belt.
"Good afternoon, sir!" the rogue greeted, "please, come on in." The man entered the hovel and looked around. A facial expression of unsatisfactory came across his face.
"Would you like something to eat?" the rogue held out a pan full of scrambled eggs in front of the man's face.
"No, thank you." declined the man, "if you don't mind, I'd like it for us to get straight to business; I have other things to tend to."
"Sure thing." the rogue walked to his stone shelf and pulled out the marble tablet and let the man hold it. The glowing letters lit up the man's face and revealed a grinning wrinkled face.
"Finally it is mine!" whispered the man to himself.
"Not just yet." the rogue interrupted, "first I expect my pay, this marble tablet will cost you expenses."
"Very well then." the man pulled out a sachel and openned it, revealing that the bag was full of bright golden coins and clinged when they hit eachother. "I'm sure this will cover it?"
"Agreed." the rogue was glad that his mission was over and he had accomplished his task as he took the bag of coins from the man, "It was nice doing business with you, sir."
As the man exited the hovel, he turned around and asked the rogue one last thing.
"By the way, just out of curiosity, what is your name?" the old man asked.
"I do not distribute my real name, but I go by as 'Baron Mardus'." replied the rogue.
The name struck the old man and sounded familiar, but he didn't pay any attention to it and went on with his business and made his way to exit the hovel. On his way out, the old man said "Good bye, Mardus." in a calm voice.
"Farewell, sir." replied Baron Mardus, "And nice doing business with you."
"Like-wise." The old man said as he shut the old door.
Baron Mardus fondled the leather pouch of coins and set it upon his wooden stool and took a nap on his bed. Hours later, he awoke from his slumber to the sound of knocking at his door that echoed in his little hovel. Mardus sat up and asked "Who is it?" while rubbing his eyes with laziness. The door openned slowly and a face popped into the room.
"May I come in?" requested the voice. Mardus beckoned it and the person at the door entered. It was the old man from before. This time he had a dark cowl and held a lit lantern.
"I hope I am not interrupting you at all Mardus," the man told Mardus as he pulled down his dark grey cowl, "but I have... business with you." Baron Mardus grunted at the statement.
"You're not asking for a refund, are you?" Mardus asked ruefully.
"Oh no, no, sir!" replied the man quickly with a smile, "I've got another task for you that I'd like you to accomplish for me... that is, if you are up for the challenge?"
"Will there be pay?" Mardus asked.
"Oh yes sir, you will be repaid handsomely. That simple pouch of shillings is just one third of what I'll be handing you after you complete this task." The old man presented to the rogue, "So what do you say? Do you accept?"
"First, I'd like you to elaborate more on what exactly you'd like me to do for you. I'm not really in the type of position to assassinate the King of England for a ton of shillings." Mardus said.
"Ah yes of course, well first off... I will not have you kill the King of England," joked the old man, "but my task will require an act of assassination in it."
"And?" Mardus pressed on, "whom is it that you wish me kill?"
"This type of situation should not be spoken of in this hovel. People can hear us." The old man said quietly, "We should carry on about this elsewhere."
"Stop being paranoid and tell me who?!" Mardus asked angrily, "We're in the middle of one of the least populated villages! Get on with it or else I shall decline."
"Very well then," continued the man, "you will need to sneak into Camelot, the castle of King Arthur. Afterwards, you'll have to find and kill one of England's cavalary commanders, Sergeant Hamilton."
"Sergeant Hamilton? I've never heard of him."
"That's what makes him such a threat, he works quietly and however very efficiently for England. He is the true cause of most of the pillaging against Scottland and some of the villages in Ireland." Informed the old man.
"I can do that. But may I ask why is it that you wish to kill this 'Sergeant Hamilton'?"
"You may not. If you will, I'd rather leave this to be a professional assignment, no personal problems or background involved." The old man said, confident that Mardus would comply.
"Understood, sir." Mardus said as he got up, "And I shall set off on this quest to assassinate this commander and better return with a good reward. It's no picnic to even attempt to kill someone, to actually take a life. Especially with all the security he'll be protected by." Mardus said, realizing how dangerous and difficult it will actually be to do this.
"That is why I leave this job to you, a person whom I know is eligible of commiting such a thing, successfully too!" complimented the old man. The old man began to take his leave and turned around at the door and said "I brought you a steed to help you reach Camelot faster. It will take days to reach it on foot. You should leave at noon if you want to get a good head start on reaching the castle around night fall." The old man left quickly, trying to avoid other questions and to get on with his own business.
The next day, Mardus woke up at dawn and quickly equipped his gear before he left his hovel. And just like the old man said, there was a broad steed with a brown mane that gleamed in the sunlight that shyly beamed out of the spaces in the dark grey clouds that shown a sign of oncoming storms. Mardus mounted on his new horse and began to ride on toward Camelot.
Chapter Three
The horse galloped through the short green grass and weeds. Wind blew in bursts into Mardus's face from the horse's movement speed. The wind got colder and colder as the hours passed and the dark grey clouds hovered closer and closer over the grassy plains.
"Looks like we should quicken the pace before it rains." Mardus said while squinting into the sun beams that peeked through the gaps in the clouds.
He kicked his heels back into his horse's sides and the horse galloped faster and faster, and rain finally began to fall as a drizzle. And as the sky grew darker, hiding the sun, the rain fell faster and stronger as a dense dark fog began to form on the horizon.
Just before the fog got too dense, Mardus could spot the waving white and red flags atop of a tower. It was Camelot Castle, the castle of King Arthur and home to the knights of the round table.
"Bloody hell!" Mardus exclaimed, "We've made it!"
Finally, they've reached the gates of Camelot. He stood a few feet away from the gate and heard a guard mounted on the walls shouting out to him.
"Halt! Who goes there?" Asked the guard as he leaned over the wall to get a better look at the man below, "And what is your business here at Camelot Castle?"
Mardus had to think of a new name and reason before he resonded, he doesn't want to risk his profile in the face of danger.
"Go on! What say you?" Asked again, the guard.
"I am a merchant, Sir!" replied Mardus, "And my name is Wallace. I come to spend the night at an inn and seek business."
"Well if you are a merchant, where are your wares?" The guard asked.
"I've not much to sell but a few woolen bags." Replied Mardus quickly.
"Very well then..." The guard turned around and shouted out to the other guards, "Open the gates!" The great wooden gates openned slowly and creaked loudly. Once the gates had finally been openned completely, Mardus entered Camelot. The wandered around the streets, trying to find a tavern to rest in for a while. As he looked for the tavern, he saw a patrol of knights mounted on horses clad heavily in plate mail.
With the knights, a well aged man probably around his late thirties or early fourties judging by his wrinkled face and bald head, rode ahead of the knights. The man wore bright steel armor that was decorated in art of gryphons and lions. A red cape hung behind him and he wielded a great longsword tarnished in blood. He starred Mardus in the eyes.
"This is the man..." Mardus thought to himself as he rode passed the heavily armored soldier. Mardus tried not to look behind himself once he passed the men to avoid suspicion.
Then finally, Mardus had spotted the tavern he was looking for. 'Ye Olde Yale' read the sign above it, which hung from the front of the tavern, just above the entrance of the tavern and to the right a bit. The sign swung back and forth in the wind while the chains that bound the sign to the pole which held it intact to the tavern rattled and clanked against the wind and the wooden sign.
Mardus rode his horse to the tavern, unmounted and bound the horse with rope to a pole stuck into the ground. He then openned the tavern door and lights from inside shone brightly out the open doorway. Music was being played in the corner of the room by a hunched over man with a dirty brown apron. Men and women danced around him, while others sat at their tables with friends playing cards and either arguing and whining about the other players cheating or laughing about a humorous story of their life they told or had been told. There sat a bartender at the bar, cleaning out various mugs with the same cloth and rinsing them out with water.
Mardus stepped into the room and closed the door, but with the force of the howling wind outside, the door slammed loudly, drawing all attention in the room towards him. The music paused for a moment as Mardus looked around the room. Then the music began to play again. A man got up from his seat and began to confront Mardus.
"'Ey, you!" The man said as he stumbled and zig-zagged toward Mardus. The man was clearly intoxicated, "Who be ye and what are ye business in here?"
"That is of none of your business, fellow peasant." Mardus replied.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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Clad In Shadows:
Chapter One
He moved swiftly through the shadows of each column in the corridor. Draped in black cloth covered with leather patches, the rogue was soundless and swift. Each time the guard looked away, the rogue sneakily crept to the next shadow that he could hide in. Each time he made it to a dark shadow to hide in, he felt a brisk breeze blow through his face as he grasped ahold his curved dagger's hilt, to be ready for any quick ambushes he may not see coming from around the columns he hid behind in the corridor.
The rogue kept doing this same technique to get passed each guard unnoticed. Eventually, the rogue successfully got to the end of the corridor and quietly crept around the corner and slowly opened a dark wooden door with rusted iron borders on it. He entered the room and shut the door behind him, suprisingly, not making a single sound but a click that was no louder than a whisper.
The room was full of old, useless, junk; a beat up iron chest sat in the corner of the room covered in webs and torn papers, in the middle of the room was a small round table with no chairs around it. The only light that entered the room was from the cracks in the door and the moon light that gleamed through a stained glass window at the end of the room.
The rogue's footsteps were muffled by the thick red carpet on the floor of the room; he now felt that it was safe to wander around the room freely without any precautions about him. He searched each shelf full of papers and books carefully and studied the titles of each book and skimming the pages inside, as if he were looking for a specific word that would provide him with an answer. But none of the books had what he was looking for, so he finally went to the trashed iron chest and searched it, pulling out any object he found from it and glancing them. Finally the scoundrel found a marble tablet covered in dust that caught his attention. He pulled it out of the iron chest carelessly and blew the dust off of the tablet. It was too dark to see what it had written on it so he put the tablet in the moon light to get a better look at it.
The rogue's eyes gleamed along with the tablet and a grin came across his wrinkled face. Yes, he had found what he was looking for. Just then, he heard heavy footsteps coming from the corridor. The rogue shoved the tablet into a pouch on his waist and climbed out the window. He dropped from the window to the castle walls which was about two yards below the window. As he landed, he heard a commotion from the room he just left.
Almost instantly, he felt adrenaline rush up his spine, his heart pulsing faster than ever now. He looked around him and saw no one, not a single guard that manned the wall either. He glanced at the window and saw a knight clad in armor that shone in the moonlight stick his head out the window and reach out for the rogue with his sword, but he was still out of reach. The rogue's instincts took over and he hopped over the wall which was about five yards high. He fell and harshly cold wind blew upward into his face. But miraculously he landed in a pool of water. The impact felt like an explosion and the impact of the stench of the water was no better. Quickly, he got up, completely drenched in the vile greenish-brown water of the castle's moat and took off toward the northern hills and strove to reach the forest that lay beyond the grassy hills.
Each footstep, his shoes squished loudly. Almost making it to the forest, he stopped and supported his stance as he heaved and panted, desperately trying to breathe normally again. The adrenaline rush had finally left his body and he was much calmer now that he knows that he can get away and successfully. But he heard a loud thundering noise behind him. He spun around and studied the dark hills behind him and spotted three big dark figures coming towards him, and at a fast pace too. He starred at the figures and noticed that the three figures coming towards him were knights mounted on their steeds.
The rogue knew that they'd have a hard time travelling on horses in the dark forest and they'd have a hard time finding him too. It was his only refuge. He sprinted as fast as he could into the pitch-black forest and ran on and on until he finally tumbled down a hill and lay on his back in a shrub. He starred up at the star-filled sky and the sound of the horse's steps stopped and the rogue heard simply nothing but the crickets and whistling sounds from afar. The rogue got up and walked around, seeing nothing but blackness and some areas were gloomy enough to make out what the objects around it were. The knights were clad in armor just like the one who reached out for the rogue; and the rogue knew that spotting a knight wouldn't be hard, for their shimmering pieces of armor practicly announce their where-abouts.
Suddenly, the rogue came up with a grand idea that climbing and hiding in a tree would be the perfect spot to hide until day came again because knights would never make it up a tree in a million years with all the heavy gear they wore. So that is what finally decided to do and climbed up the closest tree he could find and that is where he slept, hoping that he would not be discovered while he was asleep and defenseless.
Day came and the sun rose above the rolling hills. The rogue woke up in the tree unharmed, yet uncomfortable, and looked around below him and saw now track of the three knights that were hunting for him. Immediately he searched his pouch on his waist to check if the marble tablet was there. He patted his pouch and was relieved to know it was still there. He slowly climbed down the tree and began to walk in any direction that'd take him further from the castle.
Hours passed by. And he had still been walking on for what seemed like an eternity. Passing tree after tree, shrub after shrub, he became easily distracted by anything that moved more than a waving tree. His stomach growled at him and ached more an more. He needed to eat soon or else his strength would be lost and his defenses against anything would be mediocre.
Suddenly, he heard leaves and sticks crunching and crackling on the dry grass, he looked around quickly. It was a small deer, alone and hungry. Simply grazing without a care and showing no sign of caution. The starving assassin took advantage of the deer's unawarness and crept upon the deer slowly and as stealthy as he could. His dagger held high above his head stiffly, it shined in the sun light. Finally he was behind the deer, it's the closest he has ever been to a deer in his life, save the dead deers he has eaten in the past.
With his dagger positioned way above his head high, he swiftly dagger down and into the deer's thigh, the blow was so hard, it sunk deeply into the deer's soft skin and tore through the tissue easily. Amazingly, the stab was perfect enough to make the deer's hind leg completely give out. The rogue pulled his dagger out with a couple jerks and the deer kicked back and attempted to escape from the rogue. As fast and as hard as he could, he jammed his dagger into the deer's other hind leg, this time into the deer's knee cap and disabling it's ability to use it's hind legs. Blood gushed out intensely and the deer let our groans of pain.
It was time to end the deer's misery and slit it's throat now that he had the chance. He walked to the deer and slit it's throat from ear to ear. Blood poured out and it spilled onto the green grass and turned it to a dark red color. Finally the deer collapsed onto the rough dry grass and let out one last breath. It was dead. But it's dimise was the rogue's triumph of the day. He let out a roar that echoed through the forest and began to eat the deer raw. He was too hungry to wait and cook it. But it still tasted rich to him. Rich enough to satisfy him and his stomach. It was a job well done and it was time to begin his journey to his home town, Nore Shire.
Chapter Two
After he had finished eating his well earned meal, he started walking North where Nore Shire lied. The walk went on for hours. And pretty soon, the sun began to sink back behind the trees, under the hills and mountains. It was getting late and dark. But the rogue finally climbed up a steep hill and was able to see the end of the forest! The glaring sun triumphed through the leaves of the trees and passed through the trees themselves. The sight was glorious for the tired man and he knew that it'd take just a couple more hours until his journey had came to a halt. There was no stopping now.
He hiked up small steep hills, across narrow, rugged, rocky, rivers and streams, ever so determined to be done with his travel. And then, he made it. He had finally made it to the light that beamed so intently onto him, warming his cool skin. He paused for a moment and closed his eyes as he inhaled with satisfaction. Calm and happy thoughts raced through his mind. His body became relaxed and he pressed on foward north up through the rolling hills of grass. His dagger still gleamed in the sun light, even as it was still drenched in dried blood. It was brown and crusted, pieces of the dried blood would often dissipate when the wind blew and snatched off pieces.
Two and a half hours passed and finally he could see from a distance, a small village. His heart began to beat rapidly and he could wait no longer, he ran towards the village, hill over hill, he did not stop. Without going out of breath, his stamina served him well and got him to the village in less than half an hour. The village was calm and not a local outside. The rogue grinned when he spotted his hovel made of large river stones and his roof of hay. He walked in through a door made of old wet planks. The interior was not much and his hovel had no windows, save the unpatched holes and cracks between each stone placed in the 'walls'.
For a bed, he had a cloth mat that had scattered hay and fur on it. Other than a bed, he had a normal wooden stool, a desk made of a wood, and some shelves carved into his wall where he kept his stolen goods and artifacts. He pulled out the marble tablet from his pouch and carefully placed it on one of his shelves and starred at it for a moment, lost in deep thoughts.
Rays of light reflected off of the marble tablet and shined into the rogue's eyes, he leaned back and shielded his eyes from the light. He was too tired to deal with any of his neighbors and tell them about his new treasure, so he went to bed and slept.
The next day he got up and sat on his little wooden stool, starring at the marble tablet with such determination as he stroked his chin repeadidly. For hours he studied the marble tablet. He tried to read the words that were written on it in a golden ink that glowed in the dark. The rogue suspected that there was something superior in the marble tablet. Something magical. And the more it glowed, the more he was attracted into watching the stone more and more.
But finally after hours of waiting, he heard someone knocking at the door. He quickly answered the door excitedly, hoping it was who he wanted it to be. He swung the door open and a fairly old man wearing a green vest and tan pants with a gut from his belly overhanging his leather belt.
"Good afternoon, sir!" the rogue greeted, "please, come on in." The man entered the hovel and looked around. A facial expression of unsatisfactory came across his face.
"Would you like something to eat?" the rogue held out a pan full of scrambled eggs in front of the man's face.
"No, thank you." declined the man, "if you don't mind, I'd like it for us to get straight to business; I have other things to tend to."
"Sure thing." the rogue walked to his stone shelf and pulled out the marble tablet and let the man hold it. The glowing letters lit up the man's face and revealed a grinning wrinkled face.
"Finally it is mine!" whispered the man to himself.
"Not just yet." the rogue interrupted, "first I expect my pay, this marble tablet will cost you expenses."
"Very well then." the man pulled out a sachel and openned it, revealing that the bag was full of bright golden coins and clinged when they hit eachother. "I'm sure this will cover it?"
"Agreed." the rogue was glad that his mission was over and he had accomplished his task as he took the bag of coins from the man, "It was nice doing business with you, sir."
As the man exited the hovel, he turned around and asked the rogue one last thing.
"By the way, just out of curiosity, what is your name?" the old man asked.
"I do not distribute my real name, but I go by as 'Baron Mardus'." replied the rogue.
The name struck the old man and sounded familiar, but he didn't pay any attention to it and went on with his business and made his way to exit the hovel. On his way out, the old man said "Good bye, Mardus." in a calm voice.
"Farewell, sir." replied Baron Mardus, "And nice doing business with you."
"Like-wise." The old man said as he shut the old door.
Baron Mardus fondled the leather pouch of coins and set it upon his wooden stool and took a nap on his bed. Hours later, he awoke from his slumber to the sound of knocking at his door that echoed in his little hovel. Mardus sat up and asked "Who is it?" while rubbing his eyes with laziness. The door openned slowly and a face popped into the room.
"May I come in?" requested the voice. Mardus beckoned it and the person at the door entered. It was the old man from before. This time he had a dark cowl and held a lit lantern.
"I hope I am not interrupting you at all Mardus," the man told Mardus as he pulled down his dark grey cowl, "but I have... business with you." Baron Mardus grunted at the statement.
"You're not asking for a refund, are you?" Mardus asked ruefully.
"Oh no, no, sir!" replied the man quickly with a smile, "I've got another task for you that I'd like you to accomplish for me... that is, if you are up for the challenge?"
"Will there be pay?" Mardus asked.
"Oh yes sir, you will be repaid handsomely. That simple pouch of shillings is just one third of what I'll be handing you after you complete this task." The old man presented to the rogue, "So what do you say? Do you accept?"
"First, I'd like you to elaborate more on what exactly you'd like me to do for you. I'm not really in the type of position to assassinate the King of England for a ton of shillings." Mardus said.
"Ah yes of course, well first off... I will not have you kill the King of England," joked the old man, "but my task will require an act of assassination in it."
"And?" Mardus pressed on, "whom is it that you wish me kill?"
"This type of situation should not be spoken of in this hovel. People can hear us." The old man said quietly, "We should carry on about this elsewhere."
"Stop being paranoid and tell me who?!" Mardus asked angrily, "We're in the middle of one of the least populated villages! Get on with it or else I shall decline."
"Very well then," continued the man, "you will need to sneak into Camelot, the castle of King Arthur. Afterwards, you'll have to find and kill one of England's cavalary commanders, Sergeant Hamilton."
"Sergeant Hamilton? I've never heard of him."
"That's what makes him such a threat, he works quietly and however very efficiently for England. He is the true cause of most of the pillaging against Scottland and some of the villages in Ireland." Informed the old man.
"I can do that. But may I ask why is it that you wish to kill this 'Sergeant Hamilton'?"
"You may not. If you will, I'd rather leave this to be a professional assignment, no personal problems or background involved." The old man said, confident that Mardus would comply.
"Understood, sir." Mardus said as he got up, "And I shall set off on this quest to assassinate this commander and better return with a good reward. It's no picnic to even attempt to kill someone, to actually take a life. Especially with all the security he'll be protected by." Mardus said, realizing how dangerous and difficult it will actually be to do this.
"That is why I leave this job to you, a person whom I know is eligible of commiting such a thing, successfully too!" complimented the old man. The old man began to take his leave and turned around at the door and said "I brought you a steed to help you reach Camelot faster. It will take days to reach it on foot. You should leave at noon if you want to get a good head start on reaching the castle around night fall." The old man left quickly, trying to avoid other questions and to get on with his own business.
The next day, Mardus woke up at dawn and quickly equipped his gear before he left his hovel. And just like the old man said, there was a broad steed with a brown mane that gleamed in the sunlight that shyly beamed out of the spaces in the dark grey clouds that shown a sign of oncoming storms. Mardus mounted on his new horse and began to ride on toward Camelot.
Chapter Three
The horse galloped through the short green grass and weeds. Wind blew in bursts into Mardus's face from the horse's movement speed. The wind got colder and colder as the hours passed and the dark grey clouds hovered closer and closer over the grassy plains.
"Looks like we should quicken the pace before it rains." Mardus said while squinting into the sun beams that peeked through the gaps in the clouds.
He kicked his heels back into his horse's sides and the horse galloped faster and faster, and rain finally began to fall as a drizzle. And as the sky grew darker, hiding the sun, the rain fell faster and stronger as a dense dark fog began to form on the horizon.
Just before the fog got too dense, Mardus could spot the waving white and red flags atop of a tower. It was Camelot Castle, the castle of King Arthur and home to the knights of the round table.
"Bloody hell!" Mardus exclaimed, "We've made it!"
Finally, they've reached the gates of Camelot. He stood a few feet away from the gate and heard a guard mounted on the walls shouting out to him.
"Halt! Who goes there?" Asked the guard as he leaned over the wall to get a better look at the man below, "And what is your business here at Camelot Castle?"
Mardus had to think of a new name and reason before he resonded, he doesn't want to risk his profile in the face of danger.
"Go on! What say you?" Asked again, the guard.
"I am a merchant, Sir!" replied Mardus, "And my name is Wallace. I come to spend the night at an inn and seek business."
"Well if you are a merchant, where are your wares?" The guard asked.
"I've not much to sell but a few woolen bags." Replied Mardus quickly.
"Very well then..." The guard turned around and shouted out to the other guards, "Open the gates!" The great wooden gates openned slowly and creaked loudly. Once the gates had finally been openned completely, Mardus entered Camelot. The wandered around the streets, trying to find a tavern to rest in for a while. As he looked for the tavern, he saw a patrol of knights mounted on horses clad heavily in plate mail.
With the knights, a well aged man probably around his late thirties or early fourties judging by his wrinkled face and bald head, rode ahead of the knights. The man wore bright steel armor that was decorated in art of gryphons and lions. A red cape hung behind him and he wielded a great longsword tarnished in blood. He starred Mardus in the eyes.
"This is the man..." Mardus thought to himself as he rode passed the heavily armored soldier. Mardus tried not to look behind himself once he passed the men to avoid suspicion.
Then finally, Mardus had spotted the tavern he was looking for. 'Ye Olde Yale' read the sign above it, which hung from the front of the tavern, just above the entrance of the tavern and to the right a bit. The sign swung back and forth in the wind while the chains that bound the sign to the pole which held it intact to the tavern rattled and clanked against the wind and the wooden sign.
Mardus rode his horse to the tavern, unmounted and bound the horse with rope to a pole stuck into the ground. He then openned the tavern door and lights from inside shone brightly out the open doorway. Music was being played in the corner of the room by a hunched over man with a dirty brown apron. Men and women danced around him, while others sat at their tables with friends playing cards and either arguing and whining about the other players cheating or laughing about a humorous story of their life they told or had been told. There sat a bartender at the bar, cleaning out various mugs with the same cloth and rinsing them out with water.
Mardus stepped into the room and closed the door, but with the force of the howling wind outside, the door slammed loudly, drawing all attention in the room towards him. The music paused for a moment as Mardus looked around the room. Then the music began to play again. A man got up from his seat and began to confront Mardus.
"'Ey, you!" The man said as he stumbled and zig-zagged toward Mardus. The man was clearly intoxicated, "Who be ye and what are ye business in here?"
"That is of none of your business, fellow peasant." Mardus replied.
TO BE CONTINUED...
