Read Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin for Free Online

recall
them.
    Not all died. Some fled into the surrounding
fields and forests. I saw one young man take four children under
the docks with him, to cling in the chill water to the barnacled
pilings until the Raiders left. Others tried to flee and were slain
'as they ran. I saw a woman in a nightgown slip from a house.
Flames were already running up the side of the building. She
carried one child in her arms and another clung to her skirts and
followed her. Even in the darkness, the light from the burning huts
woke burnished highlights in her hair. She glanced about fearfully,
but the long knife she carried in her free hand was up and at the
ready. I caught a glimpse of a small mouth set grimly, eyes
narrowed fiercely. Then, for an instant, I saw that proud profile
limned against firelight. Molly! I gasped. I reached a clawed hand
to her. She lifted a door and shooed the children down into a root
cellar behind the blazing home. She lowered the door silently over
them all. Safe?
    No. They came around the corner, two of them.
One carried an ax. They were walking slowly, swaggering and
laughing aloud. The soot that smeared their faces made their teeth
and the whites of their eyes stand out. One was a woman. She was
very beautiful, laughing as she strode. Fearless. Her hair was
braided back with silver wire. The flames winked red in it. The
Raiders advanced to the door of the root cellar, and the one swung
his ax in a great arcing blow. The ax bit deep into the wood. I
heard the terrified cry of a child. Molly! I shrieked.
    I scrabbled from my bed, but had no strength to
stand. I crawled toward her.
    The door gave way, and the Raiders laughed. One
died laughing as Molly came leaping through the shattered remnants
of the door to put her long knife into his throat. But the
beautiful woman with the shining silver in her hair had a sword.
And as Molly struggled to pull her knife clear of the dying man,
that sword was falling, falling, falling.
    At that instant something gave way in the
burning house with a sharp crack. The structure swayed and then
fell in a shower of sparks and an upburst of roaring flames. A
curtain of fire soared up between me and the root cellar. I could
see nothing through that inferno. Had it fallen across the door of
the root cellar and the Raiders attacking it? I could not see. I
lunged forth, reaching out for Molly.
    But in an instant, all was gone. There was no
burning house, no pillaged town, no violated harbor, no Red-Ships.
Only myself, crouching by the hearth. I had thrust my hand into the
fire and my fingers clutched a coal. The Fool cried out and seized
my wrist to pull my hand from the fire. I shook him off, then
looked at my blistered fingers dully.
    My king, the Fool said woefully. He knelt beside
me, carefully moved the tureen of soup by my knee. He moistened a
napkin in the wine he had poured for my meal, and folded it over my
fingers. I let him. I could not feel the burned skin for the great
wound inside me. His worried eyes stared into mine. I could
scarcely see him. He seemed an insubstantial thing, with the
faltering flames of the fireplace showing in his colorless eyes. A
shadow like all the other shadows that came to torment
me.
    My burned fingers throbbed suddenly. I clutched
them in my other hand. What had I been doing, what had I been
thinking? The Skill had come on me like a fit, and then departed,
leaving me as drained as an empty glass. Weariness flowed in to
fill me, and pain rode it like a horse. I struggled to retain what
I had seen. What woman was that? Is she important?
    Ah. The Fool seemed even wearier, but struggled
to gather himself. A woman at Siltbay? He paused as if racking his
brains. No. I have nothing. It is all a muddle, my king. So hard to
know.
    Molly has no children, I told him. It could not
have been her.
    Molly?
    Her name is Molly? I demanded. My head throbbed.
Anger suddenly possessed me. Why do you torment me like
this?
    My lord, I know of no Molly. Come. Come back