Read Assassin's Rise for Free Online

beard was peppered with grey,
hanging to his chest. He smelled of spices.
    “Just feel your luck
increasing as you hold it, sir. This is a holy beast from the
desert empire and merely touching it guarantees your luck doubled.
Carry it on your person hence forth, and your luck shall double
each day!” He looked around him furtively before leaning close to
Roland, dropping his voice. “I should not really sell such a
valuable object to just anyone, but I can judge a good man when I
see him. Six silvers and I shall part with this holy relic. It’s
practically giving it away for free.”
    Roland turned the
statue in his hands. He could definitely use some good luck. To
think that such an ugly donkey held so much power! But he only
carried ten silvers, and it had to last for nine days. The merchant
watched him with a practiced eye.
    “If you don’t mind me
saying so, master, I can see a dark cloud of ill intent hanging
around you with this here very eye –“ he opened his remaining eye
as wide as he could, his beard trembling in effort “– and the coin
you spend on Almosaphellon will be just the thing to turn that
cloud into holy, golden luck.”
    Roland sighed and
handed back the statue, wondering if he would come to regret the
decision. “Can you tell me where to find the Seek‘n Find?” he asked
once more.
    “Go down that alley on
the right,” the merchant grunted.
    As Roland walked away,
he heard the merchant cornering a new customer. “This holy beast,
Almakanonason, will guarantee you to live to at least a hundred and
fifty, and that for only nine silvers ...”
    Roland chuckled to
himself. Maybe he had good luck after all.
    *
    The Seek‘n Find had a
merry feel to it. Two young girls with long, braided hair moved
between the tables, serving food and drink. Customers talked loudly
and laughed frequently, foaming mugs of ale washing away their
troubles of the day.
    Roland walked up to the
serving counter. Behind it stood a man with a round, kind face, a
white cloth hanging over his shoulder. As Roland approached, he
wiped the top of the counter and the cloth returned to his
shoulder. “Welcome to the Seek‘n Find. Name’s Alfeer,” he
greeted.
    “I’m looking for the
owner.”
    “The old man at the
back,” he said, pointing to a small table at the rear of the
tavern.
    Roland edged between
the tables, nodding at the people in greeting. The atmosphere
reminded him of the village feast.
    “Pardon me,” said
Roland once he reached the small table. An old man sat hunched over
the table, devouring a plate filled with raw vegetables and a thick
piece of meat.
    “Expect you want to
know my secret,” said the old man and raised his head. He had the
same piercing blue eyes as Altmoor. “You look like a good sort, so
I’ll tell you.” He spread his arms over the table. “It’s what you
see before you, laddie ... it’s Meat. And not those fish and bird
things they fool you into calling meat, but real meat. Red meat.
The thicker the better, the rawer the better. And vegetables. Raw
vegetables. The more vibrant the colour, the better. The secret’s
in the soil, you see. You must take –”
    “Altmoor send me,”
Roland said quickly. It seemed as though the old man would not stop
once he got going.
    “Altmoor? Is that old
coot still alive? It’s about high time I visit the Assassins Guild
and take out a contract on his name. The secret’s in approaching
them from the sewers. Unpleasant, I know, but you won’t find any
better killers. But, with that old coot even an assassin might
fail. You cut his head off, and chances are it will grow back.”
    “Stop acting like a
fool, dad,” said Alfeer, handing him a mug of ale.
    “You might call it
foolish, but stories need spice.” The old man lifted the mug and
drained it. “So what can I do for you, lad?” he asked Roland.
    “I need a room for
eight nights,” he said, looking from the old man to Alfeer. Maybe
he had made a mistake in coming