I had been raised from birth by an evil man who ran a guild of assassins. As he had grown older, his clients and killers had all deserted him, until I was the only one still left in his employ. Although I'd spent my entire life working for him, somehow my mind had never been touched by his evil. I'd managed never to kill or be twisted. I was just an errand boy. But I was the only one who had stayed with him as he and his empire crumbled. When he looked at me, he would scowl in disgust, knowing that I would never carry on his legacy.
"Before I become too old to walk or kill, I'm going to settle things with you," he had told me as he handed me a sword. "I'll be waiting in the grove of dead trees by the lakeside cabin. Come tomorrow at noon. I brought you into this world, and I'll take you out of it." Hands shaking, I had taken the sword and run off.
I went to a party being held by some of my ragamuffin friends. One of my close friends saw me with the sword and asked me what was the matter, and I told her I was being forced to fight a duel the following day. She smiled and took me outside to practice.
Paranoia gripped me as I unsheathed the sword. It seemed that anywhere could be the old man or one of his killers. I had never exactly known him for his honor. It would be just like him to hand somebody a sword and say he'd duel them tomorrow at noon, then have an assassin shoot them in the back of the head, somewhere else, the day before.
As I stared at the weapon, I felt sick, imagining cutting him with it. My hands shook. I just couldn't imagine killing another person, let alone the gentle, evil old man who had raised me. I imagined touching the blade to his flesh and watching blood trickle down his neck, him grinning up at my cowardice and stabbing me. I tried to imagine hacking at him, killing him quickly, and I imagined his terror and look of betrayal, I imagined him not quite dying right away, eyes staring at me with his neck half split open.
I dropped the sword and ran.
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I found the field of dead trees. I was hours late. A long raised dirt road ran down to the cabin by the lake. Crackling leaves filled the grove of trees, and they made a loud noise as I crawled down, making my heart leap in my chest and throat. I could see the lake monster raising its beautiful iridescent head in the distance. I quickly looked over my shoulder. He could be hiding somewhere, or watching from afar. I made my way to a corner of the grove, picking up sticks and testing them. All the wood was bad and cracked when I twisted it over my knee. Damnit! If I could only find a branch that was made of solid wood I could at least defend myself. If I couldn't get up the nerve to cut him, perhaps I could find it in me to pummel him into unconsciousness with a heavy stick.
I saw a black man in a long dark leather coat drop down from a distant roadway onto the leaves and my stomach turned. He unsheathed a long elegant sword from his back. If the old man had hired a professional assassin to fight me I would surely die. The black man looked around, searching for something, as I froze and tried to remain unseen.
Suddenly, something burst from the leaves near the black man, wielding a sword and hacking at him. The crazy old man had been lying there, waiting, invisible. He couldn't have been 10 feet from me when I came off the roadway. The two men crossed blades. I could see the skill in the old man's swordplay, the reflection of a much younger student of weapons overlayed with his tired body. But he was too slow. The black man cut him down, and proceeded into the cabin.
Cautiously, I approached the body of the old man. The black man hadn't finished him, and the old man was alive but dying. He stared at me. I wanted to go to him, to comfort him, to tell him I loved him. But I was afraid to get any closer. He could still kill me if I got too close. I should have had the decency to kill him myself. But all I could do was watch him slowly die.
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