FEAR
Fear.
The prime emotion
of my younger life.
I lived in perpetual
fear then - of myself, of the Viper, of the world at large.
Now I cause fear.
Though it is my constant companion, I am no longer tormented by it.
It is a favored ally.
Fear brings the
worst out of people. Fear is ugly.
Fear is my tool.
If a man fears
you, he will be paralyzed, both in thought and action. This makes
him slow, and gives you the advantage.
I hate and despise
fear. It may be my best tool, but it is not my best-loved.
I know fear.
Most people live with fear all their lives. They fear pain.
They fear the unknown. They fear losing loved ones. They
fear death.
I never feared
these things. I was forced to live with pain every day of my life.
Each day brought surprises, a few good but most bad, and I never feared
the unknown. I lost all my loved ones early in life, and I had no
more to lose. I was confronted with death and mortality at every
turn, and I did not fear it.
I did fear the
Viper, and that was worse than all the others.
And now I fear
nothing at all.
I am the perfect
killer and that is all that matters.
I am the perfect
killer, and that is all that matters.
- Artemis Entreri
Chapter Sixteen
Meaning of a Word
Athos lay on the hard
mat he called a bed, thinking.
Over the past years,
during the time he had spent training with the Viper, he had felt his humanity
slowly stripped away. His return to civilization had showed him just
how estranged he really was.
But now, he found
himself wondering whether humanity was only a vague concept, an outdated
phrase best left to scholars and philosophers and their dusty tomes.
Man held no real ingrained and instinctive civility, he only liked to believe
he did.
He was beginning to
think that man was a reactive creature only. He knew himself to be
solely reactive.
He had thought there
were people in the world who were different - those that acted upon their
environment instead of reacting to it, and that had given him the hope
that perhaps someday he would find the strength to act upon his own environment.
He considered more
fully on the matter.
When he was younger
his friends had joined the thieves' guild out of reaction to fear.
He had thought Jitinder
independent. But Jitinder was only reacting to something that had
happened to him in his childhood. He had built his life around avenging
the murder of his parents.
He had thought Artemis
free, and had been highly attracted to her because of her independance.
How many times had he sat on this same mat, daring to hope that she was
as attracted to him as he was to her. How many hours had he whiled
away, thinking of her, of some impossible future together with her.
He had even childishly compared his name with hers, thrilled by the similarity.
Yet she had run from
him as if he were a plague. She had reacted with fear and horror;
loathing and revulsion, and the dreams had died in his heart, turning to
ash.
He was no longer certain
there was even such a thing as humanity.
* * *
Asib Ben-Orr, wizard-for-hire,
was pleading for his life.
His right hand was
pinned to the wooden wall behind him by a small crossbow dart, which was
pierced through his wrist. His fingers spasmed uncontrollably, a
trickle of blood making its way down the wall.
His left hand was
engaged in weakly pulling at the crossbow bolt which held him pinned, trying
to get himself free, but it was a half-hearted attempt. He already
knew he was a dead man.
"I see," said the
Viper from where he stood several feet away, "that you are curious as to
why I am killing you."
"Please!" cried Asib,
"I'll give you anything you want-"
The Viper studied
him for a moment, the man's pleas and cries falling on deaf ears.
"You are the mage who opened the gateway to my home." It was not
a question.
At this revelation
the mage burst into sobbing. The Viper had found him, and he was
a dead man.
"You understand, then,
that I must kill you?" asked the Viper.
The mage continued
to sob.
"Tell me that you
understand."
The young wizard was
unable to manage words. Finally, in between sobs, he nodded dumbly.
"It can be quick and
painless," said the Viper, "or it can take a long time. I assume
you prefer a painless death?"
The weeping man managed
another nod.
The Viper smiled.
"Ask for it then. Ask me to kill you. Beg me." He studied
the doomed man's face, noting the expression.
* * *
Zip was sweeping the
floor. It was too early for breakfast and too late for late night
customers, so the tavern room was empty.
He felt a chill
wind breeze in from the open door leading outside, and shivered.
It had been a warm night, so he had left it open earlier, but now it seemed
that the morning was bringing in a cold front with it.
He turned and went
to the door, shutting it.
He hesitated then,
looking at the lock. It was old and rusty; disused. He had
only used it a handful of times since he had first purchased the inn.
He shivered again
and locked the door. The bolt grated and protested, but slid into
place with a little pressure. In light of the truth about Athos,
Zip felt he could not be too careful. To accept such a one into his
inn so readily, to put a viper like that to his breast... He shook his
head and shivered again, a different sort of chill descending on him.
He must be a poor judge of character indeed.
He turned, going back
to his work, this time sweeping behind the bar, sighing as he did so.
He had dropped a glass earlier while straightening up, and tiny shards
dotted the wooden planking. His hand had always been a steady one,
but tonight... well, accidents happened, he supposed, even though they
did not usually happen to him.
Something shiny sitting
in the corner captured his attention, and he bent down to examine it.
It was a ring - a
fairly valuable one, at that. One of the patrons had lost one earlier,
and the description given matched this one.
Zip chuckled, pocketing
it. It looked pretty valuable, and he wasn't certain he would be
able to bring himself to return it. He stood, then jerked back in
surprise.
"Hello Zip," said
Athos from where he stood before the bar. His eyes were sad as he
read the expression on his former friend's face.
Zip took an involuntary
step backwards, his eyes narrowing. Slowly and meaninfully he turned
his back on Athos, retrieving his broom, and went back to work.
"You can ignore me
if you like, Zip," said Athos sadly. "It does wound me, but I can
understand. I have a message. I... I need you to deliver it."
Zip gave no sign of
having heard.
"It's for both Jitinder
and... and Artemis. Tell them.... tell them I will return here in
two days, just at nightfall. Tell them I feel I owe them both an
explanation."
Still Zip continued
his work, not turning.
Athos shook his head
sadly. "Good-bye, Zip."
* * *
"You are the one called
Pook?"
Pook regarded the
beautiful dusky-skinned woman before him, appraising her before replying.
"I am," he said at last.
"I am Nekiset," she
said. "I represent the cult of Set."
Pook pretended ignorance.
"The cult of Set?"
"A religious organization."
"Ah," he said, "I
see. Or rather I don't. What has this to do with me?"
Nekiset took a calming
breath, irritated by the obese man's manner. "We are inquiring about
the one called the Viper."
Pook pursed his lips,
considering. "I know of him."
Nekiset paused, uncertain
how to phrase her request. This could be a disaster if Pook's guild
helt the Viper in high standing. Finally she decided to be bluntly
honest. "Do you know how we may locate him?"
"Why? What business
have you with him?"
"Private business,"
said Nekiset icily, and Pook gave her a knowing look.
"I see," he said,
smiling. They both knew what sort of business the cult of Set had
in mind.
Pook chuckled.
He reached over to the silver tray at his side, and plucked up one of the
sweetmeats there. Placing it on his tongue, he chewed slowly, savoring
the taste. "I have some information," he said at last, "that may
prove helpful in your search, to be sure, but I am afraid I do not share
it freely."
Nekiset nodded.
Here it was, then. "Name your price."
Again Pook chuckled,
this time to himself. These people would be doing him a favor by
eliminating the Viper, and they would pay for the privilege of doing it.
Knowing he could turn
the situation to his best advantage, he began to bargain.
* * *
"I have a second assignment
for you," said the Viper
Athos waited.
"After your display
last time, I think you can go alone. It is a very simple assignment."
"My target?"
Quickly the Viper
outlined all he knew about the man - where he worked, where he lived, where
he was likely to be at any certain time of the day - everything except
who had contracted the man's death, and why.
Athos was sickened
to learn that the man had four children and a wife who depended on him,
and he mand a mental note to avoid killing the man in front of them.
"And why does he deserve
to die?" asked Athos, when the Viper had concluded.
"Because another man
contracted his life. I do not know what his evils are, but he possesses
them, just as every man does."
Athos departed on
his terrible mission. It went smoothly, and Athos accomplished his
task with ease.
He left the body arranged
in a dignified manner, hands crossed over the chest, and closed the staring
eyes.
"Was his last expression
fearful?" asked the Viper after Athos returned.
"No," responded Athos,
glad to be able to disappoint his master. "I took him from behind.
He never knew what struck him."
"Good," said the Viper.
"Desire to see a man's face is no excuse for inefficiency. That is
why the expressions I paint are so valuable. I kill perhaps one in
thirty who realize his fate before it takes him."
Athos said nothing,
hating himself for it.
As he retired to bed
that evening, Athos realized he had not even thought of the possiblity
of not obeying the Viper's commands and letting the man live.
* * *
Tulmara looked up from
her desk. "What is it?" she asked, facing a pale young errand boy.
"Master Arkail..."
the youth stammered. "He was found this morning, ma'am... His head
was, anyway. At the top of the steps to the guildhouse."
Tulmara fell back
into her chair, mind reeling. "What?" Arkail was dead?
"Yes ma'am," said
the youth, and stood there uncomfortably in the resulting silence.
"Only his head, you
said?" she managed after a time.
"Yes ma'am," he said.
"There was a note attached to it... in a manner of speaking."
"A note?" She
suddenly quivered with rage. "Bring me this note!"
The youth bowed awkwardly,
and started to back away. "Ah, ma'am? The note is... attached
to the head in such a way that we cannot..." he gulped. "We cannot
separate it, ma'am."
"Bring it!" she cried.
He bowed and hastily
retreated.
Tulmara paced the
room in shock. Arkail was dead. Was the Viper unstoppable?
A moment later the
youth returned, bearing Arkail's head on a silver tray. He placed
his grisly burden on her desk.
Steeling herself,
Tulmara approached and forced herself to look.
The message was scrawled
bloodily into Arkail's forehead.
"'Arkail returns to
Zazesspur, head held high'" she read aloud.
"There was candy on
the tray when we found it, ma'am, but we removed it."
Tulmara glanced up
at the youth. "Leave me," she said in a broken voice. "Leave
me!"
Again the boy made
a quick bow and beat a hasty retreat, stammering an apology.
Tulmara didn't hear
him. She was looking at something imprinted into Arkail's forehead
- a symbol.
A symbol of the cult
of Set.
* * *
"I want to know something."
The Viper was never
surprised, but he regarded Athos with interest. Athos had never before
come to him for any reason. "Ask, then, and I will decide whether
or not to answer."
Athos cleared his
throat. "You are continually reminding me that I never knew my true
father - that... that Marinbow, the man I knew, is not my birth father."
The Viper regarded
him a moment before responding. "Yes. Your true heritage is
of somewhat more... noble stock."
"Who were they?"
The Viper shook his
head dismissively. "No-one of any importance now. Suffice it
to say that your mother was a chambermaid and that you are a bastard."
Athos waited.
"You will tell me nothing more?"
"Not yet. The
time is not yet correct."
"When will the time
be correct?"
"After all your training
is complete."
Athos was frustrated.
"I see," he said. He paused a moment, but did not turn to go.
"Am I correct in assuming you trained me as an apprentice because of my
heritage?"
"I haven't finished
training you yet."
Athos ignored the
correction. "You said that you didn't train apprentices, but you
trained me. Not because of my talent alone, either. You aren't
an old man, and I doubt if you would want a successor, so that can't be
it. It's because of my heritage, isn't it?"
"It is."
"This is all some
sort of game for you, isn't it? Taking me on as an apprentice was
just another move towards winning some twisted game, isn't it?"
The Viper shrugged.
"All of life is a game. The sooner you realize that truth, the better
you will play it."
Athos shook his head.
"If life is a game, I do not understand it."
"That is why I am
still training you."
Athos nodded, frustrated
with the Viper's lack of answers, and started to turn away. He stopped
himself, and faced the Viper again. "One more thing."
"Yes?"
"You laughed when
Drake said he was an Entreri. Why?"
"The reason lies in
the meaning of the word."
"What does it mean?"
The Viper considered,
as if the answer was difficult to phrase. "It means," he said at
last, "ultimate assassin."
"Ultimate assassin?"
"Yes. I laughed
because he was hardly worthy of the title. It's an ancient word,
and I doubt he understood fully what it meant."
Athos regarded the
Viper.
Entreri.
If it meant ultimate
assassin, then there was only one Entreri in existance. That much
Athos was certain of.