The Viper
Continual motion.
That is what I
recall most about my time under the Viper.
There was never
a break or a letup. I was never given time to catch my breath or
regain my feet. I was kept continually off guard and int a state
of semi-shock.
At the time I thought
it was cold cruelty, but looking back now I am at least more understanding,
if not grateful, that I was pushed to my full potential in such a way.
Now, I am never
off guard.
Now, I am never
shocked.
Because I never
knew what to expect, I learned to expect the unexpected and to assume nothing.
Now, I trust nothing,
least of all fate and the laws of probability.
The Viper forced
this upon me, and I hated him for it for some time before realizing the
gift for what it truly was.
The Viper still
amazes and confuses me. His methods of teaching were superb, and
I learned the lessons well.
The Viper was brutal
without being cruel. Strict but impersonal.
Impersonality.
The key to the perfect killer's existence.
The Viper was to
me the perfect killer - the only true assassin in a world of imitations.
The Viper was,
and still is in many ways, a mystery to me.
I knew from the
start that he was anything but human, but I still have no idea exactly
what he was.
A machine?
Perhaps.
Insane?
Quite possibly.
A man without a
soul?
Most definitely.
- Artemis Entreri
Chapter Seven
The Cult of Set
When he had first arrived
here, Athos had lain awake night after night, weeping.
Nearly six years had
passed since then, and he had no more tears to cry.
He still lay awake
night after night, but he had long ago forgotten how to weep.
Now his eyes stayed
open, as visions of the Viper's death danced before his eyes. Would
he scream as Athos' dagger ripped up through his spine? What would
be the message in his eyes as Athos cut his throat?
One thing that never
seemed to fade was the pain. Each night he lay scrunched up into
a ball, his bruised muscles groaning inwardly with pain. He never
cried out.
Life no longer held
meaning for him. It had long ago faded into a series of lessons and
blows. He hadn't seen another person, besides the Viper, for all
the time he had been here. He wondered what he would do if he did
suddenly meet someone else.
He hated the silence,
but was afraid to break it.
* * *
The caravan wound its
way slowly forward.
Nekiset, High Priestess
of Set, whipped the slaves bearing her litter mercilessly until they
pulled up beside the wagon of Hodkamset. She was a very beautiful
woman, dark skinned and well-formed. Her head was shaven in honor
of her priesthood, and she wore dark robes of rich quality, befitting her
station.
Hodkamset, Lord of
Set, was the most powerful of the wizards in the service of Set.
More than that, he was touched by the hand of Set, and imbued with holy
powers. He was the leader of the Cult of Set, and the spokesman of
that god. His appearance changed according to his whims, as he was
an expert in magical disguises. Lately he had taken to using his
true appearance, that of a middle aged man with silvery hair that suggested
age, but a clean-shaven face that was young and unwrinkled.
He was, as usual,
within the wagon's luxurious interior.
Nekiset stepped out
of her litter, still in motion, onto the back of a slave and into the wagon
of Hodkamset.
Hodkamset looked up
from the artifact.
"Why are we proceeding
so slowly?" asked Nekiset.
"Patience, priestess.
The one we seek is hidden from our sight by powerful magics. He is
not even on this plane. It will no doubt take us much longer."
A messenger rode up,
stepped off the horse and into the wagon, and fell to his knees, touching
his forehead to the ground before Hodkamset as he spoke.
"Master, Hamsetis
has arrived in Zazesspur with his minions."
"Good," smiled Hodkamset.
"Now he has only to wait. Our own journey still lies before us.
The road is long, but it will lead to Set's ultimate glory!"
* * *
Athos blocked a flurry
of kicks and punches, and leaped a foot sweep. He launched a counterattack
then, driving the Viper back.
The assassin caught
a kick calmly with one hand, then kicked the other leg out from under Athos.
The boy landed well, his arm taking most of the shock, instantly lashing
out with his free foot and managing to brush the Viper's chin before the
assassin released Athos' foot and leaped backwards.
Athos rolled back
and snapped up, his body arcing through the air as he landed on his feet.
The Viper turned and
pulled a pair of oriental swords from the rack and sprang to the attack.
Athos didn't show
it, but he was surprised. The Viper had never before used a weapon
against him.
He backed off slowly,
giving ground steadily and dodging the singing blades time and time again.
Blows that would have taken his life scythed through the air harmlessly
to the sides and over his head.
Intent on watching
the motion of the blades, Athos was caught by surprise when the assassin's
foot swept upward in a front kick, connecting solidly with Athos' chin
and knocking him backward off of his feet.
As suddenly as it
had started, the attack ceased.
"You are ready to
be trained with weapons."
* * *
Tulmara strode silently
through the halls of the guild training center.
She swept by the regular
training rooms, which were filled with young thieves honing their skills
in such things as picking pockets, opening locks, and climbing walls.
She walked to an apparently
blank wall, a dead end.
Not missing a step,
she reached up and pulled the torchholder on the wall to a certain angle.
The secret door swung
silently open, and Tulmara walked calmly down the steps.
Arkail was at the
bottom, training the eight men whom he had personally selected.
"The Entreri troops
are almost ready."
She smiled.
"The time for their use has not yet come."
* * *
The wall was slick
with grease and smooth as a mirror. It rose forty feet straight up.
"Climb," instructed
the Viper.
Athos placed his hands
on the wall, feeling for tiny cracks to support his weight.
Slowly and painstakingly,
he made his way to the top.
The assassin was there
already.
"Far too slow."
* * *
The darkness was complete.
The targets would have been moved from their last positions - they always
were.
A tiny sound caught
Athos' ear.
He turned, and launched
the first dagger without hesitation. He was rewarded by a rich thunking
sound.
Again he whirled.
This time the noise had come from his right. Again he pinpointed
the location of the sound. He hadn't time to listen for the thunk,
for he caught another tiny sound, this one more like a squeek. Again
he flung a dagger. The next sound was like a human laugh. Again
there was hesitation. A plea for help came next, in the sound of
a female's voice. the dagger was again flung with no hesitation.
The last sound was
unexpected. It was a baby's wail.
Athos hesitated for
an instant, startled, then flung the dagger.
The lantern flared
to life a moment later illuminating the room. Each of the targets
had a dagger buried within their centers. All save one. The
dagger had missed center on that one by a finger's breadth.
The Viper looked at
Athos' handiwork. "Better. You will learn to curb your personal
feelings in the future."
"I was startled,"
protested Athos. "I had not expected to hear that."
"Why? Infants
are a common enough target. I myself have disposed of many a royal
brat still in diapers."
* * *
The tallest of the
poles stood ten feet tall. The lowest stood four feet high.
One pumped up and down through the hissing lava that lay below.
Athos didn't know
whether the lava was real or not, but it gave off heat. He didn't
intend to find out.
"Begin," said the
Viper.
The first pole was
the second tallest, standing eight and one half feet over the lava.
Athos breathed calmly,
finding his sense of balance.
He sprang upwards,
landing lithely on his right foot atop the pole.
The next pole stood
only six feet from the floor, but it stood at a sixty degree angle.
Athos made the long
jump and proceeded to the next pole. This one was a fairly easy one,
as it was only a few feet away. The trick was that it was too far
from the next pole to make the next jump unless Athos used it as a foothold
only for a moment and kept up his momentum.
He continued on to
the last pole, the one that was pumping up and down furiously. He
had been watching its motion and knew it would be at its lowest point when
he landed.
It threw him upward
into a full front flip that shot him onto the final platform.
"Good," said the assassin.
"Now come back."
* * *
Hamsetis, strong arm
of Set, was a short, muscular, and dark-skinned man.
Once he had been a
slave gladiator for the Red Wizards of Thay. He had never lost a
fight, but he had always hated his Thayvian masters. When the priests
of Set had bought him out of slavery, he had sworn allegiance, and soon
proved himself the greatest warrior in their organization. After
a year of studying tactics, he also became their chief general.
He paced the top room
of the house he had rented.
He didn't understand
why Hodkamset and Nekiset couldn't pinpoint the man they were looking for
with the artifact Set had bestowed upon them, but he knew that the distance
between the cult and its quarry was lessening.
Hodkamset had said
they would either encounter him here in Zazesspur or in Calimport.
He gave a good description of the one they were after. Hamsetis was
confident the wait wouldn't be much longer.
A slight tremor shook
the floor beneath him.
He cursed to himself.
The basement wasn't set far enough into the ground to mask the sounds of
the creatures his servants had brought into the city under cover of darkness.
Construction of a subbasement was already underway, but it would be weeks
before it was completed. Until then, he could only hope that those
in neighboring estates wouldn't get too curious.
He smiled to himself
when he thought of what the minions kept below would do to the man they
were looking for.
* * *
Grimwalde was intrigued.
If what he had learned
about this Viper fellow was true, the man was either violently insane or
playing an intelligent game according to rules the mage could not fathom.
He hadn't enough evidence
to make a determination one way or the other.
He had decided to
capture this man, and study him. The mage in Calimport Gimwalde supposedly
served was missing and probably dead, so he didn't need permission.
He was excited.
He would have to proceed slowly and carefully - taking the full measure
of the man he was to face. Trapping this man would be no small affair.
It would take a brilliant plan executed with finesse to absolute perfection,
and not a little luck. The mage's own life would most probably be
forfeit if he made even one mistake.
* * *
Athos followed his
master down the winding stair case.
Lower and lower they
went, far beyond any point Athos had been allowed to see thus far.
Athos was silently counting stairs, although it was, admittedly, getting
difficult. The cold marble steps were each exactly alike. The
marble wall curved smoothly, with no visible change. The only thing
breaking the monotony were the magical balls of light which were placed
at certain intervals along the walls.
Suddenly the steps
ceased, and Athos found himself on a smooth marble floor.
He noticed another
set of steps leading downwards, located off to his right.
A myriad of tunnels
branched off to all sides. Seemingly at random, the Viper chose one
and headed down it, Athos on his heels.
There was a subtle
difference between these halls and the ones further upwards. Athos
could sense that these halls were less tread, and this made them darker
in some unknowable way. There was no life here - no libraries, no
displays. He felt a loneliness here as tangible as living flesh.
Still the Viper led
him forward.
How can he stand
his own life? thought Athos. How does he live it so stoically
and detached?
He banished such thoughts
from his mind quickly. The Viper was not a man; he was a machine.
A perfect killer with no morals. How could such a one be expected
to feel emotions? The notion ran contrary to common sense.
The Viper halted before
a large oaken door beautifully inlaid with picturesque figures which were
hard to make out clearly unless one stared at them for some time.
Elven work, most likely. Such sights were common in the house of
the Viper - art and beauty were seemingly appreciated by the man, even
if life and goodness were not. In a way of reckoning; the Viper
was himself an object of the same properties - a cold and beautiful instrument
of death, such as an adamantite sword or mithril crossbow, possessing some
sort of inner fire or driving force but not truly existing as a feeling
entity.
"You have memorized
the path we just took?"
Athos nodded that
he had.
"Good. Keep
to it in the future. There are worse things than death - and some
of them reside in this level of my home. Some of my toys have a bite;
take care not to stray from the path I have shown you."
Again Athos nodded,
this time in obeisance.
The Viper turned back
to the door. "Watch carefully," he instructed.
He inserted his ring
into a slot in the picture and twisted to the right. With a grating
sound, a handle emerged from the door. Athos immediately ingrained
the placement of the ring into his memory.
The Viper gave him
an identical ring. Athos turned it over in his hands - carved into
its face was an engraving of two fangs dripping poison.
"On the other side,"
instructed the Viper, "you need only touch the ring to the wall, and the
doorway will appear."
Athos had no time
to ask what the Viper meant, for the assassin was already opening the door.
Beyond lay a white
marble wall, which apparently the door had lain flush with when closed.
Athos started to look
up to the Viper in confusion, but the wall began to glow.
Slowly it faded into
a gray mist which tickled Athos' nose for a moment before fading out of
existence altogether.
He had noticed the
fading of the wall only peripherally. It was what was revealed beyond
that caught his attention.
A great city loomed
before him. It was midday, and the scene opened onto a bustling marketplace.
The huge orange orb that was the sun hung over all.
Athos almost leaped
backwards at the sight of it. It was real - he could feel the warmth
of its rays on his face. He hadn't seen the sun for five and a half
years.
He looked down into
the marketplace.
People were everywhere.
A small girl walked in front of the two, apparently not seeing them.
She was close enough to touch, and Athos nearly reached out to do so.
He stopped himself just in time. His master would not have approved.
"Welcome back to the
Prime Material," said the Viper.
Athos' mind spun.
The Prime Material? Did that mean he had spent his long years in
training on another plane? Was it on one of the elemental planes
he stood? Was it one of the outer planes, where the gods themselves
dwelled?
He returned his attention
to the city.
"Has it been so long?"
he muttered aloud, much to the amusement of his mentor. "I don't
even recognize it!"
"This is not Zazesspur,"
said the Viper. "This is Calimport. I maintain a permanent
portal in both cities - Calimport is the more important of the two, but
Zazesspur is... my hobby. I will allow access to both cities in time,
but for now you have access only to the one you are ignorant of."
"Incidentally, virtually
no time has passed here. Time fluctuates in the demiplane I keep
my abode. Right now it very nearly matches that of the Prime, but
usually it flows much more quickly here. You have barely been gone
for twenty-three weeks from Zazesspur."
Again Athos' mind
spun. Twenty-three weeks!
"You have two weeks
leave. The way the time flow runs presently, that gives you just
over eight days. You must fend for yourself during that time - a
feat I'm confident you are more than capable of.
"One final note.
If you try to run, I will track you down and kill you slowly."
Again Athos nodded
his understanding. The thought of running had crossed his mind, but
he had realized immediately the futility of such an action.
"Go now," commanded
the Viper. He watched as the boy stepped through the portal, then
turned away. He had business of his own to attend to.
Athos turned and looked
back after stepping through.
Already the portal
was fading, revealing only the stained bricks of an old and abandoned house's
wall.
He looked around himself.
He had no money, no weapons.
Yet he didn't mind.
He was free - at least for a couple of days.
He fingered the ring
the Viper had given him, then tucked it into his pocket, hiding it away.
He made a mental note to do so each time he was allowed to come here.
He had no idea if anyone would recognize it for what it was, but he didn't
want to take the chance. Besides, he didn't like it, and the thought
of wearing the Viper's symbol sent a shudder racing along his spine.