Even this girl’s fingernails were the same pink as those of her “sisters,” some sort of berry tint or cream. But when she lifted her finger and shook it at me, enraged with the rules I had laid down for all of them, it was like seeing a bonfire next to candles. She glowed with beauty and rage and determination.
“It’s been five days since we’ve bathed, and there’s a whole pond of water out there!” She waved a hand at the leaded glass window that showed a lovely view of a green-blue pond dotted by water lilies and surrounded by reeds. “If you’re worried about someone seeing us, let us go two at a time. We can dress as peasants; I found some clothing in the servants’ quarters that will work. Or we could go at night, three or four at a time. Or at—”
I pressed a hand to the little spitfire’s mouth. “Child, you are testing my patience. There will be no bathing in that pond. And if you keep harassing me, I’ll have you gagged and tied to a beam in the stable.” I leaned in. “You obviously never learned to respect your elders.”
It was a bit of stretch to call me her elder; she was probably sixteen, and I was twenty-five. But I kept my hood as low as possible. I knew my eyes made me look a hundred, when anyone caught a glance at them. And the long, sickle-shaped scar on my face didn’t help matters.
My twenty-five years hadn’t been easy ones.
“You’re as bad as Milian,” she hissed, but her eyes were filled with fear. “We are not yours to abuse. We are not t-toys; we are people! We have rights—”
“Right,” I said, grabbing her arm. I hauled her out the door and down the path to the pond. I knew there was no one to see us; I’d been running patrols constantly, which was probably why I’d snapped. My temper got short when I was sleep-deprived. “You want a bath, your Highness, you’ll get one.”
Her small legs couldn’t keep up with mine as I led her to the pond and out onto a dock. I scooped up a stone or two from the bank as we stepped out onto the short wooden pier. “Can you swim?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Fine then, go ahead.”
Her lower lip jutted out and she started pulling off her clothes. I turned away; even if she was a child, she was old enough for me to show respect in that way. Before she could jump in, I cleared my throat. “You may want to throw in a rock first to scare away the dozens of snakes. Venomous, bloodthirsty snakes. Here, catch.” I tossed one of the rocks over my shoulder.
“Snakes?” She laughed, and the carefree sound wormed its way into my dead heart. “I’ll take my chances.” I heard a loud splash and whirled around.
Shit. I hadn’t thought she’d do it.
Weren’t young girls afraid of snakes?
She crossed the pond with an easy overhand stroke, her golden hair glinting in the morning light. “It’s gorgeous, come in!” Before long, she was at the other bank. The water churned around her, ten or twelve small bumps cresting the surface.
“Come back!” I shouted, though she had already turned and was stroking her way across the pond… just ahead of the cotton-mouthed water snakes that traced a quick zigzagging pattern toward her.
She’d disturbed a whole nest of the damn things.
“Fuck!” There was no time to undress; I dove in fully clothed and raced to her.
I was somewhat immune to many poisons. As an assassin, building up our natural immunity was a vital task. But she was so small and fragile. If she were bit…
Goddess, protect her, I prayed as I swam harder. In seconds, I was there, and had her wrapped in my cloak.
“What are you doing?” she shouted. I felt the snakes striking at my heavy cloak and hoped it would keep them off long enough to get her to shore. A few of them bit through the fabric, one on my leg above my boot for sure, and one on—shit!—my left hand.
If I could get to my remedies, I would be fine. But the weight of my boots and clothes were making it hard to keep my head above water.
“Cotton-mouthed,” I managed to gasp. “Swim.”
Her eyes widened in understanding, and she paddled a few more steps, then vanished under the water. Oh, Goddess, had she been bitten? I didn’t dare to follow her; the snakes had turned their attention to my cloak, and she was safe. I felt fangs sink into my shirt sleeve and break the skin. I’d recover if I got out soon, although that seemed less and less likely.
I was sinking fast.
So this was how the Guild’s youngest Chief Assassin died: drowning in a pond, bitten by snakes because he didn’t take his vow to protect his charge seriously. I deserved this ignominious death. At least the girl was safe, no thanks to my own idiocy.
But then she was back at my side, pulling me toward the shore, a large stick in her hand. She could reach the bottom, and was using the stick to whack the snakes on their heads. Cotton-mouthed snakes were remarkably aggressive, and they rushed her again and again.
She should have been screaming, but she was…
“Are you laughing?” I shouted, enraged. I tore at my clothes as I made my way to shallower water, her close behind me.
“Yeah, it’s like a game, except—” She glanced over, then went back to beating on the snakes. “You need to get undressed. You got bit a lot. If you want to live, you’ll let me put some clay on the bites to draw out the poison, and then I’ll make you a thick paste of feverweed and—”
