Chapter 10 Meeting in the Dark
Meanwhile, in a prominent building in the merchant city of Dormal, a meeting was about to take place in a secret cellar. Inside, a candle was lit on a table in the far corner of the room. A man was leaning against one of the walls hidden in the shadows. He preferred the darkness for it hid the large scar that marked his face. He took out his dagger and tossed it quietly back and forth between both hands. It was a habit he had developed when he waited. He was a patient man. His craft demanded it. The success of an assassin depended greatly on patience. And Ildraig was a very effective assassin.
He suddenly became aware of the sound of footsteps descending the stone staircase. He’s here, Ildraig thought. He moved silently and hid deeper into the shadows. He held the dagger by the blade as he prepared to hurl it at the man who approached.
A man appeared at the foot of the stairs. The man wore expensive garments. He stopped and looked around.
“I know you are here,” the man in the expensive clothes said. A moment later, there was a thump as something hit the wooden wall behind the man. The man turned to see what it was. It was a dagger embedded into the wooden wall. It had barely missed his cheek.
“I have been waiting here in Dormal for four days now,” Ildraig said as he left the shadows. Dissatisfaction was evident in his voice.
The man in the expensive clothes was still visibly shocked.
“My apologies,” the man in the expensive clothes said, “the information we needed arrived only today from Arkam.” He took out a pouch that appeared somewhat heavy. He handed it to the assassin.
“Here is your gold.” The man said.
Ildraig took the pouch and looked inside. When he was satisfied with the contents, he went back into the shadows. He reappeared carrying a leather bag. He opened the bag and placed the gold beside the blowpipe it contained.
The man took out a small piece of parchment and handed it to Ildraig.
“The name of your last target is written on it,” the man said.
“Where will I find him?” asked Ildraig. “In Hedak,” the man said.
Ildraig slung the bag over his shoulder and began to walk towards the staircase without saying a word. He was already considering the quickest route to Hedak, one where he’d encounter the least number of people along the way. But taking the road through Torinth was still faster than having to go through the open plains. If he hurried, the journey would take less than three days, the assassin thought.