Assassin's Curse Read Online Free PDF

know who you’re talkin’ about,” the old woman answered Jeda’s question, greedily eyeing the coin he held up before her.   “She lives by herself, got no man or anybody except them babies of hers.   Cry all time them babies do, keeps me awake ‘til all hours of the night.   Yeah, I know ‘em.   Room’s on the second floor, in the far back corner.”
    Jeda tossed her the coin and she deftly snatched it out of the air, pocketing it with practiced ease.   The old woman squinted at Jeda.   Why would a beggar care about the woman and her brats?   Where did he get the money he paid her?   There was wrongness about him and she quickly ambled down the road, but unfortunately, the attentiveness that kept her alive in many sticky situations would be her undoing today.  
    Jeda followed her into an alleyway and made short work of her miserable life.   He was a ranked member of the guild of assassins, elite killers with the skills to find and eliminate anyone they were contracted to execute.   Though the guild occasionally left a few purposeful witnesses alive to spread tales of their prowess and bolster their reputation, today’s work would bear no witness.   He left her body to rot in the alleyway with the rest of the garbage, but he did take her money.   He had no real need for it, but took it back from the greedy, old crone as a matter of principle.   When the city watch found her the next day, they would chalk her death up as yet another victim of a senseless robbery gone wrong, all too common in the slums.
    “You should know it’s not healthy to be nosey around here,” Jeda spoke to the old woman’s corpse as he wiped his blade on her tattered shawl.  
    He left the alleyway and made his way to the tenement house opposite his target’s residence to continue his surveillance.   As he neared the front door of the ramshackle building, the familiar feeling of danger crept up his back and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.  
    Interesting , he thought, the hunter is now the hunted.    
    He wondered briefly if the witch had somehow turned the tables on him, but soon dismissed the thought when he realized that he had come to the attention of some local thugs.   He wasn’t all that surprised that they had spotted him.   After all, anyone could dress like a local, but those that lived here would always know better.   Climbing the stairs to the roof, Jeda leaned against the rooftop wall and waited for the gang to confront him.   It took only moments before four toughs came through the door.
    “There he is,” the first one said, looking back at his companions.   “I told you he wouldn’t run very far.   Too bad for him he didn’t.”
    The rest of the gang, scarred and hard-looking men, snickered at the veiled threat.   They quickly spread out in front of Jeda, forming a semi-circle that would prevent his escape.   What they did not realize was they were providing Jeda with easier targets.
    “You ain’t no beggar,” a second tough said, moving into position.   “What do you think you’re doin’ sneaking ‘round our territory?   No one comes in our area without our say-so and you sure didn’t ask any of us.”
    Jeda didn’t reply, but continued to lean against the wall.   None of the toughs saw him flex his wrists, nor did they notice the two throwing knives that had dropped from hidden sheaths into his hands.   They were confident of their superiority in numbers and were more intent on watching whether Jeda would try to run or not.  
    “You’re quite the bastard, aren’t you?” the first thug continued, rolling his shoulder and flexing his muscles.   “You may think you look like one of us, but you never will be.   We spotted you down on the streets real quick and saw what you did to old Martha too, killin’ her for a few coppers.”
    The thug was a large man and was used to intimidating his opponents with his size, but revealing they knew of the old woman’s death