Assassin's Rise Read Online Free PDF Page A

Roland.
    He drank in her face,
for the first time noticing how a small dimple formed on the left
side of her mouth when she smiled, how she had seven freckles on
the bridge of her nose.
    “Is something
wrong?”
    Roland shook his head.
“No, nothing wrong. Good luck with your uncle’s shop and see you
soon.”
    “And you,” she called
as she walked back in the direction of the harbour.
    Roland wrenched his
eyes away from her disappearing figure and faced the academia. He
climbed the marble steps, a cotton sack holding his letter of
invitation and a set of spare clothes slung over his shoulder, a
leather satchel filled with herbs hanging from his hip.

Chapter
3
     
    R oland rested his head against the
door. The wood was lightly oiled and warm from the midday sun. It
was pleasing to the touch.
    He braced himself. Once
he opened this door, his new life would begin. He felt small in
comparison.
    He pushed the door
open.
    The entrance hall was
long and spacious with large windows that welcomed sunlight to
stream inside. At the end of the room, directly in front of him,
was a long wooden counter with a hallway on either side of it
leading further back into the building. Next to each hallway was a
set of stairs leading up to a second floor. Lanterns in gleaming
bronze brackets lined the walls. Ebony tiles decorated the floor
and on one side of the room was a large, potted plant. Painted
portraits of various men with serious eyes hung on the wall behind
the wooden counter. Not a speck of dust marred the otherwise
gleaming room.
    Roland looked down at
his trousers. There was a tear on his left knee.
    A throat was cleared
and Roland looked up. Before him stood a young man with thin, blond
hair, his eyebrows arched as he studied Roland. Slightly behind him
stood another man, his arms folded across his chest. Both men wore
robes of dark blue, a black cord tied around their waists. Roland
wondered why neither said anything. He did not particularly like
the way Baby-hair was staring at him, but he was the stranger after
all, so it would only be polite to speak first.
    “Is there a problem?”
he asked.
    The two men looked
positively shocked.
    “I will forgive you for
not addressing me as Lord – only once. Now step to the side, you
are blocking the way,” said Baby-hair.
    Roland looked around
him. He was standing in the middle of the room. He could feel his
temper rising and he forced it down. It would not do to cause
trouble at the academia. “What are you two doing here?” he asked,
trying to keep his voice friendly.
    Baby-hair visibly
suppressed a shudder. “This is a place of learning, a house for
gaining knowledge. It is for those of noble blood who desires to
better themselves. Your type is not welcome at –”
    “Shut your mouth,” said
Roland, his voice cold, forgetting to keep his temper. He did not
know how things were done in Darma, but he won’t stand for
Baby-hair stepping on him from day one. “And stop with the
theatrics. You can walk around me if you have to.”
    “How dare you!”
screamed Baby-hair, purple faced. The man standing behind Baby-hair
dropped his arms to his sides and stared at Roland
open-mouthed.
    “I am Lord Hellson!
Lord Hellson! How dare you speak to me in such a manner?”
    “And I am Lord Roland
and have here an invitational letter to Academia Amlor!” roared
Roland. “Now unless I’m in the wrong place, and I don’t believe I
am, you had better keep your mouth shut.”
    Roland had no idea
where the confidence (or the half-truths) came from. Maybe it was
the faith Pelron had in him; maybe it was surviving the storm,
meeting with Carla and treating Jase, or maybe he was just shocked
by the unknown of Darma, but all he knew for sure was that
Baby-hair had better not stand in his way.
    “Now will you kindly
move out of the way, as is befitting of your station, and let me
through.” Roland smiled, but his eyes remained icy.
    “That is enough,
gentlemen,” called a voice from