The Assassins of Tamurin Read Online Free PDF Page A

impressed into the Despot’s army.
    And beyond those two places lay the great world and all its countries. I knew a little about that world, knowledge I had gleaned from the half-comprehended tales carried by the infrequent wanderers who found their way to Riversong. I knew that the villagers and I were of the race called the Durdana, and that our empire of Durdane had once been great but was now broken and cast down. I knew that there had been no Emperor of Durdane for a hundred years—only the Despots, who governed a dozen petty states in the soudi of our ancient realm, and the Sun Lord of Bethiya, who watched over his larger domain in the north. I knew also that our ruin had come at the hands of the people we called the Exiles, and that they still ruled half the lands of the old empire—the Six Kingdoms—and that neither Despot nor Sun Lord had the power to drive them out.
    But I had no clear understanding then of how vast my world really was. Our empire had once stretched fifteen hundred miles from east to west and a thousand from south to north, and beyond those borders lay other places and peoples yet: the wintry northern chiefdoms of the Daisa and the Huazin; the archipelagoes of the Chechesh, the Khalaka, and the Yellow Smoke Islanders in the western ocean; the Country of Circular Paths, the Bone Tree Kingdom, and Narappa-lo on that ocean’s far shores; and in the east, the brooding and barbarous realm of Abaris. And there were others beyond these, but so far away that they were more like rumors than real places and had no names.
    If I’d known more than I did, I might have been daunted at the prospect of leaving. But in my innocence, I felt that the whole world was mine to discover, if I were daring enough to seize my opportunities with determined hands. My fortune, I told myself, lay in rich foreign places, not here in this wretched village where the road ended.
    Excitement flooded me at the prospect. Why had I ever imagined I had to stay in Riversong until I died? My Negation was a blessing in disguise. I’d never have thought of leaving my old life, unless this punishment had befallen me. Losing those needles was perhaps the luckiest thing I’d ever done.
    So tomorrow moming I’d leave. No, not tomorrow moming— Suppose something happened to change my mind? I’d go today, this aftemoon.
    But I had to be practical, so I thought about what I’d need. Two days’ worth of provisions would sustain me as far as Gladewater, but I should make it three to be on the safe side. I had my cloak and my smock, and I could take a length of cane to serve as a walking stick and a sort of weapon. As for footwear, I didn’t need any; I’d gone without it all my life, and my soles were tough as boar’s hide. All I had to do, then, was get my hands on three days’ worth of food. Smoked fish and breadnut meal would be the best choice; I could wrap them in the broad leaves of the butterfly acacia to keep them dry and carry them in a fold of my cloak.
    I got up off the stone and walked along the lane until I stood in front of the Stock House. The sky was clearing, and small ribbons of warm blue showed through rents in the cloud. The rapids growled softly from the Wing, like the rumble of distant drums.
    I drew a deep breath and shouted, “Pay attention to me! I know you can hear me, even if you pretend you can’t. I’m going to do something now. When I tell you what it is, you’ll want me to do it.”
    I paused. All Riversong seemed to be a huge listening ear. “I'm going to take some fish and bread from some of you. I know I’m not supposed to, and I know you can beat me for it, but I want you to let me take enough for three days. Because then I’m leaving. Forever. You give me three days’ food now, and you’ll never have to feed me again. I won’t come back. I swear that on the name of the Water Lord, who preserved my life. If I do come back, you can kill me.” Another pause. Riversong still listened.