The Assassin's Tale Read Online Free PDF Page A

diversion. 
    Jager straightened up and turned, and the moment passed. 
    “Were you planning on pushing me into the fire?” he asked. 
    “Certainly not,” said Mara, holding out her goblet.
    Jager grinned and refilled it. 
     
    ###
     
    A week later, Mara stood in the Matriarch’s solar again. This time Cassius stood at the left of the Matriarch’s chair, scowling at her. 
    “It has been over three weeks, my child,” said the Matriarch. “And the Master Thief of Cintarra yet lives.”
    “I know, Matriarch,” said Mara. 
    “Do you mock me, child?” said the Matriarch, a note of anger entering that alien voice. 
    “Of course not, Matriarch,” said Mara. “I would never…”
    “Do not presume to question the Matriarch,” rumbled Cassius, his black eyes digging into her. “She has brought us the word of Mhor. You dare to question her?”
    “I would never question her,” said Mara. “Nor go against her wishes.”
    “Of course not,” said the Matriarch. “Your devotion does you credit, Cassius.” The Red Brother beamed at the praise and bowed. “And I am sure our Mara would never go against my will. Yet it is my will that the Master Thief of Cintarra perishes. And he still lives.”
    “I will kill him, soon,” said Mara. She would find a way. She would force herself to do it. She had killed at the Matriarch’s command before.
    But this time…
    “Yes,” said the Matriarch. “Soon.”
     
    ###
     
    A month after that, Jager finally told her what had happened to his father. 
    “He was the seneschal of a knight of Caerdracon,” said Jager, his voice quiet. They stood on the balcony at the rear of his domus, looking at the light of the moons glinting off the water of the River Cintarra. “Our family served that knight’s family for centuries, since before the wars with the Frostborn and the urdmordar, before the Two Orders were even founded. My father was the knight’s seneschal, and…I wanted to be him when I grew up. To be the perfect halfling servant, just as he was.”
    “And then he died,” said Mara.
    “Murdered, to be precise,” said Jager, staring into the river. “The knight’s son killed a freeholder. At the trial, the knight convinced my father to take the blame for the good of the noble house. They promised my father they would spare his life. Instead they let him be executed to protect their secret.” 
    “I am sorry,” said Mara. “Truly, I am.” She had seen her mother die of illness and exhaustion, but it would have been worse if she had been betrayed and murdered. Or perhaps the pain would have been the same either way. 
    “So you can see, I think,” said Jager, “why I hold the nobility of Andomhaim in little regard. I started by burning down the knight’s domus and stealing his valuables. I thought I might go to Westhold and become a merchant, but the nobles there were just as corrupt, and I…kept stealing. I was good at it. Very good at it.”
    “I can see that,” said Mara. She waved a hand at the domus. “It paid for all of this.”
    “I wound up with more money than I knew what to do with,” said Jager. “I have caches of it hidden across the realm. Properties and businesses I bought under false names. I could retire and live in comfort for the rest of my days.”
    “Why don’t you stop, then?” said Mara.
    “I don’t know,” said Jager. “I don’t know how to do anything else.”
    “I suppose I do not, either,” said Mara.
    They stood together in silence for a moment.
    “We could leave, you know,” said Jager.
    “Leave what?” said Mara. “The balcony? The weather is quite nice tonight.”
    “Cintarra, I mean,” said Jager. “We could leave the city. Strike out together and start anew, far from the Red Family.”
    “What would you do then?” said Mara. “Keep stealing?”
    “Probably,” said Jager. “But I would pretend to be a merchant. Maybe I would actually become a merchant. I’ve been making more money from my