Until now, Vir thought. No wonder the payment was so low for this contract. He suspected it’d taken the work of several—perhaps several dozen—to scrounge together enough for this contract. He’d never know—commissioners’ identities were a tightly kept secret.
Ravin was scum. That much was obvious. If what Lahar said was true, then Vir would sleep better knowing the world was rid of such a man. The only question was whether Lahar was telling the truth, but Vir had little reason to doubt him. He happened upon him by happenstance, at the very height of when this man stood to lose everything.
“Tell me,” Vir said. “Where can I find this man?”
Lahar’s eyes bulged. “You want to find him! Are you mad?”
Vir’s heart wanted to spill the details of his contract to the man, to tell him that everything would be alright and that his wife and child would be safe.
But the wiser part of him held his lips taut. Lahar seemed like a nice person, but if he blabbed to Ravin hoping to curry favor, it could put Vir’s mission in jeopardy.
Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to remain silent.
“If you don’t pay Ravin’s men tomorrow, how long until he takes your family?”
Lahar shook his head. “Tomorrow night? He is quick to claim what he thinks is rightfully his property.”
If I end up going through with this, that’s my deadline, Vir thought.
Vir retrieved ten coppers from his sack and placed them in Lahar’s hands. “I have some friends. They may help. I promise nothing, but stall Ravin for as long as you can. And hide your family, in case he acts preemptively.”
“I—I shall. Thank you, friend. Who are you? Why would you—”
“Does it matter?”
Vir made up his mind. Helping Lahar was nothing but his own selfishness. Ravin’s men were likely on their way to threaten and extort another poor soul right now. In the end, helping Lahar was but a drop in the bucket.
For most, that was all they could hope to achieve—bandage the wound while it continued to bleed.
But not Vir. Vir was different. He had the means to make a real difference in these peoples’ lives. He could remove the blade and close the wound. Maybe someone else would come to power after Ravin, but if Vir knew the Brotherhood, they would have a plan in place to handle the aftermath.
More than his desire to help those in need, Vir found himself driven by another motive. A selfish one. If he walked away, he would feel bad. How could he sleep at night knowing he’d failed to thwart Fate when he had the power to do so? Would such conduct honor his dead father?
No. There was only one path forward.
“Tell me where I can find this man.”
84MURDERER
Ravin’s compound wasn’t hard to find. And a compound it was, with multiple wood buildings surrounded by a palisade wood fence. Guards manned watchtowers at the corners, and a pair of menacing gate guards prevented anyone from getting in.
Vir jumped up onto a nearby rooftop with Neel to peek into the compound. What he saw impressed him. Unlike the run-down shacks that surrounded it, the handful of three-story buildings inside the fence were well-built, and even sported carvings on its wooden architecture. A small garden occupied one corner, and a stone walkway extended from the entrance to homes and other structures.
Ravin had built himself a small oasis in the cesspool that was the Warrens. Vir might have thought it beautiful, if he were unaware of how Ravin obtained such wealth.
Lahar hadn’t been the only one exploited by the crime lord. Everyone Vir approached had similar stories. Either they knew of friends or family who’d met misfortune by Ravin’s hand, or they themselves had been subjected to his cruelty. Vir couldn’t find a single positive account of the man.
Whatever hesitation lingered in Vir’s heart evaporated after hearing their stories. Removing Ravin from power would be a boon to the Warrens.
A part of him wanted to believe the Brotherhood was on the side of good, but another voice in his head said this was merely a coincidence. Vir didn’t know how far the Brotherhood would go, though he sensed they’d go to great lengths assuming the money was good.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t support the Brotherhood. This was merely a mutually beneficial business relationship, nothing more.
Neel wandered around the nearby rooftops while Vir spent a good hour monitoring the guards. The more he watched, the less impressed with their setup he became. The guards in the towers slacked off most of the time, staring off at the horizon or taking quick naps when they thought they could get away with it.
The gate guards looked equally bored, though they had fewer opportunities to slack than their tower friends. Still, apart from giving mean looks to passersby, Vir didn’t get the feeling that they took their jobs seriously.
Finally, the complete lack of patrols—both inside and outside the compound—shocked Vir. This was a far cry from the castle. Vir had not only infiltrated the castle grounds, but he’d even gotten inside the princess’s room. With the number of holes in their security perimeter, he wouldn’t even need Dance of the Shadow Demon to break in.
Getting to Ravin wouldn’t be the issue. There were only three buildings in the compound, and Vir figured Ravin would call the largest one home. He confirmed that when he spied a bearded man in an ornate jade-and-gold robe strutting around like he owned the place. Guards bowed to him as he passed, and one called out his name, ensuring Vir had the right man. It was what came after that started to frighten him.
Can I really kill him? Vir thought. Sure, he had the Brotherhood’s mandate to kill this person. No one would fault him for doing so, and he’d be improving the lives of many people.
But despite understanding this, Vir’s hands unexpectedly trembled, and nothing he did stopped it.
I need to calm my nerves.
He’d enact the plan tonight, in the dead of night. Not only would Dance of the Shadow Demon function better at night, but Ravin would be fast asleep. He’d sneak in, kill the man while he slept, and slip out. All without anyone knowing he was there. If he was lucky, his men would only find out the next morning, and by that time, Vir would be long gone.
For this mission, he’d chosen a new disguise he’d never used before. A dirty-looking Warren-dweller. With his ragged clothes, and his chakris and chakrams gone for servicing, he fit right in.
Vir descended from the rooftop with Neel back to the alley and searched for the nearest food vendor. Unlike inside the city, there were no taverns here. Rather, vendors cooked and sold food from stalls right on the street. The wealthier ones had mobile stalls, while the cheaper options spread banana leaves on the filthy road and set their food right on top.
Not desiring to contract any fatal diseases, Vir selected one of the cleaner, fancier-looking stalls. He bought a few vegetable kabobs, eating them as he walked. With his mind preoccupied with the upcoming assassination, he scarcely noticed their taste.
This is bad. I need to calm down, Vir thought. But that was easier said than done. The only one who remained oblivious was Neel, who kept stealing glances up at him, expecting food.
Vir found an empty alley spot and retrieved some dried food from his pack, placing them in a small bowl for Neel. He didn’t dare let the bandy lick food up off the ground here.
He petted his faithful companion as he ate. Neel’s mere presence helped keep Vir grounded. The bandy had been at his side through thick and thin.
“You’re such a good boy, Neel,” Vir said, ruffling his fur. The bandy cooed appreciatively, but it was Vir who gained the most from the exchange. His worries just seemed to melt away.