Much later, as he left the room, he whispered to Melissa’s ear. “Tomorrow, you will need to start coming up with new things to dream of.”
Pulling the dagger from his belt, he headed towards Jesh’s quarters. By late morning, he thought, he’d shorten the name of the place to J’s Grotto. As to what kind of place it would be or who would run it, those were thoughts for after he’d cleaned his blade.
The trip down the Evenflow River was not unpleasant except for the constant feeling of not wanting to be on the expedition to steal some gem for Darien. Julivel tried to imagine getting revenge but could think of nothing he could do to Darien. Any attempt to imagine slipping a knife into the man’s ribcage became a vision of pleasantly shaking the man’s hand.
Any thought of jumping off the barge was immediately replaced by the desire to lounge on the deck and take a nap.
He’d brought Melissa along, and she did a decent job of distracting him. It was the first time in years she’d been able to choose her company. He wasn’t paying her, but he also made sure she understood that he was not the type to keep a companion around for long. He expected to leave her on Ollys with enough coin to start a new life.
By the fourth day on the barge, Julivel had relented in his attempts to thwart whatever spell had been placed on him. He wanted control over his own actions again. To achieve that, he accepted that he’d have to get the gem to Darien, and never again look closely at an object at the behest of a stranger.
He spent the days teaching Melissa how to manipulate the nerves of the body. He taught her where to pinch or rub to relax someone, to relieve pain and what not to do if she didn’t want to kill or paralyze a person. She could make a living on Ollys, or wherever she chose to travel once they parted ways, offering a less intimate service. He hoped she understood those last few could also be used to defend herself. They weren’t among his preferred methods. A nerve hold took a bit longer than a knife blade. But, in his profession, it never hurt to have a large repertoire of methods.
In Everton he caught a merchant ship heading to Mansport on the Island of Ollys. The journey would take the better part of three weeks. Julivel bribed the first mate out of his quarters so that he could enjoy most of the journey in privacy. Melissa was not the only woman on the ship, but she was the most distracting. Distracted sailors tended to try stupid things.
Two weeks into the journey, the captain of the merchant ship invited Julivel into his quarters. As one of six passengers on the voyage, the captain had dined with him and the others each night, but this was the first time Julivel had been alone with the captain.
The captain stood by his dining table and offered Julivel a seat across the table. Julivel sat, casually pulling one foot up on his other knee.
“Thank you for accepting my invitation to an audience, Juli,” The captain said. He remained standing, leaving Julivel feeling awkward. It was likely an intentional ploy by the captain.
“Sure,” Julivel said, trying to maintain a casual calm to offset the formal dominant stance of the captain. “What did you need?”
“I have a crewman who says he’s met you and just remembered who you are,” The captain said.
Julivel had a reputation and a price on his head. He didn’t suspect, however, that the captain would be talking to his face if he were after the payout. “I made no effort to conceal my identity. My name alone is unique enough and I know my reputation is widespread.” The price on his head hadn’t changed in twenty years, but his reputation had kept all but two bounty hunters from trying to collect. What he’d done to those two only added to his reputation. “I don’t see how my identity would be problematic.”
Actually he could think of several ways knowing a wanted master assassin was on board could be problematic to the captain. But as much as he was a wanted criminal in more than one country, it seemed no one had a particular interest in trying to collect on the various bounties. Ironically, he hadn’t committed any of the murders he was wanted for. He’d never even been to two of the countries that had bounties posted for him.
“Neville is a bit unnerved at your presence,” The captain said. “He says he’s met you before, that someone hired you to kill him a couple years back over a gambling debt.”
“That is true, but if I were going to kill him, he’d be dead,” Julivel said. “I don’t have any current contracts open, so he’s safe.” Two years back, in Everton, a man who owed Neville a large sum of coin decided to take extreme measures to erase the debt. Julivel accepted the job and, in a way, gave the man what he wanted. The man would never pay his debt to Neville.
“Your guild has a reputation, once you take a contract you promise that someone will die,” The captain said.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Julivel asked. When, after a brief hesitation, the captain nodded, Julivel continued, “What you say is true, when we take a job, someone always dies. What we don’t publicize, for obvious reasons, is that sometimes the person who dies is the one that hired us-if we deem that person to be the only one, of he and the victim, deserving of death.” The only significant caveat of that guild rule was acknowledging that someone became deserving of death when they ordered the death of someone who was undeserving.
“I can see how you’d keep that aspect of your rule a secret,” The captain said. “I guess I now have to keep the secret or risk the wrath of the Assassin’s Guild.”
Julivel didn’t answer. That wasn’t a guild-mandated secret and the guild didn’t order the deaths of people who broke rules they didn’t agree to be subject to. The only people responsible for keeping to guild rules were guild members. To avoid a lie, which was always a good idea, Julivel simply said, “No one on this boat is in any danger from me.”
“I expected you would convince me,” The captain said. “But I need proof I can trust.” The captain walked to the cabin door and opened it to allow a young woman to enter. Julivel recognized the captain’s daughter. “Mischa’s mother was a gypsy queen, a master of fortune telling. Mischa has some of her mother’s gift.”
“This won’t work,” Julivel said. “Prognosticators cannot perceive my future.”
“Mischa will try.” The captain sat his daughter across the table from Julivel.
She placed her hands on the table palms up. “Place your hands in mine,” She said.
“This won’t work,” Julivel said, but put his hands in hers anyway.
She closed her eyes only to open them again and look at Julivel, clearly puzzled. “When were you born?”
“The last day of winter.” Julivel told her his birthday.
“What year?” she asked.
Tired of the nonsense, Julivel answered with the truth, “Next year.” The truth was complicated. “I know how fortune telling works. I also know that no man has a future until after he is born.”
Her hands tightened on his. “Sometimes I only need to read the past of a man to learn his future,” she said. “And you have a most complex past.”
Julivel pried his hands away. Reading his future was one thing, but there were things in his past he didn’t wish to share.
“You speak the truth, there is no danger to anyone on this ship,” Mischa said. “There are so many lies in your life, starting with your name. You are an odd mix of good and evil. I have never seen so much evil in a man. Your past leads to a far greater evil in your future. The truly odd part is that you have a good heart and a kind soul. Mister, you scare me more than any man I have ever met. I can advise you to some degree. You must not allow the demon Darien to possess that gem. He will bring death to many if you keep it from him, but he will bring death to all if you do not.”
When Mischa said demon, it sounded like she was calling the man something more than simply an onerous person. Darien’s being an actual demon meant Julivel had to put more thought into the puzzle.