pitcher from the main house as well.
Athena was surprised at how much he ate. It took until Late Bailem the following Peak before George was able to get on the road. He said goodbye to his beautiful wife and made sure Maldwin understood he was leaving.
In parting, George had one last comment for the rat: “Everything is A-okay, man.”
The Next Peak
Just After Late Bailem
Double D had made his way into the city of Brandor just after the height of the Peak, and it took until Late Bailem to reach the arena. As he approached, the number of guards walking the streets increased.
It had taken quite a while to get to where he now stood. As he looked up at the top of the arena, the crowd was cheering. Once the massive torches lining its circumference were lit, the final fight of the evening would be announced.
The assassin knew the perfect moment to kill the General Absolute. He had learned from previous trips to this city that the general always fought the tournament’s winner on the ninth Peak. He would take that opportunity to dispose of Justin, but until then, he would scout the castle for the best moment and place to slaughter the prince. He wanted to make a statement, and the king’s son deserved to pass in front of as many beings as possible.
This assassination would not be an ordinary killing. This murder needed to be horrific, disgusting enough that every kingdom on the entirety of Grayham would talk about it forever. He wanted word to spread and for tales to be told about how sadistic the slaying of the prince was. This event needed to be legendary. This killing had to be his ultimate statement of artistry.
Double D was unable to find a place to stay. All the inns were booked for the tournament. To avoid further inquiries, since he wanted to speak to as few people as possible, he scouted the area until he found an old man who had left the tournament by himself. He watched from a distance, careful not to step into the light cast by the scattered torches throughout the city and followed the man to his home.
After ensuring the man was not going to be joined by other company, Double D opened his pack to retrieve his mask. After pulling it over his eyes, he vanished beneath a veil of magic and walked up the steps to the front door. He opened it, stepped quietly inside and carefully pushed the wooden door closed.
Double D could hear the man in his bedroom. The older gentleman was singing as he prepared to get into his bathing tub. The assassin ignored the man’s jovial song and moved through the rest of the home, looking into five bedroom chambers that had not been opened for nearly a season.
Nothing was out of place, the beds were made, and a layer of dust was on the night stands that stood next to them. This was the home of an unwed man. Even the bathing room meant for the woman of the house had nothing in it. This sad, old man was perfect, and from the look of things, no one would be coming to visit any moment soon.
Double D’s expression turned dark as the assassin waited for the old man to fall asleep before he made his move. Without a sound, he put his pack on the floor and shut the door to the room behind him. He walked toward the bed, stalking it like a cat, focused to ensure his breathing remained normal. He had done this so often that it was second nature.
He reached down and pulled the covers back to get a better look. He now had his target in sight. He reached forward with both hands, but he had to pull them back to stop himself from sneezing—a close call. Once again, he reached forward and concentrated on his target. During this series of moments, there would be no interruptions, and he would finish the job.
He snatched and squeezed. There would be no struggle. His victim was not strong enough. Double D relaxed his grip on the pillow he had grabbed off the bed and then fluffed it up. He quietly crawled beneath the covers and drifted off to sleep with the old man sleeping in his own room three doors down. The assassin had much to do the following Peak and wanted to be up and gone before the old man woke up.