The market was lively, loud and crowded with hungry and uproarious Alorians.
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The two stood in the center of the market, just below the bronze statue of A'boye, the ancient warrior King of Aloria, gifted to him by a Sazeen Sultan lost to time.
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Raycene took note of how they stood out, she a Gresani woman and he a Qabaran man, a drop of olive and a drop of pale-sand in the sea of carob and ebony skin that was the market.
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The Alorian sun beat down unforgivingly and the flat, dry heat offered no mercy, streams of warm sweat pooled at the nape of her neck, covered by long raven curls.
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Sights and sounds surrounded them, voices of loud vendors and overconfident merchants, street performers drinking black liquid and spitting forth flame like the dragons of old myth. Children danced and played to the tune of rhythmic music on drums and kora. Her nose was overpowered with the scents of cumin, paprika, and ginger, cooking fish and strange meats from further south than she had ever dared to venture.
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"Twelve thousand silver pieces," he was handsome but spoke with unwarranted confidence.
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Raycene looked out into the market and past the people. Just outside the town, golden wheat washed rolling hills, swaying in the wind, calling for her to run her hands through it. The beauty had taken her for a moment and even though she had heard him she paused before answering.
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Her eyes returned to the bearded man dressed in a lavish kurta with design so intricate that she could only assume the price was in the hundreds. "What?"
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"Yes, twelve thousand," he said.
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" 'Twelve thousand'?" she repeated, openly feigning her surprise.
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"Yes, I imagine that's quite a lot of money for someone of your...upbringing."
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"Twelve thousand is a lot of money, but not the most we have been offered for a contract."
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He cleared his throat and he began to speak again. Raycene looked out into the town once more. The sandstone buildings stood shorter than the housing she remembered in Gresan but built proudly all the same.
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Why is it that beautiful eyes always beget an arrogant soul? Raycene thought, looking back to his face. As he spoke she all but ignored focusing on his large, brown, eys embellished with thick eyebrows and long eyelashes. His nose sported the commonplace, aquiline shape, prominent among the Qabari people.
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"Think of it like this..." as he spoke again his voice was swallowed up by her thoughts.
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Eh, he's too pale, he might as well be a yellow-haired Skan. But he does have strong shoulders...
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His skin was far fairer than any Qabar man she had ever seen. Qabaran people had honey or teak colored skin, but this man was pale. He resembled both enemies to the north and her father would never allow it.
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The sound of his voice, above the crowd, brought her back to their conversation.
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"Your guild is known for quick and clean assassinations and that's something my family requires," he said.
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She knew many eyes would be upon the outsiders, so they spoke in the center of the square where all could see but none could hear. "Perhaps we should speak with a bit more subtlety." The pair simulated normality when townsfolk passed too close, but in hushed whispers spoke of contracts and murderous intentions.
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The Qabar smiled confidently and nodded slowly, trying to keep from looking about. "As I was saying, that is two decently sized warships or one warship and a crew to sail her. That's probably confusing for you, think of it as hundreds of new dresses. I can see this one is rather dingy. And jewelry or brushes for your hair, though I rather like it curly."
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It took nearly every ounce of her strength not to roll her eyes at his passing comments. "Yes, I guess that is a lot of money."
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The best part is that I'm willing to pay upfront because I have faith in your family's...business," he said, waiting for her reply.
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"So if I were to guess I'd say he's some rival lord's son, perhaps suiting a woman that you wish to suit? We get a lot of that."
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He tried to disguise his scoff as a laugh. "Oh, I don't suit women, they come to me, their fathers beg for the honor," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. "And if I were to suit a woman...well actually, it wouldn't be much of a suit, she would be mine, very few would dare resist a prince. Don't ever presume to equate me to something as lowly as a petty noble trying to get his."
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The snort of her laugh caught him off guard and his cheek's turned pink. "I see," she said trying to contain her laughter. "Do you know how many landless noblemen petition us, claiming to be kings and princes of faraway lands?"
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"I am no landless noble, my blood is gold, I am the heir to the throne of Qabar," He said through gritted teeth. "Consider yourself lucky that men of honor do not strike women. Count that luck doubled that I haven't rescinded this contract."
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His face was locked in a scowl and his fists were balled. Raycene's hand found the hilt of her dirk in a visible but subtle gesture. "My apologies prince, we see many that make these claims but clearly you are true."
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A slight commotion caught her eye and she looked out over his shoulder, past the weavers, and through the crowd, a small group of six men watched them from beneath a canopy stall.
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"Your insolen-"
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"You need to quiet yourself, price, we're gathering an audience," she said.
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"They are my men, each of them ready to die for me at a moment's notice," he said.
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Raycene felt a slight nervousness. Extend one hand and arm the other I see.
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"With respect, twelve thousand is not enough for me to kill another prince or a high noble."
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He leaned in towards her uncomfortably close to her face and spoke, "You forget yourself, you are in the presence of a prince, not a merchant, not a noble, you'd be wise to remember that when you speak to me."
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"My apologies, prince."
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With that, he seemed to loosen and stepped back, and she took her hand off the poisoned dagger hidden up her sleeve.
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"He's not a lord or a prince, just some noble's bitch's bastard. It shouldn't be an issue because the offer is for your brothers, or father, not you. And it would be a service to your country, given his crimes."
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She stepped back and took a moment. "Why come to me directly, your highness, why did you not hire their services through my father or our guild master here?" she asked, masking irritation with pleasantry. "My brothers will ask more gold of you, seeing as this is a royal decree and the target is our countryman."
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His eyes widened, "This is not a royal decree," He said, "This is a private matter and must remain as such. I do not have time to search the plains of Aloria for your brothers and it would raise suspicion if I did. This needs to be precise, quiet and clean, your father has an impressive record but he is...loud, to say the least. I would prefer one of your brothers to complete this task."
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"Loud?" She cocked her head to the side in confusion.
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"Yes, people know widely of his work, he is feared greatly but known by many. It's somewhat counterintuitive, considering his line of work."
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"I'm not a candidate? Many will vouch for my record."
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"I know some of what you've done. You are accurate, tidy and but nearly as loud as your father, and I would never entrust a woman with a task of such magnitude as this, especially a loud woman."
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Such magnitude? She thought. For a bastard? A 'prince' of Qabar wants a Gresani bastard dead, why?
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A sly smile crept across his face. "I haven't mentioned the bonus, we will pay more over upon proof of completion, depending on how it's completed of course. bring me his head, I'll pay twice over. Bring him to me alive and I will pay thrice over."
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Is it 'we' or 'I'?
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He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Don't fret, this is not a task for a woman to take on, but there are still many ways you could be useful...I do love hazel eyes. Damn the gods if you aren't the most beautiful woman in the market, have you ever been with a prince?"
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"We'll take your contract, and I'm afraid I can offer nothing more."
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"You are not alone in this offer, I speak to many today as I have spoken with you, and many shall take my offer," he said impatiently.
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She looked to the sky and gently laughed. "Aloria, the land of palm oils, diamonds, and mercenaries."
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"Alive is best. Your guild will be paid if you have to kill him, but alive is best" he said.
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"It shouldn't be difficult the Gresani nobility aren't known for their combat prowess."
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"Tell your brother not to expect the boy to come easily. He will be guarded, likely by Titans, and trained to fight."
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He's Jhyrian?
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"Titans? We've never gone up against them but we like a challenge."
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"Good but, I've seen them in combat, it will be no small task."
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"I'll be sure to let my brothers know."
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"Good; The gold will be delivered to your residence."
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With a deal well struck the pair shook hands and parted ways.
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Night had fallen and the stars lit up the empty deep-blue sky. Dark overtones had taken the town from its previous sunlight. She looked to the beige-red dress she left on the floor, it's black vine patterns nearly invisible in the dark.
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Cool gusts of wind rushed through Raycene's curls and pressed against her studded leathers as she looked down upon the square from the rooftops. The once vibrant market, now nearly empty of life, people and music. It looked different now, spacious even.
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For the rest of that day, from the shadows of the crowd and the cover of the rooftops she had watched and listened, as the prince met with other assassins and mercenaries, eager to take her prize. She tailed him unseen from scorching dry heat to chilling breeze and night's silence.
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Fifteen, she thought, no, sixteen counting myself, and who knows how many men they each command. This bastard is well protected, surely. What is his true worth if an entire kingdom seeks to deploy a private army against him? Someone else would be willing to pay more for him.
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Raycene, silent as a tiger's tread, soared across the rooftops, with the wind whistling past her ears. The breeze was strong, lashes of cool air rode up from behind her. She leaped over gaps, swung across scaffolding and scaled up walls. Nothing had ever made her feel freer than to leap with the wind's guiding hand at her back.
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In time, she reached the roof of her family bureau and knocked four times on the wooden trap door laying flat atop the roof. The door retracted and she dropped inside, landing gently on the stone floor.
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The bureau was small with three full rooms each made of gray sandstone. It was furnished and decorated with large plants, beautiful woven dark rugs. Colorful needleworks hung from the walls, and in the corners were maroon cushions made from beautiful rich fabrics. The room had a single door on the right wall that leads to the conference room of the bureau. Her family retained the Gresani tradition of heraldry, their insignia was embroidered into nearly all the works. It was a simple yet foreboding symbol, a roaring sabercat atop a crag, something few forgot.
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"Gold has arrived, some sixty pounds of it, if I had to guess," her father, Rayceer, said unseen from the conference room to her right.
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Raycene walked into the room to greet him. He stood facing away from her towards the wooden shelves that rested at the back of the room behind a wood partition, holding hundreds of papers and scrolls.
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"Yes father, I took a large contract for some troublesome Khidori horse-lord that has been harassing an Aran temple, stealing the sisters, slaughtering the clerics, you know...the normal," she said.
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He turned to face her; his grey eyes penetrating through her lie, "I see, it is an impressive take Raycene, though it's unusual to see a client pay this much up front," he said, squatting by the fire. His long curls had grown grey in his age, he wore them tied back behind his ears, his beard ran full and gray.
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"I suppose the mother herself wants him dead," she said, shrugging her shoulders.
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The hard-faced man met her eyes. He was unmistakably Gresani. "Is there anything more you wish to tell me?" he asked.
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"No father," she said, "Well actually yes, as you know I need our ship for this; I will bring it and the crew back safely." Raycene sat next to him in front of the warmth of the fire.
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He prodded the flames, "You may take the ship but you must hire your own crew."
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Raycene opened her mouth to object but was beaten to it by the gentle and stern voice of her mother, Bayene, entering the room. "Oh let her have the crew, it will save her time, besides she already knows them personally," Bayene said as her long, salt and pepper hair swayed ever so slightly as she moved.
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Rayceer looked to his wife and his daughter. "You can take half the crew, we still need men here yet."
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"I'm fine with that," Raycene said.
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"Ray...who knows what she could encounter," Bayene said.
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"She needs to strike out on her own, how can she with our ship and crew?"
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Soft firelight danced and flickered on Bayene's pale-beige skin. There was a lingering beauty about her even in her age. "Your father has a point."
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"Okay, I'll take only half."
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"When will you be leaving and how long will you be gone, do you know?" she asked.
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Raycene spoke as assuredly as she could. "If I stay the course as planned I will only be stopping at Viel and maybe going on to Polis for some time, so I would think three months maybe a bit longer depending on how long it takes to find this Jhyrian."
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"Jhyrian?" Rayceer asked. His eyes locked on Raycene.
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She didn't let her panic show as she corrected herself. "Khidori, I meant. I was just thinking of the Titans today is all."
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"The Titans? They haven't been fond of us since your brother took care of that old Jarl one of them was hired to protect."
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"Did Bayeos face the Titan when he killed that Jarl?"
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"He did, and was nearly killed by the one," Rayceer said, "Why, does this 'horse-lord' have a Titan in his company?"
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"No father, I'm just curious about them."
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Bayene gave a sad laugh and gazed up in memory. "I remember when your brother first returned to us after that contract. He was broken, he couldn't even walk for months. We do dangerous work but there is no need to make it more dangerous than it already is. Avoid the Titans, girl. And take heed, Polis is the largest city in all Thacia, and our family has enemies, both known and unknown."
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"I will be cautious as always," Raycene said reassuring her, "I'll set sail in two days, after the harvest festival. I'd like to get this over with quickly and be back in time to help with the harvest itself," she said.
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The fire crackled and dimmed. The family embraced in the dying heat and silence of the night. Sleep came quickly to Raycene and that night she dreamt of battle with the Titans.
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