Say a Prayer Ch. 08

Author's Note: Warning. This will get violent and a bit grisly. There won't be anything sexual about that nasty bit, though.

***

After Delma had been carefully placed onto a canopy bed in a large bedroom, she tucked her legs underneath herself and started up at Kuno with her hands on her bare lap.

"Kuno," she said hoarsely, "where are we?"

His back slightly bending, his hands moving behind himself, Kuno said, "We're in a little manor just outside of Tuwill, an old city. It's the safest place for you to hide."

"Hide? From my husband?"

"Perhaps, Angel. I have a plan for you, and I hope you'll follow it."

Delma reached up to fiddle with the earrings that had been put in her ears without her permission. "Please don't ask me to marry you."

There was a painful, cracking laugh. Then the man put a gloved fist to his face and cleared his throat. His shoulders jerked. "That would be ridiculous. I'm going to put you in a temple in Osgarth. That's in Wyden. You'll tell the Temple Children there that you're running away from an abusive husband. They should take you in."

"What about Maino?"

One of his shoes scraped against the wooden floor as he adjusted his weight. "I'll deal with him. I'll tell him that a divorce will be arranged, and he'd better agree to it. If he decides to become violent, well, I won't guarantee his safety. If he ends up dead, I might have to find some false identification papers for you so you won't have to answer to the public concerning his death." Kuno put his hands on Delma's shoulders. The gloves scrunched and whined as he gripped her. "He's a rotten creature. He doesn't deserve to live, honestly. I'm only giving him the option of divorce for your sake." A short pause, and then he asked, "Would you report me if I killed him?"

Well ... she had truly grown to hate her husband ... and he really had nearly killed her on a few occasions.

But ... but what of Kuno's other crimes?!

She almost felt like she was being "injected" again. Something burned as it rushed throughout her body. Something had her digits wiggling and her eyes leaking tears. Her breath hurried in and out of her mouth as she tried to find an answer.

No ... Kuno ... he's ...

He must be mentally unwell, possibly insane. But he ... he wasn't cruel ... was he? Yet he did bad things, bad things to her ...

But Delma was selfish enough to not only do a disservice to society, but to herself too. She was selfish, uncaring of morality and common sense.

It didn't even matter that he had tied her to a bed and ...

She wanted a fucking divorce.

And she wanted Kuno to find help.

He could heal. Hope was still here ... wasn't it? Wait, no ... not that sort of hope. Not the god ... but maybe literal hope, that concept that keeps humanity from dying out.

Really, though, her husband had done far worse to her than Kuno had done, but if everything went according to Kuno's plan, Maino would walk free without a single day in prison. For that savage person to have freedom and for Kuno to be punished ... the idea was troublesome to Delma's psyche.

The gods wouldn't approve, now would they?

Were the gods even fucking real?!

Her face went down. Her hands hid her eyes.

"Kuno ... if you help me get a divorce, I'll go wherever you want me to go, but you need to find someone who can help you. I don't think you're well. I think you look at the world with twisted eyes, but it's likely not your fault."

"Do you still pity me, Angel?" He didn't sound offended. He sounded amused.

She lowered her hands a bit and rubbed her nose with her knuckles. "Of course. Should I think of you in another way?"

Kuno exhaled through his mask, placing his fresh scents over her head. He removed his hands from her. "I must go. Your husband needs tending to. I put your clothes in a bag under the desk over there." He gestured towards an ordinary desk in the room. "Packages of food are on the table." He made another gesture at a small dining area. "There are plenty of things to keep your brain occupied with, books, magazines, a sewing kit, blank cross-stitching samplers, musical instruments, all sorts of things. Tomorrow, I'll someone will escort you to the city, so you won't be too miserable."

He left her there, and Delma noted that once Kuno had closed the bedroom door behind himself, there was a heavy click of a lock. He had locked her inside.

***

Maino Roiters thrashed about in his chains, but he couldn't do much as Kuno penetrated his throat with a hypodermic needle attached to a syringe. He did give Kuno a rebellious, bitter look with his eyes, but that look faded into something drowsy within moments, and he was soon asleep.

Kuno slapped his face once, just to be certain that the martial artist was unconscious. He didn't want him struggling. It was best to avoid a fight he wasn't prepared for. When he was satisfied, Kuno unlocked the chains and put the large man over his shoulders. He was pretty heavy. Kuno actually grunted as his body adjusted to the sudden weight.

Careful yet swift, Kuno carried Maino out of the bedroom and into a hallway. He happened to glance at the locked door that separated him from the Angel. Poor little Delma had suffered so much. She didn't deserve all of this, but he knew he'd do whatever he could to make her as comfortable as possible.

He hurried through the hallway, then down a set of stairs, through a foyer, and out the front door. In the nighttime world, hills, trees, and a city in the distance, all greeted his eyes. He paid the scenery little attention. His captive would wake up soon. Kuno had purposely put a very small dose in him.

He walked around to the back of the house, and he set Maino Roiters down on the ground with his back against the building's brick wall and his backside on the earth. Kuno lit a few outdoor sconces so he could see better. Then, Kuno dragged an old wooden bucket to himself, flipped it upside down, and sat down on the bucket's bottom.

And he waited.

Kuno adjusted his mask so he could take a swig of water from a small flask in one of his pockets. A few moments later, keeping an eye on Maino Roiters, he went to a bush and urinated at it. Then he sat down on the bucket again. He took one of his pocketknives from another pocket and started fooling around with it. It was unusually large, and the blade was rather long. It was always more difficult to use with gloves on than without, but he was accustomed to that problem and knew how to live with it.

A few minutes more, and then Maino Roiters grumbled and yawned. Kuno spoke to him briskly. "I'm glad you're awake. Have a moment to collect your brains. I'll wait for you."

His hands moving back against the house, pushing himself to his feet, Maino Roiters said, "Where am I?"

Standing up quickly and kicking his bucket out of his way, Kuno said, "You're at a small manor. You haven't been asleep for long at all, at least not since I cuckolded you." Kuno tightened his grip on the handle of his pocketknife. The leather on his fingers made a sharp noise around the wooden material. "Don't start a fight with me. You were trained to fight, but I was trained to fight and kill. You're the only person I've ever wanted to kill, but I won't do that unless you try to fight me. Delma needs a divorce. I'm going to hide her away, and you're going to have a divorce. Do you understand?"

Maino stopped listening. He lunged at Kuno. Kuno groaned, stepped aside, and rammed his elbow into Maino's throat. A normal person would have clutched their throat and paused. Maino sucked his pain up and only stumbled for a second.

A second was enough for Kuno. He rammed his foot into Maino's leg, right at the hollow part behind the knee, which made Maino buckle a little. Then Kuno tried to reach for Maino's throat.

Maino caught Kuno's wrist and dug his fingernails in so hard, so painfully, that for a brief second Kuno thought, "He actually broke my wrist!" Kuno didn't cry out. He only grimaced under his mask. Then he dropped his pocketknife, ripped Maino's hand off of him, and retreated, his brain casually scooping up all the information he had on the fighter's style.

Maino would charge again soon. He certainly would.

He did.

Kuno lowered himself to the earth and basically crawled, but quickly, like a fiercely wild animal. He raked his pocketknife back into his grasp. He rolled out of the way of one of Maino's shoes. Then he rapidly shot himself up into a crouching position. He had another second to test out his painful wrist. It didn't seem broken after all.

Maino was coming again. The earth seemed to cry out as his feet pounded down over and over. He was either going to kick Kuno or grab his neck. That's what Kuno thought. He might also try to grab Kuno's whole body. Best not to even let him get close.

Jump! Jump backwards! Then run! Run around in a circle! Make him chase even more! Yes, Maino was chasing! He was such a stubborn, hot-tempered man. He didn't know how to control his anger.

Halt! Let him come. Let him see the back of the cloak. Let him think he can claw and tangle the cloak. Let him think he can have you.

Raise the arm like a lever. Drive the blade up and into that man.

Right at the throat.

A masculine, wet scream.

Twist, pull out, crouch, leap! Spin around! He's covering his throat, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. That meant he wasn't covering his heart.

The blade was so sturdy. It didn't break, and it went in so cleanly.

Well ... the air would soon reek. Maino didn't like it, but it couldn't be helped. The best way to dispose of a body was to burn it, after all, and he did have an excellent oven big enough for such things in the kitchen. The tall, great thing was originally built for a bakery, but he had purchased it at a discount for this house.

Thankfully, or perhaps not so thankfully, he was near Tuwill, which meant that the local authorities wouldn't ask about it. Even if they did, even if they learned the source of the disgusting smoke, they wouldn't do much about it.

He mostly worried about Delma's nose, poor girl. She didn't ask for any of this.

Once Maino was on the ground, and once Kuno knew he was dead, he took a few breaths and wiped his blade against his breeches. Then he went into the house to find some rags to tie around the wounds, so there wouldn't be any dripping blood later.

When the corpse had its wounds wrapped up, Kuno carried the body into the house, and then into the kitchen, where a warm bakehouse oven was waiting. It was winter. He kept that thing glowing inside, even though the trays for holding up pans of dough were left outside, leaning against a wall.

Maino unlocked and opened the oven's heavy, creaking door. Then he stoked the burning wood inside and added a bit more fuel. When he was satisfied with the heat, he picked up the corpse and tossed it in there like it was a sack of nothing important. Then he closed the oven's door and locked it.

He walked back outside and looked for a lantern and gardening supplies so he could do something about the blood on the ground. When he was satisfied with his work, he looked up at the night sky. It was so dark that he couldn't see the smoke floating up from the chimney, but he smelled it. It was repugnant. It probably smelled worse inside, on the first floor. He hoped that Delma's bedroom window was closed.

Oh wait. She was a widow now.

He shrugged.

Kuno walked back into his house, went up to his own bedroom, and undressed, planning on burning his clothes later. After he folded the stained clothing into a tight bundle, he washed himself clean. Then he put a mild cologne on his throat and armpits.

Was the poor angel sad and lonely? Did she need companionship? Would it be too morbid if he offered her his attention?

Well, at least he knew he shouldn't leave her alone.

He put on a fresh outfit.

***

Delma dressed herself with an uncertain couple of sighs hissing out of her. It was the single outfit she had been wearing before Kuno first drugged her, a simple traveling outfit for the winter. She considered putting her cloak around herself, but there was a roaring fireplace nearby. She decided that she didn't need it.

The food left for her was fairly rustic, but filling and oddly comforting. She even sipped at a little wine left in a flask for her, but only a little.

She thought she heard something upsetting outside, but she didn't want to know what was likely happening. The bedroom window remained tightly shut. The drapes covered the glass obediently. Delma pretended she was calm. With the help of candlelight, she looked at the images in the magazines, vaguely wondering about nothing.

She heard movement and activity downstairs. She was too uncomfortable to knock on her locked door and ask for information. Her eyes stubbornly remained on the pages of a magazine.

Time went on and on. She paid no more attention to the noises all around and in the house.

But she did wonder if Kuno was dead. Maino was such a skilled man, at least when it came to hurting people. Then again, Kuno had his own element of danger. He might have killed Maino, assuming Maino didn't want to agree to anything and only wanted to fight, which was highly possible.

Eventually, there was a knock at the door. Delma looked up from the magazine and called out with a shaky voice, "Kuno?"

"Hello. Would you mind if I visited you?" He sounded remarkably polite and friendly, as if he hadn't just dealt with a crazed man he had cuckolded with pride.

"Ah ... well ... I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing."

"It wouldn't. I agree. I'm going to unlock the door." A moment of clicking and knocking, and the door opened. From her seat at the desk, Delma turned her body a little and looked at Kuno. He was still a mysterious man with a hidden face and body. Nothing about that had changed. He entered the room quickly and closed the door behind him as if he was afraid of something chasing him.

"So ... my husband ... is he somewhere in the house?"

The man's shoulders quirked up and then lowered. "Don't open the window, Angel. The air outside is vile."

Delma got up from her seat. The chair didn't even creak. "What's happened to the air?"

Not even hesitating, Kuno told her, "I killed your husband. His corpse is burning in my oven. Don't go downstairs. It's worse there than it is outside."

Her jaw dropped. Her hands hung at her sides.

"I gave him the option to live. He attacked me instead. So, we fought, and I killed him."

Delma's stomach seemed to disappear.

Kuno gently asked her, "Do you need a moment?"

"I don't know."

Delma knew that she had hated the man, but ...

This was too tangible and final. It didn't matter that she didn't watch Maino die. It didn't matter that she hadn't been married to him for very long. Her life felt like a lump of wet clay being roughly squeezed by an uncaring hand.

She sat back down near the desk, looking at her hands. "If I return to Henrisk, people, perhaps even investigators, would ask me about my husband. I don't know if I could hold on to a false story, but," she inhaled and exhaled very painfully, "I don't want ... if I report you ... I know it's cruel and unfair of me, but I don't want to report you."

"Give me two days or so, and I'll have a new identity for you. I'll take you to Osgarth, and once you're settled there, I might never trouble you ever again."

Delma looked up. Kuno was standing close to her. When did he get so close? She hadn't heard him move. "What? You'll leave me there all alone?"

"It would be the best thing."

Her mouth dried out. She coughed into her hands.

"Angel? Do you need some water?"

"No, no! I ... I need ... I need ..." She didn't know if it could be said without frightening consequences exploding before her.

Kuno then proceeded to tell her that tomorrow morning a young woman would visit her. Her name was Marina Bord. She'd take Delma on a little shopping trip and keep her company. He seemed to be ignoring Delma's worry. Then he reached out, putting his hand on her shoulder, and bent down. He put a covered kiss right on her brow. The cottony fabric that touched her skin wasn't soothing at all.

She watched him walk away, and then she sighed as he quit the room. She heard him lock the door.

She wanted to do more than rest until morning, but she didn't know what could be done.

***

Well, after all these centuries, it finally happened.

Threne had always been content to let that organization be. He understood why it existed. He even understood that if it were to fall apart, another organization would take its place. It was the same for assassins in general. If one assassin didn't kill a target, another would be asked to do it. The world was dirty and dipped in gray morality. Sometimes innocent people died. Sometimes not so innocent people died.

But, this group had crossed line Threne had drawn.

Anyway, Threne had left the organization alone. He wasn't loyal to it anymore. He wasn't part of it anymore. Odds were, the higher ups there had forgotten all about him. Either that, or they didn't care as their predecessors had.

Even Threne had his favorite people. And in this case, he had a favorite lineage. He didn't like to talk about it much, not even to his stupid red jewel. He didn't like to dwell on the heartache. Most of the time, he pretended he never had any favorites in the world. It was safer that way.

He didn't necessarily love the current Adurant family. He liked them, but he didn't love them. They shouldn't be special. He didn't even tell his jewel that they were special.

But they were special.

Because centuries ago, during the Feudal Era, Threne was part of that certain organization, and he didn't have constant pain in his sinuses. Food satisfied him. He also had been completely capable of having an erection.

And he had been completely mortal.

The first wish he granted was against the rules. It didn't remove years from his sentence. It added several hundred years instead, and his lack of taste for food had been added as an extra punishment, a way to make him suffer more, encouraging him to grant wishes that weren't against the rules.

"Damn The Colony! Damn them!" He had said to the woman who had recently been awarded a great amount of land, a castle, and a noble title. "I'll abandon them and remain with you!"

"I could try to protect you," she had said, "but I cannot swear by it. When The Colony wants you dead, you will die."

But eventually ... thanks to an unrelated contract ... he accidentally killed the wrong target. It was supposed to be his last target before he'd run away to Castle Adurant.

The wrong target. The most wrong target.

Then his punishment came.

And he made it worse by granting that woman's wish.

He had nearly destroyed The Colony, and then he left a warning.

Carved deep in the stone floor of the leader's office.

"Never again should you accept a contract against the Adurant family. If you do, then no matter how much time passes, I will set all the reluctant ants free."

***

The city wasn't too different from what it once was.

It looked different, more contemporary and with newer buildings, but it was still very similar.

Tuwill, one of the most peaceful cities, one of the oldest cities, was a quiet place. The crime rate was seemingly low, but only because of the criminal organization they paid protection money to. Not only that, but many of the people living there were assassins. Assassins knew better than to draw unnecessary attention to themselves.

This is the city Threne went to in the middle of the night, and he easily located an ancient stone building. He stared at it for a long time, thinking, wondering. When was the best time to ruin The Colony? When?