Deté 38th, 995 A.D.

The vivid red door to an Innutukian tavern flung open to reveal the tall, handsome form of Captain Andre Feliz, champion swordsman of the Empire. He sported full black hair that ended at his strong jawline, and his skin, already tan due to his Marcocian ancestry, was even more so given his greater exposure to the sun. Unlike the other Innutukian military officers, who tended to maintain as much beard as they could while still keeping it groomed, he settled for a simple mustache and a line of hair descending to his chin.

Andre's lesser facial hair did nothing to diminish his masculinity, however. He strolled into the establishment with piercing brown eyes that caused men to avert their gazes out of intimidation and women to do the same for fear of their interest being discovered. His golden-hilted sword swung at his hip in its scabbard and his maroon cape flared out behind him as he wove around the full tables.

He approached the bartender with an intense gaze and leaned on the counter. "I'll have whatever my contact ordered. Speaking of which, where is he?"

"She ordered nothing, Captain." the wiry man replied. He pointed a slender finger into a shadowy corner on the other end of the tavern. "But she sat down there."

"I'll have a whiskey, then." Andre produced a handful of red elliptical coins. He slid them across the counter, and the bartender eagerly took them.

"You've been away for some time, Captain. I was beginning to wonder if my service had fallen beneath your standards."

Andre watched with serious eyes as the bartender found the whiskey bottle and a goblet. "I've been rather busy. A noose is being prepared for Monterayne's neck."

"I see. And I assume your peculiar guest here is a component of that weapon?"

"Precisely. Though I must confess some confusion over you declaring her feminine. She writes like a man."

The bartender snorted. "She fights like one, too. But I tell you, she speaks like a woman and walks like one too. Now, handle your business. You're holding up the line."

Andre nodded and took the goblet of whiskey. He made his way to the table the bartender had indicated, where his contact sat in a shadow so deep he could barely make out even her silhouette, let alone any details. Once he set his whiskey down on the table with a clunk, she leaned forward, revealing a feminine form covered in a black cloak. The garment's hood concealed all but the very tip of her pale nose. A few dozen arrows peeked out from behind her left shoulder.

"I've anticipated this meeting for some time now, Black Crow." Andre said cautiously as he took a seat. He folded his hands and propped his elbows up on the table. "I hope wading through all your mysteries will prove a profitable gamble on my part."

"My reputation is well earned." the cloaked woman replied simply. Her Danlashian accent, quickly identifiable by her elongation of all E's, caused Andre to raise an eyebrow.

"Well, I assume you would prefer to get straight to business, and so would I. I have some military operations in the works that could finally turn the tide in Innutuk's warfare with Monterayne. But I foresee their knights getting in my way, and I can't have that."

"So you want them killed. And you're hiring me to do it."

Andre took a swig of his whiskey down with a grimace. "You're a perceptive one. Yes, I need them out of the way."

"How many of them are there?"

"Well, of course Monterayne wouldn't provide us with numbers, but with all the changes they made in the knightly order, many departed. I estimate something around eighty men, give or take."

Black Crow shook her head in the depths of the hood. "I don't enjoy the idea of my pay being decided by bloodied speculation."

Andre smiled and held up his hands. "I understand you want all the money now, but hear me out. I could pay you on a per-kill basis. You kill more, I pay more."

"Not acceptable."

"What if I paid you for, say...the first dozen in advance, and we'll meet again when you've finished to collect any additional?"

A long moment of silence followed before Black Crow shrugged her shoulders. "Fine. I can compromise. Do I have any time limit?"

"Yes. Forty days from now will be the time for my plans to come to fruition. If you haven't killed them off by then, my men will take what's left of them. One more thing."

"Yes?"

Andre's eyes grew distant as he gazed across the tavern. "There's one man I want you not to touch. His name is Manfred Rickland."

"And how am I to know who he is?"

"He's very tall, with dark blond hair and a face to match his height. Serious fellow...you'll know it's him when you see him."

"Duly noted." Black Crow said curtly, "Now, the money."

Andre chuckled and produced a pouch of the scarlet coins. "You did say your rate is 98 per head, right?"

"I did."

"That should pay for a dozen. Now, you'd better get moving. You'll be a busy woman."

Black Crow rose to her full height, which wasn't all that impressive. She stood a whole head shorter than Andre. After reaching back down to retrieve her bow, she gave a slight nod to Andre.

"I sure hope your plan is worth all this effort, Sir Feliz."

Andre smirked. "I'm certain of it."

With one last salute, Black Crow made her way for the door. Andre watched her depart with a thoughtful expression on his face, mind racing as he thought over the other components he would have to bring together to bring his plan to fruition. If he could only make this work, the Emperor would simply have to respect him. No longer would his status as a foreigner or his lack of fluency in the Innutukian language stand in his way of becoming a warrior as respected by the people as he was feared.

Andre tossed back the rest of the goblet of whiskey and rose to his feet. He would be a busy man himself.

****

Deté 73rd, 995 A.D.

Princess Kate glanced up from her dining with Sir Tom and Captain Sloan when the balcony door creaked open again, and Manfred made his return. Following closely behind him was a dark-skinned man of only average height, but impressively bulked up musculature. His already charming face was artfully framed by curly hair, with a matching beard lining his jaw. The facial hair encircled his full lips and accented them. Overall, he clearly wasn't Monteraynian, but Kate found herself appreciating his aesthetic nonetheless.

When Manfred had fully stepped through the doorway, he bowed before Kate, and his companion followed suit, eyes locked with hers the whole time. His dark brown eyes were unlike other men's. There seemed to be much more than mere physicality, as if the soul behind them spoke more eloquently, yet without words.

The two men finally rose, and Manfred slowly stepped up to Kate's spot at the table with hands folded behind his back. "This man, your highness, is Nathan Korynn."

"Don't worry, Princess." Nathan remarked, a fitting smirk jumping to his lips, "I know who you are, though I haven't had the pleasure of seeing you this closely until now."

Kate smiled immediately, the expression almost reflexive but still genuine. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Sir Korynn. Please, seat yourself beside my fiancé and be served."

Kate watched Tom's single eye track Nathan's progress to the chair beside Captain Sloan. He seemed to be silently and constantly judging the young man, though Kate couldn't imagine why. Had she missed something?

While one of Kate's servants loaded up a plate for Nathan, the princess herself ate another bite of bread. Then she dabbed at her mouth and leaned forward. "Now, Sir Korynn, I assume you have been made aware of the reason you have been summoned here?"

"No, I thought I was just being given the privilege of dining on sumptuous food with a princess." Nathan said with genuine confusion on his features before cracking a smile and laughing. "I'm jesting, of course. Yes, I know what's going on."

"You do foolishly to treat this matter so lightly." Tom remarked with a bitter undercurrent in his voice.

Nathan's gaze ascended to meet Tom's. He pursed his lips and nodded while brushing some dust off his uniform's sash, scarlet-hued to indicate his study of the aggressive Raskan style of swordsmanship. "I stand corrected, Sir Holt, and I apologize. How can I be of help?"

Kate reached down to the floor beside her seat and picked up one of the barbed arrows. Taking perhaps superstitious care to not ever let it hover over a plate of food, she handed it to Captain Sloan, who in turn placed it in Nathan's hands. The dark-skinned knight studied the arrow with great interest.

"My question is simply this, Sir Korynn: These arrows have slain many of our knights, but their origin is clearly not in Monterayne, not in Alconte, and not in Innutuk. Sir Rickland has suggested that your background as a blacksmith may indicate that you have an answer."

"Indeed..." Nathan trailed off at first, eyes only darting up briefly to meet Kate's before returning to the arrow, "At first I would have said it was a Shafarian hunting arrow, but the head isn't broad enough. This is actually a Danlashian arrow. Narrower head for deeper penetration."

Captain Sloan nodded. "Interesting. But why the barbs? Aren't regular arrows deadly enough?"

"Ultimately, you're right. These Danlashian arrows hit harder and go deeper, but regular arrows kill just the same. The purpose is less obvious than that. With Danlash's specialization in naval warfare, an archer can't go up to his enemy and confirm the kill. So their arrows reflect that. You absolutely cannot remove them without tripling the size and severity of the wound, meaning the archer gets to stay on the boat and still be sure of his success."

Kate grimaced. "So the killer is a Danlashian...that hardly makes any sense, though."

"Agreed." Sloan said, "Danlash has no grievance against Monterayne, not that we know of. We have no coast, so we're not challenging them there, and though they have their tensions with Alconte, we've never expressed a desire to back her if a conflict arose between the two."

Nathan let out a breathy laugh. "You two are thinking too big-picture here. Maybe the nation of Danlash has no problems with Monterayne, but an individual Danlashian very well could. Not to mention that simply shooting Danlashian arrows doesn't make a person of that nation by default."

Manfred nodded from where he sat across from Nathan and beside Tom. "I guess the advantages still carry over for assassins. Shoot from the shadows, don't worry about revealing yourself to confirm death."

"That's exactly right."

"Is there any way to use the arrows as leads to find the killer?" Kate asked.

Nathan eyed the servant thankfully as she placed his plate before him. Then as he grabbed up his utensils, he returned his attention to Kate. "I think so...I'd need to put some thought into it. Your grandfather outlawed the distribution of any sort of barbed arrow in Monterayne several years ago, but you know how things work. Once something's made illegal, a shadow market's born for it."

"If we could find the smiths or vendors who make this stuff, could we find out who they've sold to?" Manfred asked.

"Conceivably, yes. Not foolproof, but it'd be worth a try."

Kate smiled. "In that case, I should wish the two of you to look into the matter. I see you already collaborate well."

"What do you mean by that, Princess?" Nathan asked with a playful smirk, "That Rickland here thinks the same thoughts I do, just a few seconds slower?"

Kate giggled, eyes twinkling with mischief as she glanced at Manfred. "You also have a sense of levity he could use."

Nathan laughed. "I wholeheartedly agree. You need some joy in your life, Rickland."

"Maybe you're right." Manfred muttered, "I hope following this path finds us the answers we need."