"A Story of Blane" by Imelda Weijers

The sun was high in the sky on a clear afternoon. A soft breeze rustled through the trees, causing the yellowing fall leaves to drift down. On any other day, Blane would have appreciated the simple beauty of nature, but today the dry leaves on the ground would make his task even more difficult. Cloaked in black, the hood covering his face, he was hiding in a dusky alley, waiting for the right moment to climb the two stories high wall surrounding the grounds of the Rezdan summer estates. Blane knew Rezdan guards patrolled this part of the wall on the inside. But this was the only spot where he could enter the grounds without detection. If he’d had a choice he would have waited for the darkness of night, but the target of his dangerous endeavours was leaving in a few hours. The young lady Larissa would be travelling with her father, Lord Rezdan, to their home in the capita. A full escort of Rezdan guards would of course accompany them. Blane would never be able to reach her to complete his mission once they set off. Word of their departure had only reached him an hour ago. If he had known sooner, he would have come here last night. He didn’t feel comfortable about sneaking into the Rezdan estates in broad daylight, but what other choice did he have? Blane could only hope Giona, the goddess of luck, was on his side today, for he needed all the luck in the world to succeed. But he doubted it, for she hadn’t been kind to him for a long time. He didn’t have a reason to think it would be any different today.

Soft footsteps in the alley pulled Blane back from his pondering thoughts. He spun around quickly, drawing his sword. A young street urchin had sneaked up behind him, dagger in hand, ready to steal what valuables Blane might have. Having lived the live of an urchin himself, Blane smiled. He relaxed and spoke in his soft voice. "I’m not worth getting killed over, boy. Take your business elsewhere". Looking over the boy’s shoulder he added: "and your friend over there, too". By the look on the boy’s face Blane knew he’d guessed right. These young thieves usually did not work the streets alone. For a moment the boy hesitated, then he gave a quick nod and ran away, his friend joining him as he passed his hiding place. Still smiling, Blane shook his head and let his sword slide back in its sheath. The hissing sound this made and the curve of the blade were two of the reasons the sword was called Serpent. The third had more to do with the skill of its wielder than with the weapon itself. In his steady hand the short sword was always quick and true, like the fast attack of a snake. How many people had he killed in his career? He didn’t like the killing as some of his colleagues did, but he had to make a living and was very good at his job. But after today’s mission, everything would change.
Ah, his mission. He’d better stop thinking about other things and concentrate on the task at hand.

Blane had to wait for a patrol on the other side of the wall to pass. He checked both ends of the alley to make sure there was no one in sight that might spot what he was about to do. The last thing he needed was for someone to alert the city guards. He gathered up his long black cloak and wrapped it around his waist, tugging the end between his belt. This way the fabric wouldn’t hinder him as he climbed the wall. While he had been waiting, his trained eyes had scouted the wall for cracks between the stones big enough to use as hand and foot holds. Blane used his litheness to good advantage and in no time at all he reached a point from where he could grip the top of the wall. With a single pull he had one leg over the edge. Then he paused to take a look down. And a good thing he did. A thick hedge of Imnoc bushes had been planted along the wall. Had Blane jumped down, the long, hard, spiky thorns would have ripped his clothes and flesh. He noticed a gap between the hedge and the wall. It wasn’t wide enough to risk landing there, but if he moved carefully he could use it as a walkway, hidden from the eyes of the patrolling guards. There wouldn’t be enough room to wield his sword. Not that it mattered, for even though he believed he was a better swordsman than most of the guards, he didn’t think he’d stand a chance of getting out alive in case he was discovered. There were too many guards scattered around the grounds for him to fight all of them and there wouldn’t be time for an escape back over the wall without receiving a bolt in the back from the crossbows some of the guards were carrying. But he counted on his cunning and experience to complete what he came here to do.
Sighing, Blane slowly pulled both legs under him. For a moment his body was silhouetted against the bright afternoon sky as he went into a crouch, balancing on top of the wall. Then he pushed off and jumped down. As soon as he touched the ground he bent his knees and threw his weight forward. He rolled over his shoulder and smoothly got back on his feet. Then he lowered himself on to his stomach and crawled under the thorny bushes to the gap between the hedge and wall. There wasn’t much room to move about under the hedge, so Blane sustained some cuts and scrapes from the spiky thorns. As he reached the gap, he crouched down and took a pause to catch his breath and decide upon his next move.

The going had been a lot slower than he cared for. Dry leaves on the ground had almost caused his discovery. Blane had been so intent on not making a rustling sound that he hadn’t noticed two patrolling guards coming up from behind until it was almost too late. He was certain they would have spotted him if he had kept moving. Precious minutes passed while he waited for the guards to get well out of earshot. Then he went forward again, slowly making his way to a corner in the wall. Following the wall around the corner would lead Blane away from the main building of the estate. He had to cross an open space about ten yards wide to a stone building. From the state of disrepair the building was in, Blane figured it hadn’t been in use for a while. He was just about to crawl from under the hedge when two figures appeared round the nearest corner of the building. A boy and girl in their late teens, servants by the look of their clothes. They were giggling as the girl leaned her back against the stone wall. The boy placed his hand against the wall next to her head and then tenderly but clumsily kissed her. Meanwhile, Blane sat crouched behind the hedge, his hand on the hilt of the dagger in his right boot top, silently cursing them for wasting more of his time.
"Dammit Giona, why do you hate me so much?" As if the goddess of luck he invoked heard him and took pity, a shout came from somewhere near the main building. The two young servants looked up, startled, then hurried away to return to their chores. Blane watched them go, shaking his head in surprise. "Thank you Giona, I will give you more than my usual offering next time I visit your shrine." Realising the coast was now clear Blane crawled from underneath the hedge, resisting a strong urge to make haste. A few more cuts and scrapes were added to his skin and this time he felt the cloth of his sleeve tear as it was caught on a long spiky thorn. He carefully wriggled it loose, not wanting to ruin one of his favourite tunics. As soon as he cleared the bushes Blane made a quick dash for the unused building, his cloak billowing behind him. There he stood waiting for a while, his back pressed to the wall where the servant girl had been a minute before. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening for sounds that might indicate he had been discovered. But everything was and stayed quiet.

A quick glance around the corner told him this building might have been used as a small coach-house. The arched doorway was big enough for just that purpose. The doors were gone now, the rusted, bent hinges the only reminder that there once had been doors. Expecting a patrol any moment now, Blane decided he would stand less change of being detected if he went inside. His only concern was that his eyes would adjust to the shadowy dimness of the interior. If he had to come out again in a hurry, he probably would be momentarily blinded by the bright sunshine outside. But that was only a small risk he had to take.
As his eyes got accustomed to the dim light, he noticed his guess about the use of this small building had been correct. A broken carriage wheel and some other old, broken and now useless things lay heaped in a corner. But Blane did not have time to examine the interior. The soft sound of footsteps rustling through dry leaves reached his sharp ears. Without a moment’s thought, a reflex rather than conscious thinking, his sword Serpent hissed out of its sheath. With a quick movement of his arm he let his cloak slide away over his right shoulder, leaving his sword arm free in case he had to fight. He stepped a little closer to the doorway, still safely hidden in the shadows, but close enough to peek outside. Blane strained his ears to follow the sound of the footsteps. They weren’t going around the building as he had expected but moved ever closer to the doorway! He sent a silent prayer to his favourite goddess again. "I know you are a fickle lady, Giona, but please, I beg of you, do not abandon me now."
But the footsteps didn’t stop and Blane knew he had to face whoever was coming. He waited until the very last moment, then stepped out of the shadows.



They stood there, motionless, facing each other. Blane, his sword in hand, every muscle tensed, ready to spring into action. And Larissa, her left hand clasped to her chest, her right hand held up as if to ward him off. Her fear caused her breath to get stuck in her throat, preventing her from making a sound. Only a few seconds ticked away, but to both of them, it seemed like hours. Then Blane moved...

Here ends my part of the storytelling. The rest is up to you, dear reader. But I will leave you with two possibilities to help you on your way.

Is Blane an assassin? Perhaps Lord Rezdan is a nobleman not many people like. Harsh and merciless, his daughter the only thing he has left to love, he could have powerful enemies. Maybe one of them hired Blane to kill Lord Rezdans daughter Larissa in revenge for things her father did.

Or is Blane lady Larissa’s secret lover? Her father has forbidden the relationship between his daughter and a common mercenary. Unwilling to give up the love of his life, Blane risked being captured by Lord Rezdan’s guards to meet her, to ask her to elope with him. With Larissa at his side, Blane could be willing to give up his life as a hired sword and settle down to start a family.

Let your imagination run free and create your own ending to this story. Perhaps you will find a completely different reason for Blane to be where I left him...