"The Old Assassin, Part 1" by Sophie Hollmann

Bela stood in front of the fireplace when she returned. He turned around to see her, and for a few moments she just looked at him. Her gaze spoke of fate, and cold fingers seemed to run down his spine. He sensed that she did not have good news for him, but none of them had expected that. Yet the feeling that had begun to scratch on the edge of his conciousness told him that what she had come to know was worse. It was as if somebody was knocking on a closed door – nearby but still invisible.

Bela stepped up to her and put his hand on her unharmed shoulder. Although nobody who had not known it would have guessed it, she was still wounded from her fight the day before. Bela felt relief that she had come back, although she had assured him that nothing would happen to her.

Odile averted her eyes and slightly shook her head. She was confused, Bela realised. Confused and not sure what to say. So he gave her time. He did not ask what had happened. He knew she would tell him, but he did not know if he really wanted to hear it.

Finally she raised her head. “He wants to see you”, she said quietly.

Something seemed to creep through a crack in the door and it grew colder. Bela raised his brows. “Me?” Why could he want to see him ? He didn’t even know him. He didn’t have anything that could have interested a man like this one. It didn’t make any sense – yet he felt the unpleasant feeling growing. The answer was crawling slowly through the door into his mind. Searching for remedy he looked into Odile’s eyes. She didn’t want to tell him, he thought. She looked as if she knew that it would be dreadful to say it.

She moistened her lips with her toungue and took a deep breath – but Bela knew it before the words came over her lips. It was as if a bubble suddenly exploded in his head. The door flung open. He is your father .

“He is your father.” Odile looked restrained, but her eyes were full of concern.

“What?” Bela said it before she had fully finished her sentence. His mouth went dry and his legs seemed to turn to jelly. Slowly he sunk into the armchair nearby and was greatful for the cool leather that touched his skin.

“This is what he says .” Odile put off her Jacket and and turned around to throw it on a chair on the opposite side of the room. “I wouldn’t put a touch of trust into his words concerning this matter.”

She flees , Bela thought. She believed she would be able to flee from the truth, if she only tried hard enough. She always did that – but she never manged to brazen it out. What she had said was the truth. He knew it. He felt it. And she must have seen it in his eyes.

“I don’t know what he is about”, Odile continued meanwhile. “But I know that I don’t believe he wants to ask for forgiveness, because he abandoned his son twenty years ago.”

“But you believe that I am this son”, Bela said. Quietly. Firmly.

Odile back-pedaled and turned. For a short moment she looked unsettled, but then she folded her arms. “As I said, I don’t trust him a bit.”

Against his will, Bela had to smile a little. “But it is the geniue truth, even if everyting else he said is a lie.”

Odile snorted contemptuously and came back from the other half of the room. “You don’t know that, Bela. You only saw this man once. This meeting wasn’t very long and you didn’t even talk to him. And that your father ran away from home – he could have heard that anywhere:”
Bela just shook his head and got up. His legs seemed strong enough again, but there remained a mouldy taste in his mouth. He put forth his hand and touched his wife’s resolute face. “I know it.”

“Bela…”

“No, Odile", he interrupted her gently. “Don’t try that. Don’t you trust me either?”

She gave him an indignant look. “I hope you don’t expect me to answer this. Nevertheless, you can’t know it.”

Bela nodded. “Yes. Aswell as all the other things I could not know. Do you remember? Yet it seems as if some of my guesses were right – although I didn’t always like that.” With a little relief he realised that she slowly gave up her averting attitude. He tried to get a convincing smile upon his face, although he didn’t feel like it – by no means at all. “Don’t you want to tell me, what happened exactely?”

Odile gave a sigh. “Actually, what happened was precisely what I told you. Raoul brought me there, and he acted the remorseful father who doesn’t want anything but to reunite with his long lost son. If we did believe his words, the reason that I am not dead yet is that he would do anything to make you happy. I would wager my right hand that he has a different plan, but I don’t have an idea what it could be.” Peevishly she shook her head.
Bela looked at her troubled expression. He didn’t want to puzzle over the things Corin was about. The longer he would waste his time speculating, the more blurry and obscure everything would get. Therefore he embraced Odile’s waist, pulled her closer and kissed her neck. He could not say what would expect him with reasonable certanity, but somewhere deep inside of him, he knew, what he had to do. But how should he explain this to Odile. She would take him for a lunatic. He gave a sigh and palmed her back. “There is only one way to find out”, he said after a while of silence. He felt Odile stiffen in his arms.

“You don’t really mean that!” She took a step backwards to look at his face, freeing her self from his embrace. “You don’t really want to go to him!”

“Yes”, Bela answered calmly. “This is what I intend to do."

She looked at him, her eyes widened. They both knew when they could not keep the other back from doing something, although they always tried to beat reason into one another’s heads. Now Odile knew that she could not hold him back from going, but she was too obstinate to give in.

“Have you gone insane?” Her face was angry, but only because she was desperate. “This might well be suicide!”

“Why am I not already dead, if they want to kill me?” Bela rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Apparently they don’t have great difficulties to get into the palace. Raoul was here. I guess he would have killed me, if he had wanted to to that.” He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“What ever it is”, interjected Odile by no means pacified, “I assure you, it is nothing good.”

“Maybe”, Bela said. In reality he didn’t have many doubts about that. Odile knew Corin very well. She had worked together with this man for eight years, and Bela trusted in her judgement. Nevertheless – how many hours of his childhood had he spent with wondering what had happened to his father? How often had he prayed that he would see him again, athough he could hardly remember his face? And there was something else. A vague feeling that he had to find this man, if he wanted to find a part of himself which had long been lost somewhere in the haze of the past. Something waited to be seen, and he was the one who had to see it. “I will go”, he said after a short while.

At first it seemed as if she wanted to continue their argument, but then she put back the dark hair that had fallen into her face. Bound and determined. “Then I will go with you.”
This time Bela didn’t have to force the smile upon his face. It did him good to hear these words, although he knew that it was not reasonable. Then again, had they ever been reasonable in matters like this?

Bela reached out for her hand. “When?”

“Tomorrow evening.”