The End Game

Writers: Estelle, Miriah
Date Posted: 21st June 2020
Series: The Assassin's Husband

Characters: Varlin, Lusilk, Lorican, Khaggo, Silgan
Description: Varlin makes the first move
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 5, day 2 of Turn 10

Lusilk

Shrieks and giggles filled the air as the children of the Weyrhold
played in the afternoon sun, racing each other up and down the lake
shore, unaware that they were being watched. A man in the plain garb of
a laborer stood a short distance off, his face shaded by a wide-brimmed
hat common to those who worked outdoors. He seemed to face out towards
the water, as if taking a moment to rest, but his eyes never left one
particular child.

Varlin had known the boy at once, even before his companion had pointed
him out when they'd first arrived at the Weyrhold the sevenday before.
His silence was a clue, but it was the look of intense concentration on
his face as he focused on his play that was so familiar to him. He
looked just like her, as she had been when he'd first known her.

Now it was time.

There were two creche workers, one playing a skipping game with a group
of older children, the other sitting on a rock and watching the rest.
Varlin stretched his shoulders, then began to walk back up towards the
Weyrbowl, as if returning to his work. As he passed the little boy, he
glanced down at him, then felt in his pocket for something and crouched
down beside the child.

"Hello." He held up a small mark between two fingers, with a quick, easy
smile. "Do you want to see a trick?"

Silgan had always been told to be wary of any strangers, but in his
child's mind, everyone in the Weyrhold had been kind so could be
trusted. No one had ever been bad or mean to him. Glancing around he
nodded with a wide smile, eyes on the mark.

Khaggo's eyes gleamed as Varlin approached the boy. It was so close!
His task was almost done! **Snatch him and be done with it!** He
approached the creche workers. "Excuse me, but I'm hoping you can help
me. I'm looking for..." He pulled out a hand-drawn heavily creased
map, turned it, then turned it again. "I'm sorry, I'm looking for the
Headwoman's office. I just can't understand this map."

"Don't worry, there's so much building work going on here that the maps
are hardly drawn before they're out of date." The old auntie smiled.
"Let me see now, this is the staff quarters here, and where these huts
were is now the healing hospital...or is it?"

As they spoke, Varlin made a fist around the mark, then turned his hand
over with a practiced movement and opened his fingers to reveal an empty
palm. "Look - where did it go?" He reached over and plucked the wooden
disc from behind Silgan's ear. "Here it is!"

He allowed himself a brief glance over at his companion and hid a frown.
The man was too impatient, greedy for the reward. They had to get the
boy away quietly, or they'd bring the dragonriders down on their heads.
Even a mute could draw attention if he was kicking and fighting. Shards,
there was a reason he charged extra for jobs in the Weyrs.

Hiding his frustration, he smiled reassuringly at Silgan. "Guess what.
You don't know me, but I know your Mama. We're old friends, go back a
long way. She said I might find you out here with the others." Another
quick look showed the creche worker squinting at Khaggo's map, while the
other looked over her shoulder. He offered the boy a hand. "Want to go
and meet her with me?"

There was a silent giggle as the mark appeared out of his ear and
Silgan reached to check Varlin's hand, then his own ear. But at the
offer, Silgan paused, attitude immediately changing as a strange wary
glint appeared in his eyes that was odd for a boy his age. His mama
talked to a lot of people now, but this man had never been introduced
to him. He glanced over his shoulder at the creche workers, then back
at Varlin, his eyes narrowed. The man looked scary, especially with
that scar. But would the bad man play funny games and do tricks? The
bad man was...bad. This man wasn't. Besides, maybe Lorican was with
his mama or he could watch the forges again. He liked that. He
hesitated, then slowly took the man's hand with a nod.

With a last look over at the creche workers, still occupied with the
map, Varlin closed his hand around the boy's and started to walk away,
back towards the Weyrbowl. It took all his self-control not to pick up
his pace and drag Silgan along, but he kept to a slow walk.

"Your Mama is out in the copse, where she goes with her smith," he
explained, keeping his voice light. "We'll find her there." There'd been
talk about that in the Weyrhold, and he'd watched them go off together
in the evenings. The sight had pained him more than he cared to admit,
but he'd fought it down with a ruthlessness born of Turns of practice.
Let them enjoy themselves while they could; it wouldn't last. Meanwhile,
it would be a good place to meet with Khaggo and head for the place he'd
chosen for the trap.

Khaggo, seeing Varlin move the child away from the corner of his eye,
quickly finished with the creche workers, thanking them for their
assistance. He forced himself to chat and flirt a little with the
creche workers, using his charm to make a young woman blush. When he
was certain that Varlin was out of sight with the Lord Holder's heir,
he gave a wink and walked away, whistling to himself. **So close to
getting this fecking job finished...then a ship back with the little
lordling brat and then my pay.** He forced himself to walk slowly,
but inside, his heart was pounding with anticipation. Soon....

As they reached the copse and entered, Silgan stopped immediately. His
mother wasn't there. Lori wasn't there. Confused, he looked up at
Varlin, and an odd sense of fright began to grow in his belly. This
was wrong. It was wrong. He began to tug at the man's grip, shaking
his head.

Feeling the pull on his arm, Varlin stopped, turned and crouched down,
keeping a firm grip on the small hand. "It's all right, Silgan." He
looked directly into the child's wide eyes. "Your Mama will come. I
promise. But you'll need to be brave for a while. Do you understand?" He
looked up, over the boy's shoulder, and saw Khaggo entering the clearing.

Khaggo's eyes gleamed with triumph at the sight of the little boy and
his lips split into a malicious grin. "Good job with that little
trick. Hand him over." He pulled a small vial out of a pouch. "I'll
make sure he stays calm."

Silgan's eyes became frightened and then with a sudden loud,
ear-shattering scream, he wrenched at the hand holding him and bit
down as hard as he could.

Varlin swore, startled by the sharp pain, and nearly lost his hold on
Silgan. His fingers tightened and he reached for the knife at his belt,
bringing it up swiftly so the point brushed lightly against the curve of
the boy's cheek, mirroring his own scar. Cold blue eyes met the child's.
"Quiet."

Silgan began to tremble in terror and with a whimper of terror, fell
silent, tears streaming down his cheeks. His lower lip trembled as a
soft whisper fell from his lips. "bad man...the bad man...I want
mama..."

Khaggo was losing patience and hissed softly. "Don't mark him. Here."
He thrust the vial forward. "Laced with fellis. It'll keep him quiet
and still. Dose him already and let's get this over with."

His eyes stayed locked with Silgan's for a moment longer, then he
sheathed the knife and took the vial from Khaggo. Shards, he hoped the
man had measured the dose right, or the boy might never wake up. He'd
have to trust Khaggo not to risk his hopes of the reward.

"Here. Drink." He held the vial to Silgan's lips, with a bitter twist of
his lips. "It'll make the bad things go away. For a while, anyway."

Terrified of not one, but two bad me, Silgan drank, his nose wrinkling
at the taste. "Please...let me go home. I want my momma...please..."
Tears wet his face as his eyes flicked back and forth between the two
men. "I want Lori. I want Mama..." He continued to whimper and weep
softly until his words became slurred and he sat suddenly, body
weaving from side to side. "Mama...mama..."

Varlin's eyes narrowed slightly as he recognized the name of the smith,
but he made no other sign. He tossed the vial aside and lifted Silgan up
in his arms before Khaggo could object, resting him against his
shoulder. He'd be an encumbrance, but giving the hunter the chance to
get away with the boy and leave him to deal with the aftermath was no
part of his plan.

"Let's get moving. Someone could have heard that scream." He started
away, heading deeper into the woods. "We'll find a safe place to hide
him while I go back to deal with the smith and his mother."

Khaggo scowled as Varlin scooped up the boy. His hands ached to rip
the child away from the other man and be on his way. His only interest
was the boy, but, he reasoned, it would do him little good if the
wench was chasing him all the way back to Rorrigraf. He gave a grunt
of acknowledgement. "I'm not letting that brat out of my sight. I've
looked for him for too long."

Back at the weyrhold, fingers crumpled the edges of a note as Lusilk's
heart began to pound in an emotion close to panic. He had him. Sweet
Faranth, she should have expected him to go for her son; he knew about
him, but didn't realize how much she now treasured him. But even so,
Silgan was the one weakness Varlin could exploit. **Bastard!
Reputation and coin...that was all he'd ever cared about!** A
coldness seeped over her as she reread the note and struggled to push
down her growing panic. If she alerted anyone, Silgan's life was
forfeit. It was unwritten, but she knew it to be a fact.

The letter also implied something else: if she finished her job, she
could have her son returned to her. As the door to her quarters
opened and Lorican came in, her face was cold, the expression one of
calculation...he would have recognized it from their first meeting.

"Lusilk - " He started to greet her, but the words caught in his throat
and a chill struck to his heart as he saw how still she was, and that
she was holding a message. Had she had word of the scarred man? "What's
happened?"

Her eyes narrowed for just a moment before she offered him the note.
For a moment, a brief one, she considered the knife on her side even
as she approached him. But something stopped her. If she'd not gotten
to know him, if he'd not become close to her, the decision would have
been instant. "He's here. He has Silgan." She moved to her bedroom,
dug under her bed and began to slip small daggers about her person.

Left in the main room, Lorican looked down at the note, hardly
processing the words. **He has Silgan.** The sweet, trusting little boy
that he'd come to love like a son, was in the hands of a ruthless
holdless man. But why? It was Lorican he wanted, who he'd been
contracted to kill.

**He wants to stop Lusilk protecting me.** Or worse, he thought as his
mind started to work and he looked over the note again. Maybe he wanted
her to help him. Lorican would have no chance against both of them. For
a moment, he thought of getting away, of asking a dragonrider to take
him to Dolphin Cove or the North. And then he remembered Silgan,
clinging to his leg in a childish hug, and knew he couldn't leave. Not now.

He went to his room, pulled out the tool bag from under his bed and took
out a hammer. It wasn't the largest he had, but it was familiar, the
handle well-worn with Turns of use. Then, he returned to the main room.
"I'm coming with you."

Lusilk's eyes flicked to the hammer and her lips thinned as she played
with the dagger on her side. "Yes. You are."

Last updated on the October 13th 2020

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The End Game