The War Born by James A Moore

Author:James A Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781915202765
Publisher: Watkins Media
Published: 2023-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Whistler

The voices said to kill the Inquisitor or lose his face again.

Whistler decided to listen.

He moved through Goltha as a shark cuts across the seas, aimed unerringly at the place where the Inquisitor waited unknowingly to die.

As he had anticipated, the Inquisitor was in the tower where many of his kind lived. There was no chance that he could enter the building without being seen. And so, despite the bitter cold and the falling snow, Whistler waited. It was almost a day before the man left the building. He once again walked with the woman who was half his size but bore a strong resemblance facially, which was inconvenient as the Inquisitor had to die. There was simply no choice in the matter. Whistler had lived with his ruined face and would not suffer it a second time. If that made him vain then he was vain, but he would not live as a monster in the eyes of the people around him. Better to be anonymous than nightmarish.

The snow kept falling, and Whistler slipped into the street behind the Inquisitor and his companion. He kept back a distance, and cursed the cold that ate at the edges of his fingers and feet after so many hours outside. The only saving grace he’d had was the heavy cloak that protected him from the worst of the weather and had kept him warm even when he napped while waiting.

Now his consolation was the blade he carried in his right hand. This time it was tipped with a thick coating of ground parva seed oil and raw garlic. One strike, one deep cut, and the Inquisitor was as good as dead, though it would take a few hours for his heart to stop. He intended a clean death for the man, but he would take whatever sort of victory came his way.

The Inquisitor moved onto one of the main roads. His companion had left him, but she was not his target. Where wagons rolled past in both directions and people walked on foot between busy shops. The snow might stop many things, but it would never prevent people from buying the food they needed, or stopping at a pub for an ale or a goblet of wine.

As the crowd moved, Whistler stepped in closer to make his strike. Too busy for an easy kill, but one good thrust of his blade and in a few hours…

The Inquisitor’s broad back kept a steady pace and Whistler moved forward, and got a firm grip on his blade.

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