Assassin of Fire and Sacrifice, page 1
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
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Acknowledgments
ASSASSIN OF FIRE AND SACRIFICE
Copyright © 2024 by Mary Mecham
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
www.marymecham.com
Edited by: Jana Miller
Cover by: Moorbooks Design
Dedication
For Sarah, whose loyalty and spitfire personality make her the best sister I could ever wish for
Chapter
One
Blood throbbed through my veins, pulsing with each beat of my heart even as I stood as still as any statue. My hands were clasped neatly behind my back while I stood rigidly at attention, shoulder to shoulder with the others in the Master Assassin’s Guild.
King Oswald paced up and down in front of us. I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the banner bearing our kingdom’s symbol—a fanged sea serpent—as I tracked our monarch in my peripheral vision. What could he want from us?
Our last mission, to eliminate one of the noblemen from Pyren, had been executed flawlessly…as had the nobleman. But it was always our commander, Kazan, who handed down mission orders from one of the military generals, never the king himself, and Kazan was standing in line with the rest of us instead of at the head of our group. He had even dispensed with his habit of spinning his throwing knives in his hand. The lack of the familiar sight drove home the gravity of the situation.
“Our kingdom has been offered a ceasefire and potential peace treaty,” the king finally began. I hadn’t thought our postures could have been any more rigid, but I found my own shoulders holding even more tension after his statement. An offer of peace after two centuries of war? Was he about to shut down our division and eliminate our positions?
I maintained my fixed gaze, staring at the sea serpent with such intensity that the beam of my vision could have been used as a tightrope. My work was all I had. If I had to go back to Mistress Aldra and tell her that all her efforts and sacrifices to save me from a lifetime of poverty and hardship were for naught…
“There are conditions,” King Oswald continued, still pacing across the damp stone so that the torches set into brackets along the walls set the sapphires in his crown agleam. “Prince Tarquin, who will take over as tzar in a few years, has demanded a bride from the ranks of our nobility.”
My jaw locked as hatred rushed in seething waves that set my already pulsing blood to boiling. Had he not stolen enough from our kingdom already? Wasn’t it sufficient that he burned our crops, blockaded our ports, and forced us to drain the kingdom’s coffers in this eons-long war? If it weren’t for phoenix shifters like him, I might still have had parents. And now, this Prince Tarquin was so arrogant as to demand a sacrificial bride from a nation that despised him. Was he determined to condemn an innocent girl to a lifetime of misery as a final trophy to satisfy his personal vendetta against Termarth?
“We need peace,” the king continued. “And Prince Tarquin is willing to compensate our kingdom with a considerable sum and will cease the trade embargo, effective the day of the wedding. But we cannot leave ourselves defenseless in the event that foul play is afoot.”
Of course foul play was afoot. This was the Pyrenese nation we were talking about. Anyone suspecting anything less was the naivest of fools.
Kazan saluted and barked, “Permission to speak freely, Your Majesty?”
King Oswald inclined his head.
“This presents an ideal situation to strike a fatal blow against Pyren. If we send a decoy bride from our ranks, she will be perfectly placed to eliminate Pyrenese enemies in the event the peace treaty is broken.”
I resisted the twitch that tugged at my mouth. Trust Kazan to find every opportunity to spin any situation to suit our kingdom. For a man of more than fifty years, he was still as fit and mentally agile as any of the rest of us.
The king’s face broke out into a wide smile, relieved that Kazan had picked up on his hint so quickly. “I was hoping you’d suggest it. None of the noblewomen are willing, and one from your ranks would be more likely to…cope with such a union than anyone else. I can deed over a portion of land and a title to whomever is willing, and I will ensure that the person’s family will be well cared for after…well, after the marriage.”
After the unfortunate bride was inevitably killed by the Pyrenese once they broke the treaty, he meant. No one needed to say it for the weight of the implication to settle on everyone present. It would be a suicide mission.
Kazan pivoted to look at the assembled assassins. “Would anyone be willing to volunteer?”
“Aye,” Razo growled. Snickers broke out among our ranks. Razo was built like a battering ram and was just as tough, with a thick beard and body hair so dense that it sprouted from under each article of clothing so he resembled a gorilla no matter what he wore.
King Oswald quickly raised a hand to cover his mouth, but I caught the twinkle in his eye. When he lowered it, his face had reverted to a dignified expression once more. “As generous of an offer as that is, I was hoping for someone a little more…feminine. I don’t think lace would quite suit you.”
The image of Razo squeezed into a white lace gown, with dark hair protruding from every gap in the delicate stitches of fabric and sporting his bushy beard, burst into my mind with vivid detail. I locked my jaw, grinding my teeth together to prevent my mouth from turning upward. Several other assassins failed at the same task, and I spotted them biting their lips, trying hard not to laugh and ruin our militant image in front of royalty.
“There is another factor to consider,” King Oswald continued once he’d mastered himself. “As part of the peace treaty, Pyren’s military has agreed to free all those they’ve held hostage. They claim they have more than two hundred prisoners.”
There was a quiet, collective intake of breath from everyone. We had lost many of our soldiers over the years, and extraction from the heart of Pyren was impossible. Anyone captured by the Pyrenese nation was considered dead. We had lost several from our own ranks.
Everyone standing in line had an instant-kill capsule hidden in a tiny compartment sewn into their belts behind the buckle in case they were taken. Better dead than divulging information to the enemy. But the common military minutemen had no such luxury. Many were being held captive, and several were friends or family members of those in our ranks.
“Why would they offer such a trade?” Kazan asked baldly. “They have the advantage in numbers and have won more battles.”
“Loathe as I am to admit it, they’ve already won the war,” the king grudgingly admitted. “This is an opportunity for us to keep the land we still have, and they want all of their prisoners exchanged as well. They’ve accused us of taking many of their citizens.”
I exhaled sharply through my nose. It was no secret that our prisons were bursting with Pyren’s captives. That was no accusation; that was a simple observation. I didn’t need extensive knowledge of the status of our country’s coffers to know that keeping all the prisoners fed and clothed would deplete our treasury far more rapidly than if we defaulted to the more cost-effective method of simply disposing of them.
If someone married Prince Tarquin…they would have instant inside intelligence into the tzardom’s operations. They would be able to collect data on their military movements and resources and be perfectly positioned to strike if and when the treaty was broken. Being married to such a powerful person would offer any number of advantages for advancing our kingdom’s situation.
“I’ll do it.” The words leapt from my mouth and reverberated off the cold stone walls.
A heavy silence fell while my words echoed into non-existence and Kazan nodded his approval. I felt the heated gazes from the majority of the Guild settle on me, one of the only female assassins left in their ranks.
There was no need for surprise on any of their parts. I was ready-made for this mission. Many of them knew my shameful family history, and this was one situation in which it would be an advantage, for a phoenix could only be destroyed by one of Pyrenese descent. Perhaps I could atone for the sins of my ancestors by taking on the mission that others had no chance of succeeding in. I may not be a full-blooded s
King Oswald studied me. “Come forward.”
I did so, marching forward until I was three paces away from the torch bracket, then halted. The king circled me, his eyes scanning up and down my body as if I were a horse at auction while I stared at the flickering flames that threw shadows onto the wall.
“Kazan,” he barked. “Do you agree?”
My back stiffened as I listened for the response I knew would come.
“She would be my first choice for this assignment,” Kazan said. “Azora has been invaluable in recent missions to Pyren and succeeds where many fail. She’s attractive enough to entice the prince, and having her so close to Pyren’s leader would bring me immense peace of mind for our kingdom.”
To entice the prince? A slight shudder ran down my body. I’d been so focused on the advantages of having an assassin situated so close to Pyren’s future military and political leader that I’d failed to consider what would be required to maintain my cover. Would I regret my hasty decision?
I ran my tongue along the back of my teeth as I kept my lips pressed closed. We’d been at war for so long that, if we had peace, it would be a win. If I got close enough to kill Tarquin, it would still be a win because, although we would be thrust back into a war, we would have the added benefit of an enemy leader being dead.
My shoulders relaxed slightly as I took comfort from this thought. If Prince Tarquin got any amorous ideas, he would end up dead. If he behaved himself, we would have the peace our kingdom desperately needed and I would allow him to live until I received word to finish him.
“I commend your dedication, Lady…” King Oswald paused, clearly having forgotten my name from the rapid-fire introductions that had taken place when he first entered the room.
“Azora,” I supplied, still staring at the torch ahead of me.
“Lady Azora,” the king said, smiling. “Give me your family name, and I’ll ensure that they’re well cared for during your…absence.”
“I have no biological family,” I answered. “But I would appreciate your sending aid to Mistress Aldra during my absence. She’s the one who raised me.” My heart tore as I realized I would have to go home and tell her that I would be leaving and likely would never return.
“Ah yes, I know of Mistress Aldra.” He paused, then added, “I commend your dedication, Lady Azora. You’re a credit to our kingdom. I shall not conceal that the path ahead of you will be difficult and dangerous. If it weren’t for the dire need, I wouldn’t send any woman into such a position. Many of Pyren’s traditions revolve around fire, and I can only assume that marriage to Prince Tarquin would break even the strongest of soldiers. Are you truly prepared to undertake this mission?”
I refused to let any trace of amusement flicker over my face. The king was trying to tell me that my mission would be difficult? He sat on a throne all day; what did he know of danger?
In response, I extended my arm so that my bare palm was held directly in the torch’s hungry flames that licked at my skin, but unlike those whose ancestors were exclusively from Termarth, I felt nothing other than a comfortable warmth. I slowly revolved my head so I could meet the king’s astonished gaze as he stared at my unblemished hand in the fire, then transferred his gaze to Kazan, who beamed with pride.
“As I said,” Kazan said. “Azora would be my first choice for this assignment and has been able to succeed in previous missions that proved impossible for others. Of everyone here, she has the best chance.”
“Are you…” King Oswald’s voice trailed away as he took a step back. No one from Termarth could have held their skin to the hungry flames for a sustained time without screaming in agony. But for someone like me…
“My family’s line was tainted long ago. I’m no shifter, and my loyalties are to Termarth only.”
I felt more than saw the glances that I knew were being exchanged between others in the guild. There were slim few who understood the shame I carried with me from the sins of my ancestor, and it only fueled my desire to bring all phoenixes to justice.
King Oswald scanned me up and down, but this time, he wasn’t assessing my beauty or potential ability to seduce Prince Tarquin. His eyes raked over my exposed right shoulder, which was free of the fire tattoo that was given to all those in Pyren at five years of age. Their barbaric branding was the only distinguishing feature that was used to easily tell those born in Pyren apart from those born in Termarth.
Both peoples had charcoal-black hair and fair skin, yet those from Pyren often hid their tattoos while abroad, likely to avoid flaunting the symbol of their nation’s treachery. We in Termarth always exposed our shoulders as a way to show the world that we didn’t count ourselves among their number.
“Fascinating,” King Oswald said, still staring at my shoulder as I lowered my hand. “Kazan, may I speak with you? Privately?”
The two men left the room. Those remaining stayed standing at attention.
“They’re debating if they should send me instead,” Razo murmured. “I’m prettier.” His deep voice carried his whisper throughout the room, and sniggers broke out among our ranks.
“I’d give a month’s wages to see you in a dress,” I whispered back, and several others nodded in agreement.
“Which only confirms how beautiful I am to fetch such a high price. Once I lift the hem of my gown to show a little ankle, everyone would instantly swoon.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Do you mean instantly faint dead away and be mentally scarred forever? Watch out, Prince Tarquin.”
The scattered snickers turned into choked laughter as the image of Razo’s monstrously hairy tree trunk of a leg seductively protruding from underneath a lifted gown’s hem sprang to everyone’s mind. I could perfectly imagine a simpering smile from beneath Razo’s bushy beard as he coyly twirled a strand of his long hair around his fat knuckle and blew a kiss.
Kazan and King Oswald entered the room and we all quickly stifled our laughter, but many mouths continued to twitch.
“Azora, I’m willing to send you under the condition that you are also accompanied by two additional members of your guild to act as your personal guard. They’ll be there to serve as your protection.”
My protection? I wanted to scoff. They would be coming along to babysit me because the king didn’t believe that anyone with the tiniest percentage of Pyrenese blood could be trusted, no matter how loyally I’d served Termarth for my entire life. But I’d expected as much, and the king must know that there was no other choice if Kazan had explained things to him. I was the only woman there with any Pyrenese heritage, and a phoenix could only be slain by one who had such ancestry. While a Termarthian woman might be able to take out some of the Pyrenese non-shifters, only I could kill Tarquin.
“Kazan has already agreed to serve as one of your guards,” King Oswald continued. “Is there another volunteer?”
“I will.” Razo protectively stepped forward. “Every noblewoman needs a bodyguard.” As grateful as I was for his support, the tear in my heart opened more. Mistress Aldra had raised three in our ranks—myself, Razo, and another man named Quinn, who had stayed silent through this entire ordeal. The knowledge that two of the children Aldra brought in and fostered were going to the nation responsible for the deaths of her husband and son would devastate her. I could only hope that the financial compensation the king provided would bring her some measure of comfort in our absence. But I couldn’t deny that having Razo and Kazan close while I was in the heart of enemy territory would bring me security that I didn’t want to admit I craved.
Quinn often brought Aldra flowers and helped her as she aged. Even though he and I didn’t get along most of the time, I did appreciate what he did to care for Aldra. Would he do enough to make up for the loss of her other two foster children?
