Remember Me Spain

Chapter 4

The centuries went by and we became older and, to some extent, wiser. It was 1804 and we were all sixteen. And though Dad trained and cared for us as best as an assassin could, not everyone made it. The first to go was Casia. She had a nervous breakdown a few decades into our training and she was disposed of quickly. We learned after that, that Dad had no patience for that sort of thing. The next to go was Cazaden. Stupidly, he got caught mid-kill and in return was killed himself. Died from sun exposure, or so we were told. Of course, their deaths didn't bother us. It was just, life.

That left four of us. And for those of us who remained, Dad had trained us in specific skills. For instance, Skander and Dustin were trained as the traditional assassin. Typically, they used rifles, pistols or knives. Since they were known for being aggressive and confrontational they were hired if an employer wanted a job done quickly. Kalista and I were the opposite. Unlike the boys, we were trained as unconventional assassins. We would use a range of techniques from the Femme Fatale to poison. This was especially beneficial if the job needed subtly and finesse. We all became so good that we were now entrusted with our own jobs.

It was early December; I had just finished a job. The employer, who wanted to remain anonymous, had hired me to kill a wealthy landowner. It seemed that he held a grudge against this man because he had married the love of his life. And the mysterious employer, along with the man's wife, planned to have him killed. I found it to be rather superficial. But as long as I got paid I didn't question anything.

From what I was told the husband was old and needed around the clock care. So it had been an easy kill. Months before I had infiltrated the house, claiming to be a Night Nurse. I observed his routine. Washing, changing, feeding and medication every three hours. I then slipped a deadly dose of liquid wolfsbane into his medicine and he was dead within hours.

As I stepped out into the night I gave a shiver. I pulled my cloak tightly around me. From inside I heard a piercing scream and the sound of panicked servants as they rushed around the halls. I gave a smile and hoisted a large, leather sack over my shoulder. Inside I heard the jingling of a leather purse filled with coins.

I stopped briefly and stared stoically at the house for several minutes. A normal person would feel guilty about killing the man. But I wasn't any normal person. I was an assassin, so I no longer felt guilt. It had been beaten out of me long ago. I turned and began to walk down the gravel drive again towards the road. I had to get started early, or I wouldn't be back at Dad's camp before dawn.

The night was cold. I took a deep breath in and smiled. The cold air gave me a spark of energy. Before I knew it, snow began to fall. I looked up and paused again. Snowflakes gently landed on my eyelashes. I smiled. I loved snow, ever since I was a child. I allowed myself to smile gently. Usually, on cold nights, like this one, I would make myself a mug of cocoa and watch the snowfall. I guessed that would be a treat for me when I finally reached my bed. I shook my head and began to walk again. I had wasted too long being sentimental.

The walk back to Dad's was quiet and uneventful, which was good. I was tired and was in no mood to deal with anything or anyone. I listened to the sounds of my boots crunching in the new blanket of snow. Occasionally, I heard the wind whistle through the trees. The chill in the air trickled into my boots and through my cloak, making me shiver again as I walked. So, I was glad when I finally reached home. In all honesty, it wasn't really a home. It was an old cottage that housed only two. So, of course, Dad and Rhea took the only rooms. Meanwhile the rest of us were stuck with stolen military tents that were scattered on the property.

As I approached the cottage, I noticed Skander's lumbering body slouch over the fire, and begin to douse it with snow, while Kalista was cleaning up the pots from the recent meal. My stomach growled. Even though I was hungry, I guessed that there would be no food left, and no time for me to cook anything. So, I would have to wait until the next evening. But it wasn't the first time I had to skip a meal.