The Assassin's Tale Read Online Free

have used so simple a stratagem.”
    “Why, thank you,” said Jager. “It’s always nice to be called clever. And your masters did not tell you that I was the Master Thief? It is good to know that incompetence extends even to the ranks of the fabled Red Family.” 
    Mara frowned. She hadn’t expected him to deduce that. She would have to be even more careful around him. “What a peculiar man you are.”
    “Thank you,” said Jager. “But do elaborate.”
    “A halfling merchant is rare enough,” said Mara, “but a halfling thief?”
    His smile took a sour edge. “And what did you expect? That I would be the servant of some corrupt noble? That I would wait on him hand and foot and accept his insults with good cheer, all while prattling about our long and honorable tradition of service?” 
    “Have I touched upon a sore point?” said Mara. 
    Jager grunted. “So it would seem. But I suspect you have your own sore points as well.”
    “Oh?” said Mara. “Do elaborate.”
    “You needn’t be an assassin,” said Jager.
    Mara laughed. “And will you try to talk me out of it, then? Convince me to repent and leave behind my life of iniquity? You know nothing of me.” 
    “No,” said Jager, “but I do know that you must have a very compelling reason to be an assassin.”
    “Enlighten me, sir,” said Mara. 
    “You are beautiful woman,” said Jager. He smiled. “A bit short, true, but I know firsthand that height is an overrated quality.”
    “Until one needs to fetch a jar from the top shelf,” said Mara. 
    He laughed. “You could easily charm someone to get the jar for you. Which is precisely my point. If you wanted, you could command large sums as a prostitute.”
    Mara raised an eyebrow. “If that is flattery, you are doing it wrong.” 
    “You already kill strangers for money,” said Jager. “Is that much worse than sleeping with strangers for money?”
    She could think of no good rebuttal to that, so she gestured for him to continue.
    “And since you obviously find that idea distasteful,” said Jager, “you could simply disguise yourself as some minor noblewoman and find a wealthy husband that way.”
    “Perhaps I enjoy killing,” said Mara. “I’m good at it.” She didn’t know if it was a legacy of her dark elven blood, or if she was simply good at it the way some people were good at knitting or drawing. “Everyone needs something they are good at. Such as stealing.” 
    “Religious motivation, then,” said Jager. “You are a devoted follower of Mhor…though rather more polite about it. I’ve met a few Mhorite orcs, and they are quite unpleasant.”
    “No, I do not follow Mhor,” said Mara. 
    “Then I would hazard a guess,” said Jager, “that someone in the Red Family has a hold over you. Blackmail, maybe, or some sort of coercion. One sees it all the time in criminal enterprises.”
    Mara said nothing. He could not know the truth, could not know about her dark elven blood and the enchanted jade bracelet upon her wrist. Yet his guess had come closer to the mark than he knew. 
    “And will you rescue me, sir?” said Mara, putting a bit of mockery in her voice. “Carry off the fair maiden from the lair of the dragon?”
    Jager snorted. “If you are a maiden, then I am the Prince of Cintarra. And you don’t need me to rescue you. I am trying to rescue myself. If I talk you out of killing me, the Red Family will send someone less competent after me.” 
    “And what about you?” said Mara. “Why steal?”
    Jager shrugged. “Why not? Perhaps I’m bored.”
    “Or you could be a halfling servant,” said Mara.
    His smile didn’t change, but a bit of hardness came into his amber eyes. “And give up all of this?”
    “You’re going to die, probably in a lot of pain,” said Mara. “Boast all you want, but sooner or later I will find a way to kill you, and even if I fail, someday you’ll make a mistake and get killed. If you’re a servant, you won’t have