The Assassin's Tale, Chapter One

"So you're going to read me a story about the most famous assassin in all the realms?!" the boy, no more than 10 winters old, eagerly asks his grandfather. "Yes, my young one. You are almost of the age where you'll need to know more of the wide world, and I can think of nothing better than to read to you of the exploits of the famous assassin." the grandfather says with a mysterious smile and a nod. "Now, climb up under your covers, and prepare for a good lesson of intrigue, deception, and vengeance!" the grandfather says with a gleam in his eye. Excited to the point of silence, the boy eagerly climbs into his bed and pulls up his patch-covered quilt about him.

"Now, ahem. Let me get comfy here." Grandfather says as he adjusts his seat in the sturdy wooden chair, carved with intricate patterns of ravens and weasels upon it's surface. After getting comfortable, and running a hand through his straight grey hair, pulled into a pony tail in back, the grandfather cracks open the book. The book itself is old, possibly older than the grandfather, bound in black leather, with vellum pages, hand-scripted black ink, and a worn leather worked image of a raven on the front cover.

"Page one..., not always the best place to start a book, my boy, but a start none the less." the grandfather says to the boy, who promptly gives him a curious stare at the comment. The boy intakes a breath as if to ask a question, but holds it as his grandfather continues. "The Assassin's Tale. An account of the most famous assassin in all the realms." the grandfather reads from the title on page one. The boy then lets out his held breath in an anticipating sigh and a smile.

"Once, upon a time, not so very long ago..." the grandfather begins. "Wait!" the boy says. "What do you mean, "not so long ago?", isn't this the most famous assassin of all the realms?" the boy asks in disbelief. "Well yes, my boy, of course." grandfather says patiently. "Then didn't it happen long ago, in a legendary time?" the boy asks. "No, young one. It happened not long before you were born, about the time your parents were your age, as a matter of fact." the grandfather explains, gently pulling a grey quilt around his suddenly cold feet with a smile at the welcome warmth. "Ohhh," says the boy, suddenly anxious. "Fear not, my boy, for we're quite safe, the assassin hasn't been seen for many winters." the grandfather explains confidently. The boy, nodding, settles back down.

"Now, where was I? Oh yes, page one." the grandfather begins again. "Once, upon a time, not so very long ago, there was a strong and handsome Knight, with a white..."

"Wait!" the boy exclaims. "A Knight!? What about the assassin? I thought we were reading a story about the assassin! Not some stupid Knight and Princess story!" the boy says with a frustrated frown, knowing full well that grandfather read this story to him last week, and didn't want to be tricked.

"As I said," grandfather continues, "not the best place to start a book, but a start. And yes, this story is about the assassin, not the Knight. You'll just have to trust me." Nonplussed, the boy settles back down again. "Swear?" the boy asks.

"Yes, young one. I swear. Here, hold my stone, and if I'm lying, you can keep it." grandfather says as he reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a tiny black rock, carved to look like a raven. "Oh! Now I hope it's a Knight's tale!" the boy says wistfully.

Smiling, grandfather continues: "... there was a strong and handsome Knight, with a white horse, shining armor, and a tall lance." Waiting to see if the boy had more to say, but noticing that the rock did the trick, grandfather nods and continues. "The Knight, one Sir Otto Percival," the grandfather says with an inaudible snicker, "was riding his horse to the royal court one fine day." Flipping the page to continue, "Sir Otto, as he was called by his friends, was going to court to meet up with the King and the Princess." the grandfather continues. "I told you!" exclaims the boy, back from his reverie about the carving.

"You must learn patience, my boy." says grandfather, with an exasperated shake of his head. "I said nothing about a Knight, King, and Princess not being in the story about the most famous assassin, after all. And do you remember where last week's story left off?" grandfather prompts. The boy thinks for a moment... "Oh yeah..." he says. "The Knight, King, and Princess had all agreed to live happily ever after in the castle. The Knight was going to marry the Princess, and they were going to be happy forever, after the Knight slew the Dragon!" at this point, the boy stands up, and jabs an imaginary sword into an invisible dragon at the end of his bed.

"That's right, my boy. Well, this story is related to it, in as much as it's got the same characters, but a completely different story all together." the grandfather says with a knowing grin. "Now, I'm going to have to ask you to remain calm until the end of the story, then, at the end, if it's not all I've promised, you can keep the stone. Just hang onto it for now, ok?" grandfather admonishes with a smile. "Ok gran-pa!" the boy says, and finally looks as if he'll remain calm. "Right, now, here we go..." says grandfather.