Self-Inflicted Wounds
Prologue: Beast of Burden
It was a night like any other in the country of Kessho. The sky was a velvety black, speckled with thousand of twinkling stars. The full moon was high in the sky, lighting the barren, rolling fields that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The air was cool and humid. The country, although very large had nothing but fields of grain and cattle, although this was the reason it was being targeted.
What made this night different wasn't the strange easterly wind that swept across the plains, nor was it the lack of nocturnal animals that usually filled the field as they scurried to their activities. What made tonight different was the three figures running stealthily through the open field towards the distant, walled in village in the distance. Leading the three figures was a tall, slender man who was clad in dark, worn leather and heavy leather boots that covered most of his calf. As he ran through the night his black hair trailed out behind him in its mid-back length ponytail. The two men that followed him were similarly dressed, with hair styled in the same long ponytail. One was even taller than the leading man, while the other was significantly shorter.
Their light foot beats was the only sound that gave away their presence in Kessho. Nobody in the sleepy village would even suspect what was coming. The peace the country had been working so hard to maintain ever since the start of the war was going to come to an end, by the hands of the three men.
As they crested the last hill outside of the capital of Kessho, the three men stopped, gazing down at their destination. They had made good time, it was a few hours until sunrise, which gave them plenty of time to get into the fortress and complete their assigned task.
The leading man examined the area around the main entrance of the fortress. His cerulean eyes scanning and not missing even the smallest movement.
"Get ready," his command issued from the corner of his mouth as he crouched low, preparing to run for the wall when the time seemed right. It had taken weeks of preparation and diligent study to get to this moment. Now that they were here he could feel the excitement of the hunt filling every cell in his body. He shot a glance at both of his companions from under the mess of hair that had settled over his eyes in the absence of the wind. The taller of the two met his gaze with his stern violet eyes. He nodded in acknowledgment. Turning to the shorter man, the moon light glinting off his silver hair, a fierceness in his eyes that sent waves of fear through the other men, they knew it was time to strike.
Quickly and silently as hawks gliding over an empty field, the three men dashed to the outer wall of the fortress. Before the guards had time to turn around and see the three, they had already pressed their backs against the wall and were edging around to the place where they knew was a weak point in the structure.
With a grace rarely seen, the men scaled the wall in a few short leaps and bounds. They were on the other side long before anyone could have seen their flash of movement. Like thieves, they skirted around the buildings, hiding in their shadows, taking a route in the general direction of the castle in the center of the fortified city.
They ran through the city, undetected. They were like ghosts flitting in and out of the nightmares of the citizens of this city. They reached the castle and carefully edged their way around to the correct location.
"Third window on the right, six floors up," the tall, ebony haired man whispered. The leading man nodded and indicated for the smallest man to start climbing the wall. He was like a cat, finding all of the notches and ledges on the outer wall of the castle. It was obvious from the way he moved that he was unparalleled in the grace it took to scale a wall six stories. His two companions stayed routed in spot, watching as the silver haired man climbed to their targets quarters.
Sweeping his blue eyes over the landscape for any sign of trouble, the man knew that the operation would hard press fail at this point. Half the battle was getting in. Once inside, it was all downhill from there. A smirk played across his lips as the tall man tapped his shoulder to indicate that their companion had made it in to their targets quarters. He tossed a rope out the window which they caught and one after the other, began scaling the wall.
Asleep in the bed in the room was a man they knew was called Kunzite. He was a lean man with long silvery blond hair that fell to the small of his back. From the data they had gathered, they knew that he was the High General in the small Kessho army. He was also the King's most trusted advisor. He was their target because he was the one pushing the alliance with Ginoukoku. They couldn't allow it.
The man with the jet black hair smiled. Too easy, he thought as he moved towards the man. He pulled a small vial out of his boot as he moved towards the sleeping man.
"Plant the evidence," he instructed as he uncorked the bottle. Bringing the bottle up to his nose, he took a whiff of the clear liquid within. There was no scent, which he had expected. Kusuri was tasteless and odourless. It was found exclusively in Ginoukoku. This made it the perfect method to accomplish their task. The smile still playing across his mouth, the man moved the bottle towards the sleeping man. With his free hand, he grabbed the man's jaw gently, forcing it open. Before the target could wake up from his touch, the man poured the contents of the bottle into Kunzite's mouth, and tilted back his head to allow the liquid to drip down the back of his throat. Mission accomplished.
He looked up and nodded at his companions, who in turn nodded back. He noticed the tea pot sitting on the table which had been laced with the drug. He knew the alliance would never happen now. His job was done.
"Right, let's get out of here," he told his companions, "we have other things to do."
The two other men nodded, and they moved towards the open window to leave. They paused, however, when they heard footsteps coming down the hall and voices drifting into the room.
"So the marriage is all set up?" one voice asked. It belonged to a young man. He sounded as if the answer to his question meant a great deal to him.
"Yes, sir, it will take place at the next full moon. Ginoukoku and Kessho's alliance will be iron clad after that," a second voice answer. The voice sounded as if it belonged to a reedy advisor, or someone man who spent more time behind books than in the field. He sounded as if he didn't know the true pains of war.
"That's good," the first man said, although he didn't sound as if the news was good.
"It is your duty," the second man replied.
"I know," he answered. The voices moved down the corridor, and their words were drowned by the thick stone walls.
"Shit," the man with the black hair swore.
"What?"
"Our job here isn't finished," he answered. "Send Kinmoku a letter, tell them that we will break this alliance, no matter the cost."
The silver haired man nodded.
"Of course."