Chapter 9

Cristoff woke in Andal's own cabin. He was very groggy, but he could move without too much pain. Daylight shone through windows, and Cristoff slowly got to his feet and inspected his wrappings. There was a thick bandage around his wrist, and a sour taste left by the blood that had clotted in his mouth. All in all, it could be a lot worse.

Andal came in and saw that he was up,

"Oh, the Lord of Light has indeed blessed you Jonas. Torin was almost certain you had lost too much blood."

"How much did I lose?" asked Cristoff

"Almost as much as you took from the pirates. I must give you my deepest thanks; often have we seen pirates attacking ships during our travels, but never have they sought out our small vessel. And the way you fought! You were like an eagle tearing apart rodents. I have never seen anything like it before."

"I had a very good master-at-arms to teach me."

"Indeed. We will be arriving at a port for a day or two, but you should continue resting, Torin tells me."

"Alright, thank you Andal."

Andal bowed low, revealing a scar on the top of his head, where no hair grew. He straightened up and left the room.

Cristoff sighed, "I really didn't think this through, did I?" he said aloud. He absentmindedly wrung his fingers to get them warm and felt like something was missing.

"I wonder why they took that finger specifically." The stump of his finger had almost healed, and flesh was beginning to form over the hole. Cristoff was to check its progress and redress it if need be every day, and no matter what, to not scratch it. He wore a specially made glove that covered the hole and kept the bandage tight around his hand. Cristoff went out on deck to get some fresh air, the salty ocean smell bracing and he soon felt better. Men cheered at him or clapped him on the back for saving them from the pirates, elsewise they would have been overrun and ransacked. Cristoff returned their praises with a quiet smile and climbed the mast's rigging to reach the crow's nest. The lookout was already up there scouting the horizon.

"What can you see beyond?" asked Cristoff

"Naught but waves, the coast and seabirds." replied the lookout without looking down

Cristoff looked around, squinting against the noonday sun. in the distance he could make out a cluster of buildings ahead. They had already passed Yin and Asabhad, and Cristoff knew of no other major cities along the coast.

"Qarth! I see Qarth!" cried the lookout, a cheer followed his words below. Cristoff smiled slightly, his stomach had the feeling of ravens trapped within.

"Why am I so nervous? Mentor Nicolai said I had great potential, I should be fine, he said."

They arrived at Qarth at dusk, White Wader begun unloading her cargo and Andal saw Cristoff off.

"May R'hllor watch over you Jonas. "

Cristoff smiled and turned to the city. The docks were crowded and noisy, full of men bringing things on and off of ships, and further up past the docks was a line of vendors along the street, each clamouring for the attention of a passing customer. Cristoff was at a loss at that point. He was told that a Sorrowful man would come and see him but he could see no one remotely resembling the silent assassins.

"Are you looking for me?" said a voice behind Cristoff

With great restraint, Cristoff turned around calmly and saw the Assassin standing there in his full robes, his hood pulled low over his face.

"You are Cristoff Malekan. Follow me." Said the man simply, and he began to weave towards the crowded street. Cristoff followed closely, in order not to lose the man among the great throng of people.

Cristoff lost sight of the man more than once, but as he pushed his way through he would always find him standing there, impassive as a stone in a river. Eventually they reached a deserted quarter of the great city, a series of decrepit old buildings lay wasting in the sun.

"I heard that Qarth was the greatest city that is, was and will be. Why would they let these places fall to ruin?"

The man responded without turning, "Even the Thirteen cannot afford to keep every building in pristine condition, so long ago we arranged for the Warlocks to hide these buildings so that we may operate in secret. No man may find them as long as we do not wish them to."

The man walked up to the closest building and pushed the door open. Cristoff followed cautiously, until he was inside a great hall that did not look like it was part of the building itself. The hall had a high roof, with the Assassin's banner hanging from the far wall; an eagle, black and white, against a field of red.

"Do you know what our sigil stands for, young Cristoff?" asked the Assassin, who pulled back his hood as he entered the building, revealing close cropped grey hair, an uncommon sight in Qarth.

"No, I do not."

"We are an old order, dating back to the start of the reign of the dragons, our brothers began on Valyria, so it is said. The eagle represented our strength as hunters, our eyes that see everywhere, our ferocity in battle and our ruthless efficiency. The field of red is debated amongst our order; some say it represents R'hllor, whom we pay homage to, others say it represents the blood we leave behind. We exist to hold the balance in the world, and we achieve that through removing people from this world the only way that is permanent."

"We kill them." Finished Cristoff

The Assassin nodded, "We kill them."

He guided Cristoff through a series of hallways until he entered a room with an empty bed and a candle flickering in a sconce

"These are your quarters. You will be woken for your training before dawn, do not wander about below the third floor, as there are things there you should not yet know. Food will be brought at mealtimes in the main hall we passed through. Until then, get settled and familiarise yourself with the first three floors, but go no deeper."

"How deep does this place go?"

The Assassin smiled, "No-one truly knows, once a group set out to find out how deep it went, and they have never returned. Some say you can hear them fumbling around in the dark, trying to find the light from which they came." The Assassin closed the door behind him and left Cristoff alone in the cell. He let his satchel fall to the ground and took a nap until evening, when he was called for supper.