DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction produced for entertainment purposes only. Yu-Gi-Oh! and all related characters are the creations of Kazuki Takahashi.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In case anyone's wondering, yes, this is a Yu-Gi-Oh! fic. It is set in the past, so familiar characters will not show up for another chapter or two yet.

A Life for a Life
Chapter 3
By Shadow's Mirror

"Father!" Valen's cry went unheard amid the clashing of steel against steel in the throne room. Even if he had heard it though, it was doubtful that King Roland would have spared so much as a glance at his only son.

He was far too busy fighting an unexpected enemy.

The swordsman smiled grimly as his sword flashed through the air, striking his opponent's blade with a high-pitched ring that was like the sweetest of music to his ears. He was being paid good money for this day's work and he was confident that he would earn it quickly. Unlike his opponent, he heard the small voice and his eyes gleamed. It seemed that fate was smiling on him. But he knew that if he took too long, he could lose his chance and he couldn't afford that. If he only did half the job, he would only get half the pay. That thought did not sit at all well with him.

It was time.

He moved quickly, dropping one hand off the hilt and using a sideward swing, his sword flashing out in a bold, but somewhat clumsy, move. King Roland smirked as he parried it with ease, then his smile became a look of shock as the swordsman used the momentum of the parry against him and stepped into the move rather than away from it. The two men were suddenly in close proximity, which was exactly what the swordsman had wanted. The hand at his belt moved in a practiced motion and there was a soft click as a dagger was freed from its hidden sheath. The swordsman made a move too swift to follow and King Roland gasped before jerking away.

One stumbled step became two, then three, the sword falling from the king's hands as he moved to clutch his chest, where the dagger had pierced him. The swordsman's lip curled into a mocking parody of a smile as he moved in, his sword slicing through air and flesh with almost equal ease.

King Roland fell, his body lifeless before it met the ground.

"Father!" A scream of fear and horror pierced the air as Valen ran to his father's side. He fell to his knees beside him and reached out, then hesitated, knowing how much his father despised being touched 'like some commoner'. Fear overcame his hesitation and he shook his father's shoulder. "Father? Father, wake up. Wake up, Father! Please! Father! Father... Father..." Valen bowed his head, sobbing as the truth slowly sank in.

The assassin smiled cruelly. His work was almost done. Just one thing more remained. He reached for the boy.

"No! Get away from him!" The angry voice caused the assassin to glance over at the door. He snarled at the sight of the young man running towards him. He knew he had to be quick. Turning back to the boy, he started to move, then gasped and froze as he found himself staring down the blade of a sword.

Tears sliding down his cheeks, Valen braced himself, holding his father's sword just as he had seen his father hold it, on the rare occasions he had been allowed the privilege of watching his father duel. His red-rimmed eyes glared furiously at the one who had dared to take his father's life. He tried to speak, but his voice refused to obey him. His body trembled with his anguish, but he stood his ground.

The assassin smirked. Then he moved.

He charged the boy, knocking the sword out of the child's hands with a single blow. The blade skidded along the floor and the assassin laughed at the look of horror in the boy's eyes as he realised what was about to happen. The evil man could not resist taking a moment to revel in being the cause of that look.

It was a moment that cost him dearly.

The assassin's sword was in mid swing when he felt pain sear into his back. Gasping, he tried to turn but the pain was too intense. The last thing he saw was the young man who had entered the throne room, King Roland's sword in his hand, the blade now gleaming red with blood.

- - -

Alexander panted hard as he stood over the assassin's body. He hadn't known he had that much strength or speed, but seeing Valen in danger had made him almost fly across the throne room to reach them in time. He had barely paused even while picking up the sword that had been knocked from Valen's hands, the assassin ironically giving him the weapon he had so desperately needed. Two had died, but Valen was safe. That was all that mattered to Alexander.

"Valen, we must leave here. It is not safe." He turned to the child, then frowned, a shiver of uneasiness running up his spine as he realised that the boy was lying on the ground. "He must have fainted from the tension." As he muttered to himself, he knelt down and eased the boy over, intending to carry him out of there.

It took a moment for what he was seeing to register in Alexander's mind. When it did, he immediately refused to believe it. He had saved Valen. The assassin was dead. The assassin had not finished his strike. It had been so quick, but the memory was burned into Alexander's mind. The assassin had lifted his sword, had started to swing, but then Alexander had struck him from behind and he had fallen without finishing his strike.

But... if that was so... then why was Valen so pale and still and why was his shirt soaked with blood?

To be continued...