I was running through the trees as fast as I could. Legs pumping hard, breathing measured while arrows whizzed past. I jumped over fallen trees and rocky patches and weaved as more arrows flew past, hitting trees around me and shattering on impact. The calls of the men behind me were distant but the stomping of their feet told me they were gaining ground, then the barking of excited dogs reached me. Shit.
I didn't look back. That would cost speed and time. Another arrow flew past my head. It barely missing my exposed ear, an ear that my hood would usually protect, which was pushed back by the wind.
One of the pursuers called out, alerting me to their next shot of the crossbow; fortunate for me but poor form on their part. I darted to the left then changed my escape eastwards, running for a cliff face that walled this forest. The pursuers communicated the change of direction, calling out almost glee in what they perceived to be their prey becoming trapped. Oh, how wrong they were.
A hound had finally caught up on my right, attempting to coral me until its pack reached us. It snarled and barked. I pulled one of my remaining throwing knives from the bandolier, took aim and threw, barely missing a tree as it sailed through the air. A howl followed by whimpering told me it hit its mark in the beast's hindquarters. I smirked in grim satisfaction.
The other beasts continued to follow, but now at a safer distance.
The cliff neared. I could see it from the trees. Not much further now. I leaped over another fallen log, landing roughly on the other side. Pain lanced through my foot and up my leg, but I kept running.
Someone had released another arrow; this one however, found its mark. It sliced a nasty gash in my side between the leather belt protecting my mid-section. I growled in pain. The lucky bastards.
Warm blood was soaking through the white robe. I put my hand over the wound applying pressure but kept running. The men cheered at the sight. Even the hounds seemed to yip with excitement.
The cliff was fast approaching now. I looked for the best and fastest way up using expert eyes. It wasn't long before I saw the path. It almost appeared to light up before my eyes. I spied a fallen tree at the base of the cliff; it wedged in the fork of another tree. I would use it to launch up a fair distance, to several handholds up the cliff-face, to my escape at the top.
Taking deep breaths, filling my lungs with as much air as I could take in. I pushed my legs harder, eating up the distance at speed. As I ran up the log, I wiped my hand clean of blood. Once I reached the highest point, I jumped, launching myself up to the first hand hold. I hit the stone with a force that would eventuate with bruises later. Wincing, I pulled myself to the next hold and the next until I was scaling the wall like a critter. Dogs yipped, barked and growled at the base of the cliff, frustrated that their prey was out of reach. Their owners now reaching the cliff as well, lined up and taking aim with crossbows. The leader calling out commands before a volley was released and arrows flew all around me, bouncing and shattering off of stone.
The next hold was high above my head. Without slowing, I launched upwards, reaching out with one hand and grabbing the jutting rock. Then I was slipping. Sweat and blood not fully wiped off earlier was the cause. Just as my fingers went over the lip and I dropped, an arrow shattered into pieces right where my hand had been. Debris rained down. I caught the next hold a head lower than where I was. With no time to ponder my luck, I scanned the ledges quickly and found the next route.
Scrabbling my way up and up, ledge to hold, until I finally made it to the top. Heaving my injured and strained body over the final lip and onto my back where I lay, catching my breath.
After a minute or two, I rose to my feet, hand returning to my injured side but before leaving I peered over the edge. At the bottom, the dogs ran back and forth while the men glared. The leader of the group raised his crossbow, before releasing the projectile. Leaning to the left, it whizzing past me into the distance. I threw him a vulgar gesture in return then retreated from the edge. The sound of his frustration bringing a smile to my face as I continued my now less hurried escape.
My bloodied hand reached into the pouch hanging from the belt. Surprised, warm, not cool metal greeted my skin. My fingers curled around the item, pulling it from the leather pouch. The golden, blood smudged orb shone in the light. Fine lines and whorls had been etched into the metal by skilled hands. It was a masterpiece.
There had been so much violence and death over this small trinket, yet I could feel a power inside it. Inside this Piece of Eden.
I returned my prize to the pouch before checking my wound quickly. It was shallow and would heal leaving a small scar in time. Using the blade strapped to my wrist, I cut material to form a makeshift bandage.
After a time of walking, I came to the edge of the forest. Shadows and light forming a boundary line. Pulling my hood over my head, I stepped out of said shadows and begun the journey to my next target.
An eagle flew overhead, casting its shadow over my path as it circled, and I recited the mantra that had been drilled into me since I was a child.
Nothing is true.
Everything is permitted.
We walk in the shadows to serve the light.
We are Assassins.