Excerpt: The Bonded

It had been hours since the sun set, and a candle lit a small room, the light flickering as if uncertain of it’s own flame. The dim light streamed out of a small space between a wall, and a partially closed door, an obvious warning in the middle of the=night. The door, made of splintering and half rotting wood, creaked a little, as different parts of the house would do periodically. At the end of the hall, in the shadows, stood a young boy of seven. His bare feet were brown and scratched, his pants dirty and frayed, his shirt was too big and it hung around his shoulders, the sleeves going past his hands. Long and very dark brown hair, almost black, hung in his wide blue eyes as they searched the doorway for any signs of movement.
Slowly he put one foot forward, then the next. Timing the steps carefully he made his way up to the beginning of the small stream of light. Straining his ears, he tried to listen for the sound that would usually be droning loudly from the room, but not hearing the usual snores he hesitated. Then on impulse he leapt with light feet past the door, stopping quickly on the other side leaning against the wall as soon as he had, silently gasping in deep drafts of the cold night air. And then the door swung inward, and light flooded more of the hallway. Expecting the usual sudden beating he ran down the hall, leaving the room, not knowing it was empty.
The Lad turned right and kept running, until he had reached a room identical to the ones around is, except for the fact that this one had been kept unlocked. He ducked inside, not waiting for the sound of footsteps that he thought would be following. There was only a little light here, as well, but it came from a window, and in the light of the moon the boy could see his way around the large storage area.
There were isles of food going down the length of the whole room, all of which had dry food of different sorts. A few windows down the long isle lit parts of it up, but leaving dark spaces in-between. The boy grabbed some bread and crackers from a rack, scooting under a table near the middle of the room. He began munching quietly, but ravenously in the dark. And that was when several, extremely odd things happened.
The boy froze at a very slight sound. He listened intently, realizing that someone was very quietly, and cautiously opening a window. He looked to the right, where the sound came from, and with a thump two long black boots appeared not too far. He could only make out the legs of a man, big black boots, and dark clothe pants rolled up to the top of his these. He didn’t dare move to see the rest of him, and caught his breath as the figure moved stealthily towards the table he was hiding under.
The legs froze however, when a figure in the shadows moved a little into the light from behind one of the shelves. The boy could see more of this man, because he was farther away. Growing more and more grateful that the table was in shadows, so it was unlikely either of the men had seen him, he looked at the new arrival. He also had black shoes, only these were smaller, and lighter, as if needed fro stealth. Black cloth made his pants, which were tucked inside his shoes. Around his knees was the bottom of a cloak, which was also black.
The boy could see no more of either men, but realized that they were both facing his direction, and he guessed, looking at each other. The boy suddenly grew afraid. If this man had been hiding in the shadows, that meant he would have seen him enter. And then his eyes grew wider, as he saw the mysterious reveal a hand covered by a black leather glove. But it was what he was holding that caused the lad to struggle to hold back a cry.
It was a knife. Long, thin, and deadly. One the shining blade were scratches, making out words in a secret code that only one people knew. These people were the most deadly of all known, in the boy’s opinion. He did not know their name, but they were called the shadows, a name seeming to simple for the cunning people. They were a group of thieves and assassins, who traveled abroad and unnoticed, leaving the strange scratches wherever they struck. Now the boy could see he was in a more serious situation, and not knowing what to do, he stayed where he was as a confusing scene unfolded before him.
A low gravely voice said “Forgive me, Had I known the likes of you were to be here at this time, I would ‘ave gladly waited for another night.” in an anything but civil tone.
A moment went by before the answer from the second man came. His voice was soft, with an almost royal tone to it, but it was masked by disdain. “The feeling is mutual.” He spat. But then his tone changed, and the lad could almost see the gloating grin creep onto his face. “But we are both here for the same reason I take it. But you must ask yourself, who is it that got away, the man in plain sight, or the one in...” his voice trailed off and he seemed to disappear.
The boy looked from under the table, just in time to see the knife appear from nowhere, behind the first man. He could see now that he was a man in maybe his early 40’s, with a clean shaven face, dark eyes, but red hair. He didn’t look particularly young for his age, but had a cunning, lethal look. A sword which had hung at his side was suddenly in his hand, barely knocking the knife away, but not deflecting it from slicing into his shoulder. He bellowed in pain. kneeling, as the shadowed man continued to skillfully dismantle him with a series of kicks.
As the first man fell to the ground, and then jumped up again. As he ran for the window, quickly as he could escape, the boy saw the second fully, or as fully as he could. The hood had been pulled down past his eyes, so he wondered how the shadow-like man could see. But when all had been still for a short time, the man turned to the boys hiding place. In a sudden movement he threw his hood back, revealing black eyes which stared right into the lads. In a moment he was two inches from his face, making no expression.
He was young. About 17, the boy guessed. Black eyes, lean face. Black hair. Everything about him was dark. He smiled and said to the lad, “Your name.”
The boy stammered out, “D-d-d-uff. Duff Lennox, sir.”
The smile didn’t fall once, nor the eye contact. “Hold this for me, Duff.”
And then he was gone. The window was even closed when he left, and when Duff felt it was safe enough to come out he searched the room, just to make sure the men were really gone. And then he wasn’t even sure the event had happened, until he noticed what was in his had. No sign of blood, shining like new, he was holding the knife of the shadow.
Duff Had a strong feeling that someone was watching him, as he strode through the crowd of merchants and milling passerby’s. Not that it would be unusual if someone was following him. It seemed there was always someone being robbed, or sabotaged. A band of cutthroats could be waiting for you just around the corner, or your house could be being robbed from as soon as you left. And yet, Duff thought grimly, life went on normally, and these things were not so unusual that they would ruin the course of the day’s.
However, a very hostile presence had settled in his subconscious, ruining his peaceful mind set, and as he looked through the merchants’ wares, trying to find something worth his few pennies, he found himself continuously looking over his shoulder. Everything seemed normal, people scurrying about, trying to find the best bargain first, pushing and shoving through the crowd.
Finally the menacing feeling faded, and Duff strolled about, enjoying the uncommonly warm weather. The sun beat down on the odd mixture of brick and wood houses, scattered around the town in an unorganized fashion. There was no pattern in which they were laid out, no straight lines of neat streets. Instead, the buildings had been built wherever the owners had wanted them. Streets and roads wove together, forming alleys in-between houses, making a perfect maze of the place. Duff had grown accustomed to it, however, and it had been easier to get around town as the years passed.
A strong firm looking lad, Duff was 17 years of age. He was a smiths apprentice, not unusual for young men like him in his town. He was broad, not exceptionally tall, but had a good average stature, sturdy and sure looking. He had a friendly disposition, if not a little laid back at first. He did have an impulsive and curious side that was kept hidden from most, and though he was likable, he had no close friends outside mere acquaintances.
His mother had died in childbirth, which wasn’t uncommon. His father had not been kind, to say the least, and had even beaten Duff several times, and there were no memories worth thinking about that he was in. He had left Duff with the smith who was now his master and guardian, Reld, and the kind gruff character was a wonderful change to Duff, who had eagerly put his past behind him. He earned his keep as well as some extra coins of his own, and was even allowed a few days off here and there.
And on a day like this one, Duff was very happy of that fact, and the exceptional weather seemed to put everyone in better spirits. The cold and wet seasons always lasted longer than the warm ones, and the few that they had were always good for trading, and the streets were always overcrowded and busy. Duff was happy to spend his day roaming and watching the people go by.