Free King Of The North (Book 3) by Shawn E. Crapo

him, clouding his thoughts and his vision. Nothing made sense anymore, and now, he was even more bewildered.
    He sighed, letting his head fall into his palms. Alone in his bed-chamber, for the first time since his mother's death, he wept.
     
    Garret admired the beautiful blade that the Great Mother had given him. It was flawless; the handle was wrought in gold and platinum in the shape of a scorpion's tail, and its blade, curved and slightly wider at the tip, was etched with symbols of the Earth. It was perfectly balanced, lightweight, and its edge would never dull.
    He tested its performance, taking different stances and practicing several attacks while standing in front of a wall of mirrors. He could see an infinite number of his own image, as the room he occupied was octagonal, and each wall was a mirror. He could view himself from any angle, see where his attacks and defenses were weakest, and he would be able to improve his technique.
    He was dressed in only a pair of black trousers. The Great Mother had provided an entire ensemble of robes, leather armor, and other gear, but he felt more comfortable practicing in just his pants.
    He remembered being older, but, somehow, his body had been improved, he noticed. His muscles were toned and tightly corded, and his heart beat strongly and slowly. He was, in effect, twenty years younger. Even his face, and his formerly graying hair, were youthful again. His long, smooth, light brown locks were back, and his eyes were bright and clear. He looked to be a man in his mid to late thirties; the height of physical perfection. With this new body, he could perform any task that was required of him.
    Any task...
    That was his question; what tasks did the Great Mother need him to perform? Obviously, as an assassin, his duty would be to kill. But, surely, the Great Mother had other ways of killing mortal men. Why did she need him?
    Garret set his blade down on the table next to his clothes. He picked up the boots, admiring their craftsmanship. He slipped them on, feeling how supple and form fitting they were. As he buckled them, he noticed how quiet they were against the floor. With these boots, his stealth would be unmatchable. The tabard, which was a metallic mesh as flexible as cloth, was also perfectly fitted, silent, and well built. He slipped on the black tunic, tightened its leather belt, and donned the hooded cloak. He then slipped on the leather gloves that he had been provided. They, too, were form fitting, and felt as if he were wearing nothing on his hands.
    Surely these vestments were enchanted, he thought. The Great Mother was powerful beyond belief, and Garret had no reason to think that she would provide him with anything less than divine equipment.
    Garret , she spoke.
    "Yes, Great Mother?"
    Are you ready?
    Garret looked at himself in the mirror one more time, and strapped on his blade. "I am ready."
    The mirrored walls raised, revealing a cavern lit by thousands of tiny points of light. Their presence cast a faint, blue hue to the oddly shaped, black stone walls. He stood in the center, looking around, contemplating his whereabouts.
    You will be returned to the Earth. I will place you near your targets, and you will seek them out and eliminate them. I cannot kill them myself. For my only method of killing is through massive destructive forces. Do you understand?
    "I do," he said, fully understanding her predicament now.
    Your targets are traitors that have given their support to The Lifegiver, or who stand in the way of insurrection. Do you understand?
    "I do," he said again.
    When you have eliminated your targets, call upon me, and I will return you to the garden to rest. Do you understand?
    "I understand, and I am ready."
    Your first mark is King Adolus of Thyre. He has allowed the Jindala into his kingdom and his tyranny prevents his armies from standing against them. They are ready to rebel, but they are leaderless. Adolus' son, Tregar, hides in the underground,