Free Savage by Robyn Wideman

eighteenth step, the second assassin who’d been following the merchant up the street stopped at the corner of the alley, blocking any possible escape. The third assassin would be in the exact same position on the far end of the alley. By the twentieth step the first assassin would now be on the ground, snaking his way along the alley wall until he was directly behind the merchant. At the twenty-third step, the last step the merchant would ever make, the fourth and final assassin would step out of the shadows and stick a stiletto into the merchant’s ribs, angled up to penetrate his heart. The first assassin would cover the merchant’s mouth, ensuring no sound left the alley.
    Jasper strained his ears, trying to hear any sounds of the deadly attack, but none came. The assassins had done their job. By morning, the merchant’s body would be in pieces, spread out over a hundred miles of desert. It was complete overkill, any mindless thug could’ve dealt with the merchant, but Jasper was weaving a masterpiece and to leave even one thread in the hands of an amateur would not be acceptable. Piece by piece, supporter by supporter, Jasper was destroying Prince Valentine, shrouding him in a blanket of terror, making all of the prince’s supporters wonder who was next. It was a complex and dangerous venture, waging war against the most powerful man in the kingdom, but Jasper’s employer had incredibly deep pockets and was willing to spare no expense in the terror campaign. Jasper originally had thought simply killing the prince would be sufficient, but now that he was implementing his employer’s plan, he saw the beauty of it. The attacks against the business ventures of the prince, and anyone associated with him, along with the seemingly random deaths of known supporters of the prince, created more fear than any simple murder ever could. No one aside from Jasper knew who would be next to die, or whose business would be destroyed.
    The merchant his men were now dismembering wasn’t rich, powerful, or important. His only mistake was being a vocal supporter of Prince Valentine. His disappearance was just another step towards destroying the prince.
     

9
    DRAISHA
    DRAISHA was just as Bazur remembered, hot and muggy with a sickly sweet smell. Compared to the badlands, and his old village of Lagvon, the city of Draisha was a sea of humanity. Each time Bazur visited, it seemed he’d never seen so many people in one place before. It was a lively and dangerous city known for its brothels and other sources of entertainment. Bazur knew many men from Draisha that came out to Pera in hopes of seeing him fight. It was a city that lusted for entertainment of all shapes and forms.
    One thing Bazur found strangely comforting was that it seemed the larger the crowd of humans, the less they looked at an individual. In the badlands, everyone noticed Bazur was half-orc. Here, with a simple cape, he was practically invisible. Strangers walked by him without giving him the slightest bit of attention. The odd one noted him for his large size and would make an effort to walk a little wider around him than they did others, but almost no one really looked under his hood. They were too busy with their own lives to note one new stranger in a sea of strangers.
    After arriving at the Yawning Bear Inn and getting Bazur checked into a room of his own, Kyra had taken off to take care of some of her own business. It seemed strange to Bazur that Kyra lived in an inn, but her explanation of her living arrangement had been logical. Property in Draisha was expensive. Kyra traveled often so having a simple suite in the inn simply called the Inn, was all she needed. Bazur believed Kyra also liked the fact she could leave the Inn on a moment’s notice and not look back. Being a thief always meant there was a risk of becoming a fugitive. Kyra was smart and took great care to limit her risks, but the very nature of her business guaranteed there would always be a risk