Tall and black of skin, muscles bulging through scale-studded furs, bright blue sun glistening off large ebony arms, bald head reflecting mid morn light entering through stone-lined window. Friendly smile upon the big man's face, right arm resting lightly upon the magically-runed sword kept safely strapped within the sheath at his side. Careful regarding eyes, gazing down upon the new recruit before him.
"Well, we certainly can use the man-power, " Baldegron nodded, "especially experienced help such as your own. What rank did you say you held in your last employ?"
The dark-faced man brushed back a lock of dark hair with a wave of his hand, a humble expression creasing its way across his stubble-covered chin. His eyes showed just slight eagerness, as if ever ready to be of service, as he gave answer.
"I was a full captain, sir, " came his not-quite-deep not-quite-gravely voice, "but it was in a rather small army. In such an army as that which you lead, I would expect nothing more than lieutenant."
Baldegron looked the man up and down as he stood there at attention in front of him. Baldegron walked slowly back to the iron-wood desk of his small office before swiftly turning around on heel to face the dark-haired man once again.
"Lieutenant it shall be then, my good Mister Gormal, " Baldegron gave him a good-natured slap on the shoulder, "you'll be assigned under Captain Starke. How soon can you start?"
"Immediately, if it would please you sir."
"Please me it would, " Baldegron smiled. "Consider yourself in the King's Army then. The sergeant will show you where to report to."
"Thank-you, General Baldegron, " the dark-haired man nodded, "I shall serve to the best of my abilities."
"Sergeant, " the large man called out, "show this man to Captain Starke's regiment. Okay, who's next?"
As the next potential officer stepped up to Baldegron, the sergeant led the dark-haired unshaven man away through the barracks and down and out into the open orain-colored skies of Th?r Glomd?ita?or. They walked across the early spring morning, tall white towers shining around them, the sergeant making small-talk about Captain Starke's growing abilities as a leader, while other troops bustled about them. The dark-haired man ignored the sergeant's ramblings as he thought to himself; thought about the master which he loyally served.
Inwardly, he smiled.
Oh, he served a master all right, but not that fool of a King for which he'd just been recruited. No, the lord he served was of a darker, much more sinister heart.
Darker, even, than this assassin's own.
BOOK I:
The Map