Page 44 of War Mage

I roll my eyes, even though I’m not certain that he can tell in the dark. “Can I not bask in my victory for a moment before you turn into a taskmaster again?”

“We cannot risk you not being able to open the lock when the time comes. What if it’s dark? What if there is distracting noise? What if there’s a crush of bodies around you and you aren’t able to get into an optimal angle? Picking this lock must be second nature to you. So, unfortunately, there is no time for basking, just practice.”

I grumble under my breath, but I know that he has a point. Truly, I’m glad to have the distraction of lock-picking practice to keep my mind occupied. Otherwise, I would be thinking about what is going to happen to Urim when the caravan stops and what will happen tomeshould he not survive the encounter. The methodical picking of the lock keeps my mind from spiraling and makes me feel like I’m doing something productive.

Another hour passes before I’m able to consistently open the lock in the dark in under a minute. Urim watches me go and murmurs occasional suggestions on how to go faster.

“Is this not fast enough?” I ask him exasperated. “I am much faster than I was.”

Silently, the orc reaches over and takes the wires from me. He deftly inserts them and barely moves his hands as he digs in. With that tell-tale soft click, the lock opens.In seconds.

“Alright,” I mutter. “I suppose that I could be faster.”

“It is imperative that you are not caught when you start removing the iron cuff,” Urim says. “The faster you can pick the lock, the less chance any guards have of noticing and taking your tools away before you can finish. If we had more room, I would have you practice taking out the wires, crouching down, and picking the lock again and again until you could do it in one fluid motion. But we will work with what space we have and you will get so that you can pick the lock as fast as I can.”

“You’ve had years of practice,” I grouse. “Both as a thief and a spy. How can I get as fast as you in less than a week?”

“We all adapt to our circumstances or we die,” he says, matter-of-factly. “You have survived this long, despite the odds that have been against you. You can survive this. But only if you practice and have confidence.”

“You were not thrown into deep waters on your first mission, I wager,” I retort.

“We are all thrown into deep waters on our very first mission,” he responds gravely. “Nothing can truly prepare you for being in danger when the stakes are high.”

“What was your first mission?” I ask curiously. “After you became an agent of the Crown and not just a street thief?”

“I cannot tell you details,” he says, “as it is confidential information.”

“Oh, come on,” I scoff. “Who am I going to tell? And did I not tell you about my past? Fairness would say that it is your turn.”

“Life is not fair,” Urim says. “Only the ignorant think otherwise.”

“Call me ignorant then,” I say, raising my brow challengingly. “But you know that I’m right.”

The orc is quiet for a few moments, then sighs. “I suppose you are correct. But I will have your word that you will not speak to others about this.”

“Alright, you have my word,” I say graciously, even though I have no other options if I want to hear the story. Which I do.

“It was an assassination,” he says finally. “Like this one, but perhaps a touch safer.”

“A touch?” I ask sardonically. “Were you targeting just a regular demon, then?”

“Alright,” he acquiesces. “Muchsafer, though the target was dangerous in her own right. The target was actually the head of the ka Grishna before Vargan. An orcress pirate named Tarka. Tarka was banished and branded, but she had gathered the rest of her clan and taken them to Terria. Kept them together and united, even though they had been shamed and separated when they were banished. It was she, not Vargan, who negotiated their citizenship to Terria, and used clan wealth that she’d managed to smuggle out to buy land and build a slave business. But Tarka was angry, very angry, at Orik for the banishment and punishment of her entire clan. She began targeting Orikesh transports and taking the crews captive and selling what was once her own people as slaves. This was an affront to our people and a direct flaunting of her banishment. Tarka wanted to show that she could do what she wanted and take her revenge. She thought that since she was now a citizen of Terria that she was safe from consequences. But she was wrong and her arrogance made her a target of the old King’s Shield, under whom I trained.”

“That seems like a lower target for an assassination,” I remark. “Couldn’t your navy have just sunk her ship?”

“That would have taken time to locate her ship on the high seas. Time where she could escalate her actions and make a reputation for herself. The King’s Shield wanted to avoid her deeds becoming widely known in Orik,” Urim replies. “He worried that she would become a symbol of hope and rebellion to the Honorless and a reason for the clans to question whether the old king, Rognar’s father, could protect them and their freedom. A quiet assassination before she became a bigger problem was called for. I had just finished my training and he selected me to dispatch her.”

“Were you cocky about being chosen?” I ask, remembering his past description of his younger self.

His head shakes in the dark, outlined by the moonlight filtering through the wagon’s canvas cover. “That had been trained out of me. I had spent some time with the warrior monks of the Durgash Mountains, those dedicated to combat worship of the Father God, as part of my training as an agent of the Crown. They showed me the path of stoicism and the folly of emotional thinking. How to use calm logic to adapt to new situations and take things as they really are.”

“But they couldn’t completely train out your arrogance?” I ask, not being able to resist needling him.

“No, I suppose not,” he replies and I snort at his matter-of-fact response. It’s not as fun to needle him when he just agrees with me. He continues, “Anyway, I knew that this mission was the Shield’s way of testing me. He was seeing if the prince’s chosen for the agents of the Crown was actually worth the effort of his training, especially since most agents are selected as children to be trained, so I came into their ranks relatively late in life. I knew that he had chosen me, a novice trainee, for this mission, not because it wasn’t important, but because it was dangerous to go after an experienced pirate, and if I was caught and killed he’d be free of the burden Rognar had dumped on him. If I succeeded, however, I would prove my mettle and he’d be able to take credit for the kill anyway. It was a situation where he could only win.”

“At your expense,” I say, feeling a little indignant on Urim's behalf. To know that you are being used as expendable is a terrible feeling.

“It was a logical, strategic move on his part,” the orc says, not sounding particularly upset. “I have made moves like it since I became the Shield. Sometimes you must view creatures as part of a bigger whole and can’t afford to see them as individuals. But I was determined to live through my first assignment, regardless of the odds stacked against me. I tracked Tarka down, intercepting communiques that indicated that she was taking a large shipment of slaves to Turin. I got to the port before her and laid in wait for her at an establishment that she favored.”

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