The Silent Raven: The Paths of Sai'ja, #0.5

By O. T. Goldman

A thrilling tale of bloody knives, potent alchemy, and deadly magic.

Raven is the most lethal agent of the cabal of uniquely talented assassins called the Bloody Murder. He specializes in the elimination of high-affinity sorcerers, warlocks, witches, demons, and majestic beasts.

This contract is unlike any other. Raven is tasked with the elimination of an unknown target of unknown capabilities at an unknown location. The client? Equally enigmatic with the means to pay triple the Bloody Murder's exorbitant fee.

In this tale of deadly knives and high alchemy, Raven must set out across the unforgiving Djudeni desert alone, infiltrate the reclusive nation of Sai'ja without detection, and eliminate his target by any of the considerable means at his disposal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: O. T. Goldman
• Release date: Jan 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223633617

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Raven ascended the final rise and slowed his camel to a halt. The lone feature on the ochre sea of rolling sand was of the large rock formation—his destination.

He glanced back over his shoulder, toward the shimmering spires of Bhadestan against the horizon—largest of the Djudeni Free Cities—and considered turning back. It was the first time he’d ever felt anything close to hesitation about a potential contract. This was the first ever summons that went out to all members of the Bloody Murder, instead of the agent best equipped for the assignment.

Who was he kidding? It was for that very reason that he had answered the call. And that meant, of course, the contract would likely go to him, should he want it.

He adjusted his head covering to shield as much of the oppressive sun as possible, then kicked the restless camel back into motion, toward the sun-bleached rock formation. It would be another quarter bell or so before he reached the base of the formation. But he was used to the tricks of distance the desert played with the mind. He knew the desert better than any other terrain.

It was while circling the jagged perimeter that he first saw signs of another rider’s tracks and markings not yet claimed by the shifting sands. Even with most of the wind blocked by the rock formation, the sands would have claimed these tracks in just a few bells.

When he came to the pass, the narrow crack in the rock formation just wide enough for a single loaded camel, he brought a hand to the hilt of one of the twin daggers at his waist. It was more instinct than any real concern. The pass was all but invisible from anything beyond fifty paces away, even when one knew it was there. Besides, anyone fool enough to arrive uninvited would not have made it this far.

The high walls of the formation offered a natural protection from the sun, allowing him his first chance to get comfortable since the onset of his journey the day before. He undid the thin, tawny colored cloth he had wrapped around his head and draped over his body, folded it as neatly as he could while keeping control of the camel, and draped it across the back of the mount. During longer rides, he wore his black leather vest loose; it provided him more comfort. He then cinched the side and front straps tight, ran a hand over the rows of oiled throwing knives that ran down the front, and undid his bound hair, releasing his locs in a tumble down his back. It was as close to comfortable as he’d likely get.

The stone path branched off in several directions, but it was all a diversion. One could easily get lost for days in the branching corridors; most led to dead-ends, but some led to insidious traps that would deliver death without the unfortunate soul even knowing they’d doomed themselves.

But once the correct route was understood, it was embarrassingly simple to navigate. One only needed keep left at every split in the path. The way winded inward in concentric circles that led to a large clearing within the center of the stone formation. Raven rounded the corner and into the clearing, shielding his eyes from the glare of the exposed overhead sun.

Despite the exposed midday sky, the entire clearing was cast in pale blue from the light that shone down from massive crystal alchemical spheres that ringed the perimeter of the expanse, anchored to the very stone midway to the top of the high ridge. Thin wisps of vapor radiated from the tops of the orbs, and a thick layer of frost coated the thick brackets that cradled the bottom.

It was the blessed unnatural cooling that created the dramatic difference in terrain within the clearing. Lush grass, flowers with a dramatic array of color, and miniature trees of various species filled the expanse. It was a sight that struck awe, even for one that had made the journey many times. This oasis in the desert was, in truth, the only vegetation anywhere within the seven Sovereign Cities of Djuden.

He continued into the clearing where he discovered the source of the tracks along the outer perimeter of the rock formation. A lean camel rested on its belly atop the soft soil roughly twenty paces farther along the perimeter wall.

He dismounted with a grunt and walked his stout camel over to the other and tied reins go to the same post. The beast lumbered down to settle on its belly.

Raven gave a quick pat to the camel’s flanks in silent thanks to the beast, then turned and walked into the miniature forest, toward the center of the clearing where he would find the opening. He had been content to simply enter the roost and discover the details of the open contract, but then he heard it, the two quick taps of metal on metal, and his breath caught.

His body reacted on instinct, already changing direction and hurrying toward the sound even before he had processed what he had heard. He drew his daggers, and ever so lightly, brought the tips of the blades together in answer.

It didn’t take long to find her. He pushed through a dense patch of foliage to see Rook standing beside one of the many pools that populated the oasis. When she turned to him and they locked eyes, he froze, his mind numbed. They remained that way for a long moment, before she broke their gazes to lower her cowl.

She shook out her curtain of night black hair, releasing a cloud of fine sand, then tied it back with a knot of rope. She set her hands on her hips. I knew you’d come, Raven.

I… Raven struggled to find the words to respond. It was all too much. He felt more like an adolescent boy than the man of thirty summers. It was ever the same around her.

Come, she said, gesturing beside her.

Raven sheathed his weapons and made his way to the woman’s side. Spirits, how long had it been? Who was he kidding, he knew full well it had been three full summers since he’d seen her. Countless times he had thought of so much he would finally say, all that he had dared not to, if only he would have another opportunity to see her again.

Now, she stood right beside him, and he was at a total loss for words. All he could do was stare at her, noting the slight changes since the last time he saw her. Her hair was longer now and dyed back to her natural color. Her deep brown skin was darker, signifying she had spent a considerable amount of time in the field. She had filled in her blacks more than the last time he saw her, a fact he quickly moved beyond. Thankfully, there were no scars on her perfect face and no limits to the mobility or range of movement in her arms and legs. It was all the evidence he needed to know that she had managed herself well.

Even the way she now stood, confident and self-assured, she was not the same woman he had left. A touch of sadness washed over him at the loss of the woman he knew.

He pushed the thought from his mind and cleared his throat. Well, if I’m honest, you were the last person I thought I would see here. But the person I wanted to see the most. He wanted to say the thoughts aloud, but as ever, the words stuck in his throat. He let the moment pass and changed the subject. So, you have come in answer to the call?

She shook her head. I have come for you.

Raven blinked and looked around. It was the most direct either of them had ever been. Mind where we are, Rook.

She pulled off her black leather gloves and grabbed hold of his hands. He nearly pulled his hand free, but the look on her face was suddenly urgent and intense. Raven, do not accept this call.

I have to. He glanced around again, then stared back into her unwavering gaze. I’ll have to do this for us.

She shook her head. Just leave with me.

Leave?

She nodded, her demeanor calm and determined. Yes. Leave. Now. She released his hand and crossed her arms. For a fleeting moment, there was a flash of vulnerability on her face, but then it was gone.

Where could we go that Carrion and the rest of the Bloody Murder would not follow? Raven scratched at his thick, coarse beard that framed his face as he worked through the old problem. We would be hunted.

I am not worried about the others. And you are the best killer of us all. I doubt you are concerned.

A disturbance of leaves and brush signaled the arrival of another. They fell silent as they awaited the newcomer. It was the day for surprises it seemed, because it was Carrion himself that stepped into the clearing. His blacks were of fine cloth, loose and airy. The padded, embroidered vest gave him the refined touch Raven was used to of the old man. He wore no head or face covering, allowing his chalk white hair and neatly trimmed white beard to stand boldly against the deep black of his skin tone.

Carrion’s eyes slid from Rook to Raven, and then he smiled. It appeared a genuine gesture and eased the tension that surrounded the old