Trial by Poison, Chapter 4

Chapter 4
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Raven sat cross legged on the ground of her small campsite, staring at one of her saddle bags, which lay on the grass in front of her. It had been seven days since she had arrived at The Chosen's encampment, after spending two days traveling. The time since her arrival had been spent observing the cult and, more specifically, its leader, Talbot Foley. Now she believed she had enough information to successfully poison her target.

She had time to put her plan into action before the king's army would arrive. The army should have left seven days after she had and it would take them at least twice as long to travel the same distance. This meant she could expect them in no less than two days. Most assassins' missions only allotted a day or two of observation. The young assassin was glad she had the extra time; it had helped calm the anxiety she still felt over her first assignment.

Raven focused her mind on reviewing what she had learned about Talbot Foley. He was a very charming and charismatic individual; he needed to be, seeing as he was leading a cult to take over a kingdom. She had learned his title was "Minister," though how that helped her she was not sure. The cult leader had a fairly predictable schedule; every morning he would lead a sermon as the sun rose, which lasted nearly two hours. During breakfast he walked among his flock and blessed them, and between breakfast and lunch he held audiences with his followers. At lunch he ate his meal away from the crowd of believers. In his private pavilion afterwards he met with his lieutenants, or "Administers" as she learned they were titled, the ones who knew the religion was false. Before dinner he would again address his flock, making announcements and holding a worship service; then he would eat with the followers and retire to his pavilion. His rigid schedule would be helpful for Raven in her mission. Few things made an assassin's job easier than a target with predictable movements.

Foley's followers were completely loyal to him, which might become a problem if one of them saw the young assassin. There were very few women among them, which made it harder for Raven to blend in. Most of the followers were simple country folk from Thislaund's bordering kingdoms and had little to no experience with fighting. Very few had any real weapons, such as swords or spears, primarily being armed with pitchforks, sickles, and other farming tools, all of which could be used as a weapon but were no match against the king's army.

They also were not expecting an attack, being under armed and relatively few in number. Raven learned this after eavesdropping on one of Foley's meetings with his lieutenants. Their plan was to start converting the local farmers of Thislaund in the coming weeks, which would not be too difficult. This far from the capital, the locals' only dealings with the government came at tax time, which did little to evoke much loyalty from the people. A charismatic speaker such as Foley would be able to stir them up. The cult would steadily grow in numbers until it reached the main cities and there it would make its move to overthrow the king.

This fact was likely why the king was determined to wipe them out before they officially marched against him; he wanted to prevent them from converting anyone in his country. It made sense, if his people in one area rose up against him, others were likely to follow. Best to stop it before it got out of hand.

Raven opened her saddle bag and removed a small jar full of powdered henbane. The poison would induce hallucinations, violent and insane behavior, and seizures, to name a few of Raven's favorite symptoms. She had decided, since henbane was a contact poison, to lace Foley's gloves with the powder. The decision had been reached after the young assassin learned that the ornately embroidered silk gloves were considered "holy" in The Chosen's false religion. For them to be connected to Foley's insanity would stir doubt among the followers. The cult leader always wore the gloves when addressing his followers, so they were a reliable way to poison him.

As Raven had observed her target, she had kept Kyrik's instructions to find an evil omen at the front of her mind. After days of observation she had grown frustrated when she had found no such sign. She began to believe it did not exist.

Then, finally, she found it! The day before she had been spying on the evening announcements when two of Foley's Administers had dragged a man, struggling and shouting, to the stage. They had whispered something to the cult leader and handed him a folded piece of cloth, then stood aside, the man still securely between them. Foley had turned to his followers with a grave look on his face.

"This man," he had said in a strong voice that carried over the crowd. "This man has displayed the Vomica, the cursed mark, on his tent! He wishes to ruin us all!" He unfurled a torn piece of tent canvas which had a circle with a line all the way through it displayed in black paint. At his words and the revealing of the cursed symbol the crowd gasped in shock.

The man thrashed around, trying to break the other men's grips, but to no avail. "It's not true! He is untrue! It's all false! Everything he's said is a lie! His teachings are fal-" bellowed the man.

At a nod from Foley, the two underlings had gagged the man with a strip of cloth, cutting off his shouting.

"We must not let the words of the Fallen shake our faith. This man has brought the Vomica among us and with it a gateway for the Evil Spirits. He must be put to death!" announced Foley. The superstitious crowd had yelled their assent.

The condemned man's eyes had bulged and his face went red. He redoubled his efforts to break away as a particularly burly Administer had approached with a double sided ax. The closer the ax man got, the louder the crowd's cheering grew and the more the man struggled.

Raven did not watch the beheading. A part of her regretted that she could not spare the man, but the other part of her, the part that housed Kyrik's training, knew that she could not compromise her mission to save the life of someone not even from her own county. "Only kill those who are necessary to kill and don't take the life of a civilian if it can be helped," Kyrik had told her once then added, "We take lives to save lives. Remember that." So it did not sit quite right with her to watch Foley have a man murdered for realizing he had been tricked. Raven was sure the condemned man had been about to tell the crowd that Foley had lied to them about the religion. He had known the cult was false.

But in death the man had helped her; she had found her omen like Kyrik instructed.

After the man had been beheaded and his remains and the tent cloth burned, Foley had held a prayer meeting and additional sermon on the evils of the Vomica mark. He claimed the mark opened a door for evil spirits from the underworld to wreak havoc among the weak minded and lead them away from their cause.

Raven suspected that the evil symbol was just an excuse to execute anyone who questioned Foley's teachings or, worse yet, discovered the deception. Now it was time to turn his "cursed mark" against him. She would have to be careful to make the mark subtle, however; it might not work in her favor to make the Vomica blatantly obvious, such as painting it on Foley's tent, which could cause his followers to become suspicious. The mark would have to be obvious enough that it would be noticed yet still look like the cult leader had accidentally opened a portal for evil spirits.

Taking a deep breath, Raven pushed herself up off the ground. She gathered the jar of poison and a pair of her assassins' gloves, leather gloves specially treated to prevent the wearer's contact with poisons, and tucked them securely into a pouch on her belt. The young assassin pulled her cloak around her as she walked over to her horse.

"It's time for me to go, Amica. I've got to get there before dark and I can't bring you with me this time," she said softly, resting her face against the horse's forehead. Raven planned on lacing Foley's gloves that night, to insure Foley would start to unravel in time for the morning's sermon. She had to be close by to make sure everything happened as planned. The young assassin was not comfortable leaving her horse that close to the encampment where she might be discovered. The young assassin patted her horse's neck and backed away.

"Stay here," Raven instructed. Amica tossed her head in recognition of the order.

Raven took one last look around her small camp to make sure she had not forgotten anything before she disappeared into the trees, her heart racing with anticipation at the thought of her task.