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    Nenfari: an Assassin's Flower novella
    Nenfari: an Assassin's Flower novella
    Nenfari: an Assassin's Flower novella
    Ebook100 pages1 hour

    Nenfari: an Assassin's Flower novella

    By Lionrhod

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    About this ebook

    At nineteen, assassin-in-training D'hara, is a disappointment to her parents, and especially herself.

    Without the mysterious "Change" that should have come at puberty, her father the Khalji cannot make her an advantageous marriage. Nor can she follow in the path of her mother, the High Assassin. Their line has held that title for eight generations. D'hara will break the chain if she does not become fully Assassin caste.

    In this city of political intrigue, cunning manipulation and betrayal, the only one D'hara can trust is her beloved born-for slave, Aldrar.

    Now, Aldrar's newborn infant is in peril, chosen for ritual sacrifice as the ghostly slave of another princess. D'hara must brave the wrath of the Prophet God's priests and the hazards of the city Below to save him.

    A dark Sword & Sorcery fantasy set in a violent world where poison and backstabbing prevail, Nenfari is the first story in the Assassin's Flower Series.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLionrhod
    Release dateMay 8, 2013
    ISBN9781301608430
    Nenfari: an Assassin's Flower novella
    Author

    Lionrhod

    A writer of fantasy and non-fiction metaphysics, Lionrhod (pronounced LION-rod as the h is silent) caught the writing bug at age 8. Inspired by her writer mother, she wrote an extremely lousy and highly plagiarized story about a pony. From there, she went on to focus on science fiction and fantasy as well as romance, and when she realized that she was a Witch, articles on Wicca and Magick. As an avid Dungeons and Dragon's player, she has written several articles for that sort of thing and one of her pieces was featured in a TSR module way back before they became Wizards of the Coast. She has also written for Green Egg.She tends to write slow, though that is changing!She has been a witch and wysard (yes we spell it funny) for most of her life. She works as a professional psychic and a teacher of metaphysics. When she isn't glued to the keyboard, she enjoys hiking in the woods, gardening, cooking and yak wrangling. She is presently working on creating a rescue for large breed dogs and for retired animals.

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      Book preview

      Nenfari - Lionrhod

      Nenfari

      An Assassin's Flower Series Novella

      by

      Lionrhod

      Copyright 2013 Lionrod

      All Rights Reserved

      Cover Design by Quantumystic

      * * * * *

      Smashwords Edition May 2013

      * * * * *

      Discover more books by Lionrhod at Smashwords.com

      * * * * *

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, trademarked products, events and locations are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

      For Janette

      How I wish I could have protected you.

      Table of Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Author's Notes and Acknowledgments

      About the Author

      More Books By Lionrhod

      Dark Moon Gates Sneak Preview Chapter 1

      DMG Chapter 2

      DMG Chapter 3

      DMG Chapter 4

      DMG Chapter 5

      Nenfari

      An Assassin's Flower Series Novella

      by

      Lionrhod

      Chapter One

      My weapons-instructor and I were about to exit the training arena when the elegant woman stepped from the shadows of the viewing stands.

      Ru'al Harani. Holding her veil so that it did not flap away from her face, the instructor bent in graceful obeisance, braid dragging in the sand, and I did likewise.

      The High Assassin merely waved a manicured hand, sending the scent of ripened fruits and musk floating towards me. Amber sunlight flashed from gems in the carved bone skull-and-spider ring that weighted one slender finger.

      I wiped my own hands on my tunic, leaving a grimy smear. The ever-present dust of the arena crusted my face, mixed with my sweat, making stiff streamers of my long black hair. Why did my mother always have this effect on me? Despite my nineteen turnings I felt like an awkward child. I tried to picture the High Assassin covered in the sweat and dirt of battle practice.

      It was impossible. Surely even in the throes of combat the Ru'al Harani Illistanirda would be fresh as a field of dawnstar flowers, her silks still crisp and unsullied.

      How long had she been watching? Had she seen me nearly disarmed of my weapon, or had I at least been spared that embarrassment?

      Illistanirda looked a question at the instructor, who made a handsign, imperceptible if one did not know what to look for. I braced myself for the inevitable question.

      D'hara, your instructors tell me that you still have not accomplished the Change. Is this true? Are you certain nothing has happened which is...different? Something you have failed to tell us about?

      No, revered mother. The signs I was to watch for have been absent. I have felt no nausea save when given that horrid medicine for the chill I caught last Dark season. I answered by rote. A trickle of sweat ran down my neck and beneath my collar, tracing a ticklish line to the small of my back. Nor have I felt dizziness even when chasing pigeons with Talil on the high minaret.

      You know that heights are forbidden whilst you await the Change, daughter! No mention that Talil, seven turnings old, should not have been there either. It irked me that they treated me more like a child than my younger brother. I drew a deep breath, refusing to shrink in the heat of the High Assassin's ire. Revered mother, please. It has been six turnings now since my thirteenth birthwake. What if I should never Change? Will you forbid me forever? And should this Change come over me, how shall I know if you won't tell me what it is?

      It is not discussed with the uninitiated. Trust you would know. She paced across the sands, lifting filmy skirts so they would not drag. When she again spoke, it was to the ghosts of her nenfaron, those infant males sacrificed for her birth. Straining to catch her words, I shivered. I never spoke to my own nenfaron, only half believed in their continued existence. Yet Illistanirda often seemed to be in communion with unseen presences and to receive information that even her vast network of spies could not have provided.

      I do not understand, she whispered. All but one of the girl's nenfar were males--a strong sign. The name of the d'har is not lightly given. Could the priests of Shagul have read the entrails wrong? She turned back to me, lifting my chin in long fingers. You have your father's eyes.

      I-- I spread my hands. I regret that I am a disappointment, revered mother.

      The High Assassin leveled a measuring stare and turned away. As she passed the instructor, she made a handsign which I did not know.

      We followed her from the arena. The field beyond was scattered with tents, all of indistinguishable black cloth. My instructor bowed to me and wended her way to her tent for her mid-waking meal. Only by its placement did she know which was hers, for the identities of both instructors and students were carefully shielded until the students Changed.

      I alone did not have to hide who I was. As the Ru'al Harani's daughter, such subterfuges would be cumbersome.

      As I watched, a litter borne by four slaves came through the gate at the far end of the field, its draperies expensive, but not ostentatious. I waited until they placed the litter on the ground before me. Stepping in, I drew the curtains tight and knelt among the cushions.

      Aldrar pushed herself up, made clumsy by the awkward weight of the childwealth. She busied herself with an assortment of pots. Her dusky face was painted, as it had been for many hands of days, with the red ocher spiral sacred to Eltanii. The effect still startled me, but beyond the paint, her eyes lit with familiar warmth.

      Aldrar, look at you, you are huge. You overwork yourself, I scolded my nenfari.

      We have had this argument for some months now. My born-for slave chuckled, laying a platter of succulent meats in front of me. Will you not name me victor? It was enough of a concession that I use this litter. She waved her hand at the draperies that curtained us. The priestesses of Eltanii say that activity will strengthen me. Nor do I trust any other to prepare your food.

      Prepare it then, if you must, I said, but have a slave bring it to me.

      She uncovered a dish of fruit. What slave have you that I may trust not to poison you?

      I flung up my hands. Only you. A smile tugged my lips. By the laws of nenfar, when a noble child was about to be born, the priests of Shagul chose ten common women near term to give birth to slaves for the noble one. Nenfar were not common slaves, however. Their status was far above that of a soldier or free tradesman. They answered only to the nobility and no one but the Khalji might punish another's nenfar. Nenfar could not be given away, nor sold. Who

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