Death's Hitman

Chapter Seventeen

As the story wove it's way through his thoughts, Hitman listened rapt, his eyes watching Hope's face the whole time, seeing her smile as she remembered the love she had had for him from the moment he saved her life as a girl. And he remembered. He remembered walking along the banks of the river. It had been a beautiful day and he had felt the urge to head outdoors after being cooped up working with his father all morning. As he walked along he heard voices on the other side of the bank and paused to look across, seeing a young girl of maybe sixteen with an older woman and the arrogant son of the lord of the castle. He had been of noble blood himself and had spent many a night in the home of the boy, who was around fifteen or sixteen. There appeared to be some sort of disagreement between the boy and the girl, he could see the woman standing between them at one point, trying to placate the young lord. Rolling his eyes he went to head on his way but then stopped at the sound of a startled cry. Looking back he saw the lord standing on the banks of the river, fury in his stance and the woman on her knees at the side of the water, crying out the girl's name. He rushed back and without thinking stripped off his shirt and cloak and dived into the freezing waters, retrieving the girl before she drowned.

He remembered undressing her, his thoughts only on getting her warm and dry and her mother suddenly being at his side. He had promised them sanctuary in his home and taken them back to the manor house with him. His parents had been happy to accommodate them, especially after hearing what the young lord had done. In fact his father had gone in person to tell the young lord's father what had happened. After that he had spent as much of his time as he could with the girl and gradually they had fallen in love. He remembered the first time he had kissed her, tentatively on the lips and the first time they made love when he took her under a tree in an open meadow and she softly moaned his name. But then the awful memories of his parents forcing a betrothal on him to an older lady from a neighbouring earldom hit him and he remembered that Hope had gone in the middle of the night. He had grieved all through his wedding and in subsequent years he never did learn to love, becoming a bitter and unkind husband to a woman whose only wrongdoing was not being Hope.

The next time he met her he had known immediately that she was the girl he would marry. He remembered walking into that shop, craving an apple and the shy girl at the counter who served him, her green eyes twinkling with kindness, her long auburn hair glinting in the sunlight which filtered through the windows. The day he finally plucked up the courage to invite her to join him for a walk along the banks of the river he had probably bought his body weight in apples. He remembered them walking together and talking about every topic that came into their heads. They had met every day in the square and sat at an outside table sipping tea and eating little sandwiches cut into triangles while they talked. They had talked a lot and he knew he had found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. When they weren't together he would buy her gifts, trinkets that she would exclaim over with delight and then give him chaste kisses. He had even purchased a small house for them to live in once they were married, taken her to see it.

He remembered the first time he kissed her properly on the mouth, expecting her to slap his face, but she had responded, pulled him behind a wall so that they could continue their exploration of one another unhindered. They found pleasure in finding secret places where they could enjoy their trysts unhindered and he was deeply in love with her. Finally he found the courage to propose and was delighted when she accepted but he was keen to do things properly and so sought permission from her father. She tried to explain it would be difficult to do this but he was determined,

Something changed though. She still came to him, but she looked tired, dark shadows appearing under her eyes. He had feared the worst even then and so the day she came to break things off with him, he almost expected it.  But it didn't stop him from being furious. He remembered he had accused her of playing with his emotions and when she tried to draw him away, to talk to him alone he had been aggressive, shouted at her. But then he remembered seeing a tall man approaching; there had been something odd about him. His eyes appeared orange as he came close and his finger tips seemed to burn. Thinking him some kind of novelty act, he had looked away and as he did so saw another man approaching, this one with eyes that flashed green and purple. A feeling of trepidation ran through him and he went to speak, but then Hope suddenly swung him away from the first man and he felt something hit her so hard that they both stumbled, with her falling on top of him. All of the light seemed to die from her eyes in that moment, but before he could speak to ask if she was ok, another hand touched him and a feeling like ice went through his veins. Hope reached up a hand and then she leaned up, breathing hard into his face. A feeling of intense grief went through him and then everything faded to black.