N.B. -- Check out chapter 3 right here.

It has been three months since I took the count’s child under my tutelage. It was far harder a chore than I had expected but, given the youth’s lack of freedom from the dreary keep, he had little else to do for entertainment and he took to the training like a starved mutt to food. Another circumstance that was to my advantage was the lack of relationship between the child and his father. Though under normal circumstances such a relationship would be nothing to celebrate, when it comes to me it means that the child could be spared. And he certainly would be spared for, while practicing his reading and history lessons, I was sneaking in lessons of good will, honesty, and favor toward the common folk. I grew more and more confident that he would be a suitable heir to his father’s estate.

“’When an individual is sufficiently compensated for effort, they are more inclined to work with efficiency. And an individual in a prosperous environment is more likely to rear a healthy next generation of workers.’ So Mister Jene, this means that my father has really been running things backward? If only he would listen.” The young lord said to me as he finished reading one of his assignments. He really was growing quite bright.

“Yes,” I said “It is unfortunate. Things could be much better here if only he would. But that’s why it is so refreshing that you will listen. One day this will all be yours to manage and I am sure you will do well lad. Now ready yourself for bed. You are done for the day. You did well.” I tucked him in and smothered the candle in his room before slipping out.

Spring was drawing near and tomorrow would be the day to strike. A dire boar was spotted in the wood and the count was forming a hunting party to leave in the morn to hunt it down for his glory. There actually was no such boar. Just some well placed rumors crafted by myself. But it would put the count out in the open and vulnerable.

Morning came and I bid the count good hunting at breakfast. Then he headed off with his party on horseback and I snuck off to a corner of the cellar to retrieve my disguise. It consisted of a dark brown cloak with a hood and a scarf to go across my face. I slipped out a cellar window and into the brush. I then slowly made my way to where the trap was set. The trap was merely a spear loaded into a makeshift arbalest set to launch across an area of brush to make it seem like something big ran that way. As expected, the count fell for it and, lucky day for me, left his guard retinue behind in his excitement. A single click of the trigger of my crossbow and the bolt hit its mark: Right in the count’s throat. He didn’t even get a chance to scream, and his horse did not even mind the lifeless master on its back. It would be some time before his guards caught on to what happened. And that bought me time.

Now to flee back to the keep and lay out my alibi. Not that anyone would expect the weakling educational advisor of being an assassin.