Beinn 3.9
They stared at each other, each breathing heavily, each gathering energy for the final encounter. Duilach knew he could kill Massoud. Yes the foreigner was highly skilled, one with far more depth than even those who knew him realized. It was of course one of the reasons he was marked for death. Still, Duilach knew that at this range he could kill this one. At this range only a highly trained assassin like himself would stand a chance in the upcoming encounter. “Massoud, I am going to kill you.”
Massoud knew who he was facing. Everyone knew Duilach. Pieces of a puzzle that had been hidden to his view began to fall into place in his mind as the impact of this knowledge struck home. His mind was racing and he couldn’t quit breathing heavily. Perhaps the arrow had struck his lung, or perhaps it was the effect of his body beginning to go into shock. Time was running out though, he had the feeling that if this didn’t end soon it would end badly. His left hand was now all but useless. True they were both wounded, but he didn’t want to undergo any prolonged encounter with a trained assassin. Massoud knew his own skill was not insignificant, but this was something to either end quickly or . . . His train of thought was interrupted by the threat from Duilach. “Your skill is great Duilach,” he instantly replied, “of that there is no doubt, and while I cannot match you I feel quite certain I can end your life tonight even as you end mine.”
In response Duilach pulled two dirks out from his coat, one long and one short, holding one in each hand, demonstrating that while wounded he was still quite capable of close encounter combat. “I think not foreigner.”
Massoud noticed that while he was holding a blade in each hand, something that was most impressive with the wound he had received, the one in his left hand was wavering slightly. It was encouraging, but not overly so. Massoud decided in this instant to play the one card he had that would not require combat. He noticed blood starting to soak both their shirts and it reminded him that time was quickly running out. “Perhaps you are right Duilach. Perhaps. But there is one thing you should know. Tristan hired you.” Massoud knew this to be true. He saw by the hesitation in Duilach’s step that he was listening. Breathing a sigh of relief that made him cough he continued. “What you don’t know is that the High Lord Lugus, the one who tasked Tristan with hiring you, also took out a contract on you. Killing a foreigner as visible as I cannot go unpunished. Someone must pay for the deed. You’re being set up.”
“You are lying,” Duilach said coldly, as he began to move slowly to the right, seeking to get position on the foreigner. Too much talk was never a good thing. This one wasn’t begging though, he was trying to beguile him. His instinct was to end this now but for some reason he found himself hesitating.
Massoud knew his knowledge was true. He had heard it from a trusted source. He knew Duilach had been hired and a contract taken out of the assassin, he just didn’t know who the mark was. It was therefore a cruel twist of fate that it turned out to be himself. The impact was of course significant and if he were to survive the evening he may be able to turn this to his advantage. “Am I,” he replied? “Then how can you explain why you have been followed. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?” This was a guess, but if his knowledge was in fact true, surely Duilach would have noticed.
Duilach stopped moving and stared directly at Massoud, the blades of his knife slowly dropping.
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