In Pursuit Of Wisdom (Book 1) by Steve M. Shoemake Read Free Book Online Page A

with you about your…potential.”
    “Who are you?” she repeated, narrowing her eyes as she took another step toward her table.
    “I am many things.  But today, I am a guide.  You have two choices, Veronica.  You can stay here, alone, and wait until someone more powerful comes along with eyes for your food, your sheep, your new home.  These pathetic villagers mind their own business for the most part, but it will not take long for word to spread that this house, once owned by a man with four armed slaves, is now defended by a young woman by herself.  I give you about a week.”  He smiled, and Veronica couldn’t tell whether he was mocking her or not.  “And please don’t insult me by arming yourself with that table knife.”  He drew a long, beautiful dagger from his hip that she just now noticed.  “If I had wanted you dead, it would be done already.”  Samir put his knife away as quickly as he drew it.
    She stopped and crossed her arms, looking at Samir.  “And my second choice, as you see it?”
    “Come with me.  I am an emissary for the Assassin’s Guild, and with training, you could earn enough gold to buy twenty homesteads, all more glorious than this hovel.  For we live in a Dark World, and our business is booming…”
     
    ***
     
    That had all been three years ago.  Samir had gotten himself killed a year ago trying to complete a contract, and other emissaries replaced him.  But he did introduce Veronica to the Assassin’s Guild, or the Black Guild as some called it.  The current Master of the Guild was an old killer named Silverfist, or Silver for short.  Many who knew him simply called him Master.  He was half-Elven, and had the woodsy, reddish-brown skin and dark hair common to all Elves.  Though his hair was streaked with grey, it was remarkably still mostly black, and he looked like he could easily move back into the field to execute contracts if he wished.  Running the Black Guild seemed to suit his purpose.
    “Wine?” he asked, pouring himself a glass as he seated himself across from Veronica.  He was tall, a bit more muscular than most Elves (‘taking after my human father’ he would occasionally admit proudly when someone —usually a lady—commented on his physique).  Wealthier than most royalty, he dressed simply.  Fine clothing, to be sure, but simple.  A plain yellow shirt, brown trousers, a wide belt—nothing too ostentatious.  But the cloak he wore, if one examined closely, would offer a clue about his status.  It was a fine, soft cloak that clearly wasn’t meant for travelling.  It was a deep green indoor cloak, meant to conceal everything if needed.  Miranda and Belinda had been making his clothes for years, and had all the secret pockets sewn right where he wanted.
    “Yes.  Thank you, Master,” Veronica answered. She stood up and accepted the glass, bowing her head slightly.  She returned to her seat.
    Silverfist swirled the dark red liquid in a simple but fine glass, watching its legs briefly stick to the inside of the goblet before regathering at the bottom.  He sipped it.  “Excellent.  Cherry, with lots of spice.  The incense in our room adds a bit to the flavor, I think.”
    Veronica took a sip.  It was a ridiculous luxury —one that she could grow accustomed to.  Saying nothing, she smiled and nodded, then took another sip.
    “So.  Here we are, Veronica.  You are on the cusp of greatness, I believe.  I’ve run the Guild for forty years, and spent just as much time before that in the field.  You can be special, and your talent has not escaped notice.”
    “I have done my best to learn everything you and other Masters have sought to teach me.  I’m glad to hear that you think I’m doing well.”  Veronica didn’t blush easy, but this was high praise indeed, and she felt her cheeks flushing.  Probably the wine.
    “And so we are down to our third and final test.  The test of a Master.  Some call it a True Assassin, but