Velo's cough

Violence and language:

I.

Velo held his breath, not because of nerves (no, this is an act he executed with precision dozens of times in the last several years), but because of the nagging, persistent dry cough building in his lungs. And a cough, no matter how quiet right now, might lead to mission failure, and possibly even his death, something he desperately tried to avoid. His mark stood mere feet away, and his customer requested a spectacular sight, one that would harden the hearts of others and prevent similar situations. Velo understood exactly why he crouched behind this man; the man was a cheat, liar and bragged too much, things his customer detested in his minions.

Velo sprang from his position behind the rock wall, grabbed the man’s hair and pulled back his head, exposing the vulnerable neck arteries and wind-pipe. With his other hand, Velo quickly sliced his favorite Damascus blade across the neck from left to right, while letting out his cough (causing him to slightly jerk his blade up towards the chin, but he quickly angled it downwards.) The mark also coughed (and gurgled), but his cough splattered and sprayed blood on the ground. Velo held the man’s hair back and slightly turned him left and right, causing the blood to spray wildly, until he kicked the back of the man’s knee, causing him to fall forward as Velo let go of his hair.

Velo coughed again and this time, he didn’t need to hold it in. The man slowly turned his eyes to see who attacked him, even knowing his life was forfeit, and Velo saw his eyes widen in recognition. Velo coughed again, then nodded to his cousin and pulled the hammer from his belt. The hammer rose and fell a number of times, spilling blood, bone and brain on the street. Finally, Velo stood and looked at his ‘statement’, nodded again, dropped the hammer and turned away, heading back to the bar.

II.

“Another one last night according to this morning’s paper” Ruger quipped.

“Excuse me?” Velo asked as he cleaned the wooden bar top.

“Another killing last night. Here’s what they say…

’The City’s Morning Watch discovered another bloodied body this morning atop the cobblestone street in the Lower Grove Market area of the city. This is the seventh victim in the last four months in the Market area. Different from the other six victims, the seventh victim’s identified will not be possible due to the mangled face left destroyed by a hammer found next to the victim. Authorities continue to look for leads and question witnesses, but so far, no credible evidence links the brutal murders to a suspect (or suspects) and authorities caution people to not travel alone at night.’

Velo looked at the article, quickly coughed, shock his head back and forth and said “Glad I never go over to the Market area…too dangerous for a sick old barkeep like myself.”

“You’re as fit as a horse my friend and you’re not old, just weathered, well except for that cough. How long now?”

“About a month, and I can’t shake it.”

“Well, with a normal crowd in here you can’t hear your cough so I’m sure no one knows and no one cares.”

Velo chuckled at Ruger’s statement. “You know I have a life outside of this bar, right? There are other people that might care besides my bar’s patrons.”

The bell on the bar’s back door jingled and Velo left before Ruger could continue the discussion. Once in the back room, he saw his partner Feldr hanging his cloak on the peg.

“Our Benefactor is happy with last night’s results.”

“Good, I tried to make it as gruesome as possible. He wanted a message; I sent a message…no one better get out of line again. There is no mistake about that message.”

Velo coughed again. Feldr looked at him hard.

“That cough is getting out of hand. He wants you to fix it otherwise you are not going to be useful to him.”

“I’m fine. It hasn’t impacted anything I’ve done, nor will it impact anything in the future so he can rest easy.”

Again, Feldr looked hard at Velo, realizing time was not his friend anymore.

III.

A large crowd packed the bar ten nights later. The initial buzz of the seventh murder died down and most people started to forget about the butcher (or butchers) on the loose. Both men worked the patrons, pulling in as much silver as possible and pouring as little alcohol in mugs and glasses as they could get away with. They loved the foam on beer, it kept them from filling the mugs to the top, increasing their profits.

Velo noticed one particular patron next to the bar, the messenger, his Benefactor’s go-between, standing in the middle of the bar, indicating either man could take the mission. Velo looked at Feldr, noticed his partner did not see the messenger yet, and walked over (turning away from the bar and quietly coughing while he walked.)

“Can I help you, my friend?”

“I feel the need for a mug of beer tonight, Barkeep.” 

Beer, the notice of a normal assignment; mug (with out a clarifying word, like tall, or cold), indicating a no-rush assignment (so planned properly); Barkeep, not Sir, indicating just get it done, no overarching message needed. 

Velo turned, grabbed a mug, filled it and placed it back on the counter and held out his hand.

“2 copper pieces, my friend.”

The messenger rummaged through his leather bag, pulled out some coins, dropped four objects into Velo’s hand and took his mug to a table away from the bar.

Velo put all four objects into his right pocket for later.

IV.

After the bar closed, Velo pulled the four objects out of his pocket and examined them, three gold pieces and a tiny scroll of paper. He dropped the gold back in his pocket for now, unrolled the scroll and read two words, well, a name actually. He knew the name, a City Guard Captain. The Benefactor felt scared he thought…he wanted to hit the City Guard investigating the murders.

Feldr walked over and looked at Velo and asked “An interesting one?”   

“A City Guard Captain.”

Feldr’s right eye cocked up.

“You up to it or do you want me to handle it? I’ll split the fee, you can keep the half already delivered since you received the note, no worries. I can get it done tomorrow night when the Captain is on his way back to the garrison after he reviews the night guard formation.”

Velo’s mouth tightened. “No, I got it, no need to worry.” And then he held his breath as he turned to hang up his apron, fighting back a cough he didn’t want Feldr to hear. He did agree with Feldr on the timing; tomorrow night, after the night guard review. It was early in the week (most of the other missions occurred later in the week) and no one would notice Velo’s absence from the bar since the bar was closed. 

V.

Velo walked between the front gate and the garrison, looking to find the right spot for the mission. His cough rose every few minutes, but he didn’t care right now, as long as it stayed away later. But he knew the nagging cough’s persistence meant his missions days drew to a close soon. Maybe a few more? But how to get out and stay alive? The Benefactor feared people knowing his crimes, and Velo know almost all of them. He needed to find a way out of the city without any of the Benefactor’s minions knowing and get far away. He understood years ago to save most of the fees he earned and not spend foolishly, in fact, he thought of it as “Fuck you” money. If a time ever came that he didn’t want to do a mission, he could say “Fuck you” and get out. If something happened to the bar, he could say “Fuck you” and walk away. If the Benefactor found his head in a noose, Velo could say “Fuck you” and leave the city to find a new benefactor. Plus, not spending the money helped prevent undue attention on a ‘simple barkeeper’ that could never afford a lavish lifestyle.

Yes, Velo knew his time was nearly done, but he had enough to get out and start a new life. 

Maybe just a couple more he thought.

As he walked, he failed to notice someone following him, watching what he did, where he went, when he stopped, how much he coughed.

VI.

Velo stood in the shadows along the path between the garrison and the front gate. This particular spot involved a turn, near a few businesses that only opened during the day, thus no one milled about at night. The Captain’s typical path crossed through the shadow, right past Velo’s hiding spot.

Perfect, just what I thought this afternoon, he will not see me until it is too late. Now I just sit and wait…and try not to cough.

That last part did not work well. His lungs constricted and exploded several times, and he contained as much noise as possible. 

Get it out now…the Captain is still a few minutes away…get through the cough.

Velo tried something new as he lifted a water flask and drank.

His chest quieted, for now.

He slowed his breathing and focused on the path to his left, where the Captain’s path intersected his sight.

The world seemed quiet…the only noise came from a few streets over.

He lifted his flask again, taking a small sip to keep his lungs quiet.

His eyes shifted left and right, looking for the Captain, while protecting himself at the same time.

A stifled cough.

A slow breath.

A footstep off to the left around the corner.

Another stifled cough (too late to take another sip.)

He held his breath now.

The steps got closer…just around the corner.

His eyes slightly bulged from holding his breath.

A foot broke the edge of the building.

A cough broke the silence.

Both men reacted at the same time.

Velo lunged for the Captain, knife in hand.

The Captain drew his short sword and stepped to the side, deflecting Velo’s outstretched open hand.

Another cough (and Velo convulsed a bit.)

“Guards! Guards! Attack on the street! Guards!” the Captain shouted.

Both tried to gain the advantage.

Both attacked and blocked at the same time.

One coughed, the other shouted.

One rushed the other, the other tripped on a lose cobblestone and fell.

The one on top drove the blade deep into the chest, then again, and again.

A loud cough by both, blood spitting into the air.

Another thrust, another cough.

Velo looked down at the Captain, coughed again and stood up.

“Fuck you” he grunted through another cough. He could hear people running towards him just a block or two away from the right. Most likely guards from the garrison. He quickly stepped over the dying Captain (stepping in a puddle of blood as he did) and started running to the left, around the corner the Captain just emerged from, leaving a few bloody footsteps in his wake. He coughed again, but at this point he didn’t care.

Feldr watched him, from inside a dark shop’s windows across the street, slowly shaking his head in disappointment. Soon the City Guards arrived, and he knew he needed to slip out the back while the guards chased the bloody footprints the other way.

VII.

Feldr watched Velo serve drinks, turn occasionally to cough, and talk with the customers. He knew last night did not go well, and he told the messenger this morning. Velo almost failed, in both the mission and getting caught. The Benefactor’s direction to follow Velo and observed proved valuable so Feldr waited for direction.

Velo had not seen as many patrons at the bar in a long time. It seemed like the people of the city were celebrating the Captain’s death, and he smiled internally. He found the extra three pieces of gold under the whisky barrel this morning and his ‘Fuck you” stash grew a bit larger.

Both he and Feldr kept serving the guests, refilling mugs left and right, both mead and beer flowed generously until Feldr drained the mead barrel. 

“I need to get a new barrel Velo, be right back.”

Velo nodded (and cough quietly) as he watched his partner grab the empty barrel and walk it into the back.

Turning around he saw the messenger at the bar, standing at Feldr’s end, not the middle. Velo looked around, shrugged and walked up to him.

“What would you like tonight good Sir?”

The messenger seemed surprised to see Velo at this end of the bar, and fumbled his answer.

“Uhh, just a glass of port please.”

Velo grabbed a glass, filled it and set it on the counter.

“3 copper pieces please.”

The messenger fumbled with his pouch, grabbed something, then dropped it, grabbed another and dropped five items in Velo’s hand. Both men walked away from each other (while Velo pocketed the five items.)

Port indicated a rush, or expedited mission, thus an increased fee of two pieces of gold. 

A few minutes later Feldr returned, rolling a large barrel of mead and lifted it into its place and continued to serve the customers.

About twenty minutes later, Velo noticed the messenger back at the bar, again at Feldr’s side. Velo watched as his partner poured another glass of port. The messenger delivered the ‘coins’ and Feldr put them in his pocket as the both separated.

Two missions and both are rush jobs?

With the bar closed, both men cleaned up. While away from Feldr, Velo opened the small scroll and coughed. On it was one word, Velo.

He quickly rolled it up and put it back in his pocket as he walked into the back. He knew Feldr didn’t see the messenger give him anything, and now, with the name he read, he didn’t say a word about his mission.

“The Benefactor gave you a rush job? Who is it for?” Followed by a bout of coughing.

“The bank manager up on the north side of the city.”

“Want help? I could be your rear eyes and ears as you go in. I know that area well.”

Feldr looked at his partner, and internally sighed. He thought this was a rush job so the Benefactor could deal with Velo as soon as possible, and it was his mission because Velo could not be trusted due to his cough. 

“Not tonight my friend. In fact, why don’t you head home early and get some sleep. It will help with your cough.”

Velo just nodded said ‘Ok” and headed out.

VII.

Feldr cased the bank manager’s house a couple times, looking for any problems if he needed to get out quickly. With no issues found, he quietly climbed up a tree adjacent to the house, crawled out onto the roof and crept towards an open window. Once inside, he quietly tiptoed along the hallway towards the open door of the master bedroom. Once inside, he quickly found the bed, crept up to it and placed a hand over the bank managers mouth while slicing across the man’s neck. Startled (and in intense pain) the man tried to move, or shout, or do anything, but Feldr pinned him down and watched him die, the life quickly evaporating from his eyes. Once the man moved no more, Feldr retraced his steps out of the house.

As his feet touched the ground and he turned, he saw a flash of metal, as an ax crashed across his face, splitting his skull in two and burying itself in the tree behind the corps as it fell to the ground.

A man in a cloak and riding boots looked down on him, dropped his empty flask, reached into Feldr’s pocket to collect the four pieces of gold and then turned around to collect his belongings he left outside the rock wall of the bank manager’s property and leave the city. 

As he rode his horse out the north gate, a cough filled the air, followed by a quiet “Fuck you, Benefactor!”