Becklar climbed out from the chariot. The horses snarled in front as the man wasted no time whipping their cords egging them to trod out of the royal courts. Even they knew better than to tread on these grounds, but the assassin knew how to counter such things, the golden coin wouldn’t disappoint the taxi.<br/><br/>The morning sun beat down onto the freshly manicured lawn on either side as Becklar ascended the steps one by one. He took each step with caution, and if any trouble arose, he had six blades ready to draw at any time. His reputation proceeded him like the calm before a great storm which beckoned the question running through his mind- why did the king summon him? Of all the people he could have chosen, he found himself among them. His crystal blue eyes surveyed the sculpted horses from morsel bushes along with the statue waterfall he carefully maneuvered around.<br/><br/>As the assassin approached the door, two royal guards stood with spears in their hand. They appeared to be about the same height with silver covering everybody part expect for their heads. Their eyes moved almost in sync with one another as they found the man approaching the entrance to the royal palace. One dropped his spear as the other held up his hand, “State your business?!” His eyes crinkled.<br/><br/>Becklar smiled oozing with confidence as he raised his hands in the air. “Now, now, is that any way to treat a guest? I was summoned here by your King to do a bidding.”<br/><br/>“We cannot grant you entrance as the party has already started?”<br/><br/>“Oh, but I think you will.”<br/><br/>“Request denied.”<br/><br/>“Becklar of Tusclav.”<br/><br/>The guards stood in silence for a brief moment, their eyes didn’t leave his. The spear that pointed at the assassin began to move noticeable to the trained eye, the man behind the spear showed weakness, fear. “Very well! The king wouldn’t let us hear the end of this if you weren’t allowed to enter.” The spear raised and the guard holding it released a deep breath. “But do note the king will not be pleased by your tardiness, sir Becklar.”<br/><br/>Becklar rolled his eyes and then brushed his hair back behind his shoulders. “Let me worry about things above your pay grade. If you had struck, you both would’ve been dead before you could touch me.” He said as he moved past both men. “Oh, and you might want to get someone else to guard these gates, someone who isn’t a coward.”<br/><br/>The assassin continued to walk down the hall until he came upon the royal court’s doors. He walked up to them and stood there for a moment, surprisingly, there were no guards at this entrance. However, he disregarded that notion, who needed guards with a room full of trained killers. He laughed to himself as he pressed the doors open.<br/><br/>People moved about every which direction. It pleased him to see his timing was perfect, the king had just concluded his speech and people were breaking out for the royal feast.<br/><br/>“What’s the meaning of this?!” A voice shouted from the dais.<br/><br/>Becklar snapped out of his fixation on the people and found the kings eyes. The crowd took notice as well stopping what they were doing and glancing over to him. “Beg your pardon?”<br/><br/>“You’re late, why are you even here?”<br/><br/>“One reason, you summoned me.”<br/><br/>“Yes, to be here on time not late to the ceremony. Do you rea-“<br/><br/>“Listen, I really do understand what you’re trying to say, but you called for me, I came, if you don’t want my services I will be taking my leave.”<br/><br/>“State your name, brude!” The king said.<br/><br/>“Becklar, the one and only in the flesh.”<br/><br/>The crowd mumbled amongst themselves as a silencing wind blew through the courts. The king himself swallowed a gulp at the mention of his name. His eyes narrowed, and he pointed towards him, “Very well, come and join. But if you’re late again, I will have your head!”<br/><br/>The assassin could see through the charade of toughness the king displayed. Normally, just for pointing at him he’d have already taken the man’s finger and life shortly after, but this wasn’t the person, and this wasn’t the place. He was a skilled man, but he wasn’t foolish either. Becklar bent at the waste and nodded, “My humble apologies my King,” he admitted before standing up and walking into the room.<br/><br/>“Let the feast begin!” The king raised his voice in hopes to continue on with the festivities.<br/><br/>Becklar walked onward towards one of the tables and sat down. To his right and left he could hear people whispering his name, some eyes cast on him. He couldn’t help but be uncomfortable, never did he state his name, and people would never spot him if he were in their midst. He watched as the chefs rolled out with platters and lined the lengthened tables with the finest of meats in all of the land. Servants filling their mugs full of ale, this would truly be a test for everyone there. He didn’t know the pay, but he intended to do something right for once, a promise he intended to keep to show the Honor of his Heart.