“Tom Cat, you have finally come,” Luke, the old mouse priest said while looking out the window, his back to the door. While he didn’t see the assassin, he said these words every night before he fell asleep. For one night would eventually be his last. He had gone against the Covenant Church, and there was no escape from their reach. He knew they would send their best against him, for nothing less would do to enforce their message of silence.

He clutched the note and warning he had received from his friend warning what the Covenant Church had planned for speaking out. Even moving out here in disgrace was not enough. Running was out of the question, he was told and too tired and old. Also, there was no escape from the Covenant Church once it was committed to a creature’s death.

The old priest put away the note as the bells began to toll midnight from the monastery clock tower. He picked up his sheathed sword and made his way to his bed, he lay down on the bed, but his eyes refused to close.

Only some faint moonlight illuminated the dark stone room from the lone window. Open to let the cool night air in to remove the summer heat. He heard the soft rustle of wind. “I know you are there, if you are going to do something, then just do it.”

“Perceptive Priest Luke,” a voice said from the darkness. The priest startled a bit. While he knew of the assassin from his time in the Covenant Church before leaving, he had a hard time believing that even Tom Cat could have ascended the stone tower and entered his room without his notice. It spoke to the skill of the cat assassin. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before speaking.

“Tom Cat, I may be old, but the Warrior stands with me,” Priest Luke said with more confidence than he felt. He gripped the sword under the blanket. His hand tightening on the hilt. It was a cherished possession he received from his friend. Now it would guard his life. His eyes darting around, trying to figure out where the assassin was hiding.

“Perhaps, but you are a very bad creature. You know who holds my leash,” Tom Cat said from the shadows while scraping his metal sheathed claws against the stone. Sparks illuminated his dark fur. When he stopped, he vanished into the darkness once more.

“The High Clerics have strayed from the teachings of the Warrior and have broken the Covenant with the Warrior, the church was founded to protect. Why do they seek an old hermit like me after I left in disgrace? Who would dare?” Curiosity raged within his chest. Even if he was about to die, the old mouse priest wanted to know who had ordered his demise before his death. To know who hated him so much to send this assassin. Tom Cat began scraping the metal covering his claws against the stone wall once more.

“I am not given a reason or a name of who gives the order, nor do I care. I am given a name from above, as you rightly know. Your name,” Tom Cat said as he stopped scraping his claws and moved into his combat stance. Darkness settled into the room. Priest Luke shifted slightly for what was about to happen. Fear gripped him and he decided to act first.

“Warrior! Aid me!” The old mouse screamed at the top of his lungs, calling upon the ancestral spirit in his time of need. Power surged through his veins as the ancestral spirit descended upon him. Tom Cat was already moving across the room as the shadow of death, claws extended.

Priest Luke spun to his feet like a mouse a quarter of his age. The ancestral blade’s edge coming free of its sheath. His blade slashed forward, instinct granted by the ancestral spirit. Sparks scattered onto the old mouse’s face as he saw the metal coated tips of Tom Cat’s claws impact his blade. Tom Cat loomed over him, yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. The cat was twice the old mouse’s size and only by standing on his bed was Priest Luke able to meet Tom Cat at a similar height.

The old mouse was slammed from the force of the blow into the stone wall behind him. But he refused to die quietly. The ancestral spirit empowered him to continue, and his faith was not lacking. He slashed out with his blade, but Tom Cat had already retreated back into the darkness of the room. His dark fur providing near perfect concealment in darkness.

Priest Luke knew his time was limited and rushed forward and continued channeling the Warrior’s spirit through his withered frame. Tom Cat continued to gracefully move out of the way as Priest Luke futilely tried to strike the more agile cat. Tom Cat not breathing hard or even uttering a single taunt at the old mouse.

“Face me you cursed cat!”

But Tom Cat said nothing. A minute had gone by, and Priest Luke felt his age. His bones creaked. Sweat rolled down past his whiskers. His heart felt like it would explode. The Warrior spirit left him, and his blade fell from his grip. He felt a stabbing pain in his chest and his hands gripped his worn tunic as he fell to his knees.

“A heart attack. Not the first time a target has died overextending themselves, a painful way to go,” Tom Cat said calmly. There was no hatred or cruelty in his voice. Not even hurried breathing from the intense combat that had just happened either. Just a cold analytical tone about the fate of his opponent.

“Let them know, I curse them. May the Warrior spit on their graves and protect the innocent,” Priest Luke called out before he collapsed face first on the floor. Tom Cat waited patiently counting to ten before moving to check on the collapsed mouse.

There was no pulse, no breath, and no movement of the eyes. He was truly dead. Tom Cat carefully lifted up the deceased mouse and put him back on his bed. He tucked the old mouse carefully in, not saying a single word. For he knew the dead needed no words, only the living. He made sure to take the note that had been left behind.

He went back and picked up the sword. After giving it a couple of swings, he nodded and looked for the sheath. He found it behind the bed and put the sword inside of it. Tom Cat’s ears twitched. There was movement outside the room. He knew it was time to go and to be seen since his employers wanted to send a message. The Covenant Church was not to be crossed. Not even by an old mouse who had long since retired. A heart attack with no assassin would not send that message. He quickly used the loop of the sheath and tightened the sword to his back.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Tom Cat then raced for the window and was gripping the outside stonework as the door to the stone room opened. Guards poured inside. Time was of the essence now and Tom Cat knew he had to escape the city and reach the rendezvous point at the port.

He slid down the stone edifice of the tower using his claws to slow his descent. One of the guards looked outside and there was more shouting. Two floors from the ground, Tom Cat leapt off the side of the building. Calls of alarm were going up across the compound.

Tom Cat leapt up and quickly climbed to the top of the monastery wall. He ran across the wall, and past two startled guards, before dropping down on the other side and running down the hill to the city proper. He quickly raced into a back alley of the city. Sirens were heard in the distance. Tom Cat shook his head while he kept running, of course the monastery would call in the police. For they held no paladins of the faith. For no paladin would dare turn their back on the Covenant Church.

The alley came to an end and the next street had a lot of traffic and cameras. Both things he wanted to avoid. He looked at the buildings on either side of him. Tom Cat leapt up and grabbed a windowsill. He then quickly ascended up three more stories to reach the roof of the building.

Once on top he raced across the roof and jumped to the next building. It wasn’t long before he left the sirens behind. It took the rest of the night to reach the docks. He quickly boarded the container ship and made his way to the container that was his standard exit route out of any city with a port.

Tom Cat entered the metal container, glancing at the brown furred mouse sitting at the back of the container. A small electric lamp hanging over the mouse’s head, illuminating his plain blue clothes. “Cutting it close there, Tom Cat.”

“I got the job done like always. That is why we have two escape routes Mousethief,” Tom Cat said while taking the sword off his back and passing it over to the mouse.

“And you recovered an artifact blade. Standard recovery rate of course,” Mousethief said as he pulled the blade partway out of the scabbard to inspect it.

“Nice try. Triple. It is a historical artifact blade,” Tom Cat said with a harsh tone and glare, bearing his sharp canines slightly. Mousethief took the threat in stride. He was used to such things from the assassin.

“Ah, my mistake. Triple of course. There is a small problem that has come up with your payment distribution,” Mousethief said.

“What problem?” Tom Cat asked, clearly annoyed with how Mousethief was dragging things out. Tom Cat knew it was Mousethief’s way to play games and to annoy, but he detested it even after years of working together. It was only Mousethief’s exceptional skill and competence that allowed Tom Cat to tolerate his flippant attitude.

“The missus died. No foul play or anyone targeting you. Car accident. Idiot rabbit wasn’t even wearing a seatbelt, splattered across the road after hitting her,” Mousethief said calmly even as Tom Cat flexed his claws in and out of his paws.

“Family?” Tom Cat asked, going straight to the idea of revenge.

“High up enough to make it a bad idea. The father is a Captain in the city’s police. Three older siblings. Oldest is an executive at Tonic Pharmaceuticals. Not untouchable, but you won’t get clearance and any deaths will trace back to you,” Mousethief calmly said.

“What about Mittens?” Tom Cat asked while glaring at Mousethief as he kept dragging things out.

“Your daughter? Being moved to a group home.”

“You know they are terrible. Get her out,” Tom Cat demanded.

“Yes, just let me do that with a wave of my hand while we are on a mission,” Mousethief said sarcastically while rolling his eyes. “Before you say that you will take her, are you going to bring her on assassinations?”

“If I have to, better than a group home. I am her father,” Tom Cat said, but then he calmed and gave a toothy grin and leaned forward right in Mousethief’s face. Mousethief couldn’t help but shudder as his survival instincts kicked in. “Why don’t you tell the higher ups, that since the missus is dead, the contract between us is void.”

“Don’t even think of pulling on your leash,” Mousethief said. Tom Cat placed a clawed paw on the small creature’s head.

“Just pass the message. The missus died, so the contract is in limbo. I want a renegotiation,” Tom Cat said.

“They will pull out my whiskers!” Mousethief cried out, tears leaking down from his eyes. Tom Cat knew they were mostly fake.

“I don’t care. I want an accommodation for my daughter, or I walk,” Tom Cat said calmly and then backed away from Mousethief. The entire ship shuddered and got underway as both of the creatures in the cargo container were silent.

“Fine. You want it, you got it, but I am dumping this all on you,” Mousethief said while turning to a wood crate behind him.

“I don’t care. I know my value. The higher ups know my value. That is enough for an accommodation with how little I have asked for over the years,” Tom Cat said while looking at his metal claws while leaning against the side of the container.

“Easy for you to say mister assassin. Alright, got it.” Mousethief pulled out a large communication device and set it on the table. He began to extend various components and antenna.

“How was the information relayed anyways?” Tom Cat asked while Mousethief continued to work.

“Through a contact I had keeping an eye on your people. Off the books and discrete, just like you asked them to be. They know how to get me a message through my regular channels. I promised I would keep an eye on them, and I have,” Mousethief said.

“Thanks,” Tom Cat muttered.

“No problem. Alright, once I ring up, there is no going back. You ready?”

“I was born ready. Make the call,” Tom Cat said and went over to the table. Mousethief put on a headset and began hitting a number of buttons. The device began to whir and hum.

“Priority connection, agent black. Verification code. Sigma, foxtrot, blue, tango, seven, eight. Day code. Five. Seven. Alpha.”

“Counter code, one, eight, five, three, gamma. Authenticated, agent black. Secure connection confirmed. State nature of priority request,” a garbled voice spoke from the other side. It would be impossible to tell anything about them.

“Agent black demands contract re-negotiation based on changed circumstances. Black support one perished, non-hostile action. Black support two in limbo. Request time for extraction and to be read in,” Mousethief said calmly even though he was sweating. There was a long period of silence as both Tom Cat and Mousethief waited for a response.

“Extraction approved. Black support two may be read in. Evaluation will be scheduled. Correspond through standard route for next assignment and update on black support two. Terminating connection.” Tom Cat let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, you did it you big brute,” Mousethief said as he put everything away. “Even if I did the speaking, your reputation saved your behind.”

“Thanks,” Tom Cat said while moving away to go sit down for the voyage ahead of them.

“Well, as long as you keep on script. It is a long trip back. Want anything to eat?”

“Fish. Fresh. You know the drill,” Tom Cat said. It was his preferred meal after a successful job.

“Fine, fine. I will be back,” Mousethief walked past Tom Cat and exited the container, carefully closing it behind him.

It was only when he was alone, that Tom Cat allowed a tear to fall for his wife. He couldn’t afford excessive weakness and emotion. Those were the two things of the many things that got one killed while working. But he wasn’t about to let his only daughter suffer or be alone.