The Honor of One

Chem stayed in the darkness of shadow, watching the three hooded assassins jump from building to building. He had received a tip from one of his informants that there was a 5,000 gold contract on the new owner of The Hag's Head Tavern. 

"It's to be done at midnight. The witching hour," his informant had said in a raspy voice. "They are to make her bleed slowly and cut her open with a thousand little cuts." 

"Do you know why?" Chem inquired. He had just paid the informant a small gem.  

"Tis because the owner is a witch," the informant said in a low voice. "She had put a hex on a merchant's son. The son died a horrible, disfiguring death and the merchant wants his revenge." 

Chem now waited for the three to strike. He watched as they moved about, fast and silent like shadows over a field. His nose picked up the scent of two men approaching from behind. He was set up!