“Try again!” Hinjo cried as he flicked the practice sword back to the panting wreck sprawled on the ground, “and hit me this time!”
Rather than reaching for the sword, Hinjo’s opponent instead kneeled in front of him and bowed his head.
“Lord, I yield. Your power and speed is too great for one such as I. My wit was slow and my tongue too quick when I insulted your leadership, please forgive me.”
“Remember this and hold your tongue in future for next time we fight with blades of steel! Now get out of my sight.”
His defeated opponent scurried off. His apology may have sounded sincere but in his mind this humiliation demanded only one thing, vengeance. However, he knew that he could not attack Hinjo head on; this sparring match had proved that. He needed another method…
X x x
“So you know what you are supposed to do?”
“Yes. He has just finished training so he should be in his quarters. To avoid suspicion from his guards and sneak in you should wear this maid’s outfit.”
Zz’dtri looked at it for a moment then shrugged. As long as he was getting paid for this he would wear anything.
x x x
Letting himself into Hinjo's quarters he looked around. The guards had been easily fooled by his outfit but now to the main show. Hearing water running in the other room he decided that his mark must be showering and so headed in that direction. Creeping into the bathing room, he was raising his hands in readiness to cast a spell that would turn Hinjo into a pile of dust to be washed down the drain when he saw the man he had been sent to kill. Standing under the cascade of water his body seemed to glow with the essence of masculinity. Maybe it was the outfit he was wearing but Zz'dtri had never felt this way before about anyone. He must have made some noise as Hinjo spun round startled and saw him standing there. Grabbing up his sword which was never far from his hand he knocked Zz'dtri backwards and stood over him with it pressed to his neck.
“Drow! Have you come to kill me?”
“Was, not now.”
“Not now?” Hinjo asked confused.
“Saw standing there, felt…things. Going to kill me?”
Staring down at the submissive Drow in the french maid outfit Hijo felt his ardour rise. He’d always had a thing for lace.
“Maybe there’s something else we can do.”