Ada's eyes glittered in the moonlight as she sat crouched below the mansion of the old man they called Suro. It was a cool evening, but the breeze blew alternately from the south and the east, bringing cool draughts and warm wisps of air across her skin. Her toned shoulders and arms were bare, her dirty blonde hair drawn back into a plait coiled at the back of her head. She wore tight fitting black pants that gleamed softly in the night. Atop these she wore a deep black leather jerkin laced tightly to her navel. Her flat boots were made of the softest kid skin, also dark black, blending with the shadows as she moved.
As she had observed in the many weeks of watching the grand mansion, one window was left ajar and unlatched. Suro was tight on security, but he left this one window open for the spirits. Ada did not believe in such superstition, but she was glad Suro did.
Most of the town feared Suro, but Ada did not. He had been the patriarch of their little hamlet for as long as anyone could remember, certainly Ada remembered her mother telling her to stay away from his gated mansion when she was just a small child. That was before Ada had discovered what had happened to her father, how he had been banished from the hamlet, how their family gold had been confiscated by Suro, how her mother had been left to bear and raise her only child alone. Since that time Ada had vowed revenge on the cruel man who lived beyond the great iron gates.
Tonight, the twenty first anniversary of her birth, was the night she had chosen to avenge her father. She would reclaim her family's gold, at the very least. Suro was old now, it would not be fair to kill him, but it would be fitting to take from him that which he had taken from her, with interest.
Slipping in through the window, she found herself in a dark hall lined with shelves. On each glittered priceless treasures. Between the shelves were paintings, paintings of old people long since departed from the planet. Breathless with wonder and restrained glee, Ada wandered down the hall, looking from treasure to treasure. There were small statues, gleaming with precious stones. Golden orbs and coins displayed proudly on cushions of velvet.
She had stumbled into a treasure trove, at least, so she supposed. In reality, she had stumbled into a trap.
Behind her, the window she had slipped in through winked out of existence. One moment it was there, open to the night air, and in the next it was simply gone. Ada did not notice this, she was far too busy feasting her eyes on the treasures she had found.
A deep voice, gravelly and cultured interrupted her.
"Halt." It wasn't a shouted command. It was simply a command, plain and simple.
Ada didn't halt, she simply sauntered along the hall, mentally picking out treasures. She would have what she wanted and be gone before the old man could telegraph for help.
"Kneel and yield," the voice came again from the end of the hall, strong, sure of itself. Ada smiled to herself and kept walking.
"I told you to halt." Ada whipped around sharply, this time the voice spoke from somewhere close to her.
There was no-one behind her.
"It seems you are both foolish and deaf." The voice came again, close to her ear.
She whirled around once more, and there he was. Suro. But not as she remembered him, hobbling the streets of the town, his once proud frame withered and bent by the years. This was a strong Suro. He stood a good foot or more taller than her, his shoulders broad, his violet eyes keen. His face was not at all haggard, rather it was lined with a few deep lines, the rest of his skin smooth, covering a jaw of strength. All that testified to his age were a few streaks of grey through the dark hair which curled to his shoulders. He was clad in the dress of a noble, fine breeches and a red velvet brocade jacket with lace billowing from the sleeves and neck.
"Wha..how.." she stammered. Suro smiled a cruel sneer.
"Oh, the little thief is surprised to find that the old man is not such an easy mark," he drawled.
