The Killing Grounds Page 25

  She lowered her gaze to the ground, “They're trying to keep me busy so that I don’t go after Lord Basel aren’t they?”

  “Lord Basel doesn’t seem to be a problem for them at this time.”

  “I have a question Sir.”

  “Then ask, girl,” he replied sternly.

  “Lord Osari was away on Guild business, I was wondering…”

  “Spit it out girl, I don’t have all day.”

  “Whose bounty was he collecting?”

  “I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to ask me that question Du Preeze. Although I am forbidden by Guild law to tell you whose name was on the bounty, I can say this, the timeframe given expires tomorrow night at midnight and the bounty will be given to another assassin.

  “I…”

  Her cut her off quickly. “No. This assignment can only go to a senior member of the Guild, we’ve already lost one of our best and I fear that you would succumb to the same fate as your Lord. Whoever receives the bounty will be required to collect within five days but I wouldn’t be surprised if said assassin didn’t already have a plan of attack.”

  “Yes Sir.” She didn’t need any more information.

  “Your classes start in three days, make sure you’re ready.”

  ***

  Alara left her room thirty minutes before her meeting with Bastian. She wanted to scan the courtyard and make sure that they would be alone, but the boy had already made himself comfortable in the Lord's dining area. He carried a bottle of still water which he sipped from as he examined his surroundings. She stayed in the shadows of the Guild walls and scanned the area for anything untoward and found everything was in order. She watched the boy with interest, most visitors to the Killing Grounds were nervous and on edge, but not Bastian Millhaven, who was the epitome of calmness amid a sea of black clad killers. Two lower Lords walked past him and he greeted them with ease. Who does that? Who greets assassins as if they're old school friends at a reunion? He looked handsome in the early evening moonlight, his black business suit fitted well into the surroundings, but the white shirt stuck out like a sore thumb. Next to the bottle there was a single red rose wrapped in a cellophane sheet. He picked it up and spun the stem slowly in his fingers watching the petals dance in the light of the courtyard. She couldn’t help but be attracted to the boy, he was handsome, rich and powerful, but that was the reason to not be attracted to him, he could only be trouble to her and she couldn’t afford the distraction. This was business and nothing more. She casually strolled out of the shadows and greeted him with a firm handshake, which he gently restrained until her hand stilled. He then did the unthinkable and leant in for another kiss, but she drew her hand back and stepped away.

  “Good evening Lord Millhaven,” she said, desperately wanting to move the evening forward.

  “Lady Alara, you look…dark and dangerous as always. Will I ever see you in anything other than those fatigues?”

  “I am no Lady my Lord, and these are the clothes that the Guild requires me to wear, and as long as I am a part of the Guild I will wear the uniform with pride.”

  “Indeed, I have a carriage outside of the gates and I thought you might like a tour of our city this evening.”

  “I know this city very well.”

  “Not the way I know it Alara. It’s not as if we can talk here,” he said, looking at the many windows facing the courtyard. “Even with your powers it wouldn’t be wise to continue our conversation from the other evening.”

  She had been so absorbed with watching him that she had neglected to shield the area, it was too late now and Bastian was right, they needed to go somewhere prying ears and eyes wouldn’t be able to find them.

  She left him to walk out of the front door and jogged to the side entrance where he was waiting at the door of a horse-drawn carriage. “It’s the only way to travel!” he said dramatically as he offered her a hand. She leapt in without his help and sat on the back seat, making sure she had a full view of both doors and the rear of the cab driver's wall. Bastian climbed in and sat opposite her, he leant out of the window and banged on the door for the driver to go. The cab was drawn by two horses and Alara was surprised at how comfortable the ride was, she expected to get tossed all around the cab, but whatever was used for suspension cradled them from the concrete streets in some style.

  “I hear your finals were very exciting,” he said enthusiastically, “do tell me what happened.”

  “I am sure that your spies gave you a fairly accurate account Lord Millhaven,” she replied.

  “Of course, but I would much rather hear it first hand, if you don’t mind.”

  She shrugged and explained the story from her point of view as quickly and factually as possible, but it was obvious that he already knew what happened. So much for Guild business staying within the Guild. Alara watched his face as she finished her story and once again she found herself liking what she saw, he wasn’t a handsome man like Gideon or the muscled Adonis that Alex was, but he was something entirely different and it secretly excited her.

  “Phew, you live such an interesting life. So Lord Basel is still with us, and how did you put it, is in the winds?”

  “Yes,” she said, somewhat ashamed at not managing to fulfil her part of the bargain.

  He thought for a moment, “I am a businessman Alara, and in business one learns to think on one's feet. Am I right in assuming that you still have things in hand and that our agreement is still in place?”

  “Yes, I have made enquiries into his whereabouts.”

  “And I’m betting that you have drawn a blank?”

  Damn! “Yes Lord Millhaven.”

  He looked at her for a moment before speaking, “Do I need to look for another business partner Miss Du Preeze?”

  “No. The man will be retired by the end of the week,” she said.

  “Good, then I will leave it in your capable hands,” he drew the curtain on the cab door back; they were passing the old fort that stood tall and handsome, facing the sea at the far side of the common. Its sole purpose was to guard the straight between the mainland and White Island. “Did you know that the city has three forts Alara? The biggest one is positioned at the rear of Lord Black’s land, the smallest is a sea fort some three miles offshore from here, but this one,” he pointed to the old stone fort, “is my favourite.”

  She examined the grey stone walls; it looked cold and threatening in the moonlight. No lights shone inside the main building, but there had been a lighthouse added during the war and its beam swept across the common and out to sea.

  “If the ABC executives had taken shelter in there and not the Killing Grounds, history would have been somewhat different, I think. It has stood defending the city for over three hundred years and its walls have never been breached. Kings and Presidents have safely slept in its beds, stories have been written about generals loyal to the city defending the walls to their deaths, and now it stands there, a mere shell of what it once was. I find it distressing.”

  Alara wasn’t sure anything could actually distress the boy, but she let him carry on.

  “A city needs a fort Alara, something to protect it and watch it as it sleeps, and something that will always be there, come what may. Its strength must be formidable and its foundation solid and embedded within the culture of its people. The power of the fort should be reflected in the strength of the people that it protects.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that I am getting another lecture on the importance of politics?” she laughed.

  “You're right of course, please excuse me, I do tend to get carried away,” he said looking back at the fort.

  She decided to change the subject, “How are Lord and Lady Millhaven?”

  “Strangely worried about Lucinda,” he said returning his gaze to Alara. “It seems that what happened could have a negative effect on the standing of the family.”

  “Oh, how so?” she asked.

  “She should have been retired. Her blade missed
and the other found its target. Simple math really," he said nonchalantly.

  “We were told that her blade found its target and killed the boy,” she said shocked.

  “Yes that’s the official story, but my people tell me it was Black’s blade that retired the boy, not Lucinda’s. He was flogged for his part in the story.”

  “What?”

  Bastian stared into her eyes, “I’ll not lie to you Alara.”

  “But you’ll not tell me the whole truth either, will you?”

  He laughed, “That’s just the way of things I’m afraid. In my world trust is earned not just thrown to someone like a bone to a dog.”

  They sat in silence, Bastian was staring out of the window and Alara was deep in thought at the news that Black had been flogged for protecting Lucinda. No wonder he didn’t want to speak to her. She had let her friends down, even though she knew she could have done nothing at the time.

  After some time he said, “Do you see the lights on the hill?” and pointed upward.

  “Yes, if I’m right that’s Madam Isabelle’s property.”

  He nodded. “To the left is Millhaven House and behind that hiding in the shadows is House Black. The three most powerful houses in the city all within a five square kilometre block. If those walls could talk what tales they could tell!”

  “Three houses, three dragons,” she said out loud before she could stop herself.

  “Indeed. Two wanting change and one stubbornly against it,” he mused to himself.

  “The houses or the dragons?” she asked.

  “Precisely! But enough of this for the moment. We’re nearly there.”

  The horses drew to a stop and Bastian helped Alara dismount from the carriage. He led her to a small restaurant that was carved into the walls of the great hill that protected the rear of the city. The sounds of merriment emanated from inside the doors and Alara looked down at her fatigues. “I’m a little underdressed for this.”

  He laughed and opened the door; the smell of the food was delicious. Alara had never eaten in a restaurant before and she felt miles out of her comfort zone. “Just ignore the stares, these sorts of people rarely see anyone from your Guild,” he led her through the maze of tables and chairs, greeting people as he passed, but never stopping to talk. A waiter approached him and led them to a small door at the back of the room that opened into a private booth. It was only when the doors closed behind them that the noise in the restaurant returned to normal.

  “Good evening Lord Millhaven.”

  The waiter attempted to pass Bastian a menu, but he waved it away. “I’m sure that whatever my guest orders will be fine for me.”

  Alara took the menu and scanned the pages, most of the words made no sense to her.

  “Would you like me to tell you our specials Miss?”

  She was annoyed that the waiter knew she couldn’t understand the menu and spoke through clenched teeth, “Continue.” The waiter described some of the dishes as Bastian sat looking at her with an amused smile. She was as confused by the waiter’s explanation of the specials as she was with the menu. “What do you recommend?”

  The waiter made his recommendation to which Alara agreed and the waiter bustled away.

  “Very nicely done,” Bastian said. “Your Guild should think about teaching apprentices the danger of social interaction.”

  She ignored the snipe at the Guild, “Why are we here Lord Millhaven?”

  “To continue our date I hope.”

  She threw a shield up around the room. Bastian noticed the change in the air. “Thank you,” he said.

  “You could always just ask me,” she replied tersely.

  “Should I really need to?” he responded in kind. “If you are to act for the Council you will need to take care of such matters without instruction. You will also need to act correctly in public and be able to mix with people that you regard as above your station. You can consider tonight as your introduction into society.”

  “So this is a test?”

  “Isn’t everything?”

  She waited a moment before speaking, “You said that you would help me find Lord Osari if I retire Lord Basel,” he nodded but said nothing. “Lord Basel will be hiding near Lord Osari,” he nodded again. “So it seems pertinent that you share that information now,” she considered pulling a blade out of her belt and threatening the boy.

  “Yes, your lack of action has put me in a predicament I wasn’t expecting.”

  “I have a bounty for Lord Basel,” she said.

  “I was hoping you would get that,” he said, “but the Junior Council isn’t used to paying in advance and I’m not sure they would be willing to start now. However,” he said seriously, “maybe an exception can be made. What do you know of the workings of the Senior Council?”

  She needed to tread carefully, both of Bastian's parents occupied seats. “The Council is made up of the city’s finest families along with successful business people from within the city structures,” she didn’t want to give away more than she needed to.

  “Yes, what do you think of the need for hereditary seats?”

  “I think that given the number of family seats versus business seats available the probability for growth is somewhat inhibited.”

  He examined her closely. “Are you saying that family seats limit the effectiveness of the city’s power in the kingdom?”

  “Exactly,” she said, “the city should be run by those that want to make progress, not live in the past.”

  “Most wouldn’t agree with that thought process Miss Du Preeze.”

  “I can only speak for myself Lord Millhaven, and I meant no insult.”

  “None taken, I happen to be one of those that agree with you,” the waiter returned with two bowls of cold soup and placed them before the couple. Alara picked up the bowl and smelled the contents as Bastian spooned the soup into his mouth. She pushed the bowl away and told the waiter to remove it. “It’s called gazpacho: peppers, onion, cucumbers and tomatoes. I like it, but it is an acquired taste and not the best thing for a cold winter’s night such as this.” He mopped the corner of his mouth with a white serviette as Alara picked up a bread roll from the dish in the middle of the table and nibbled on the crust. “I’m sure the main course will be more to your liking.”

  She wanted to get the news on Lord Osari’s whereabouts. “You were telling me about the Council?”

  “Actually you were telling me,” he smiled. “Can we agree that power relates to wealth and that wealth is either new or old?” she nodded. “Then can we agree that those that come from affluent backgrounds spend their time managing what they have, and that businessmen that have made themselves profitable spend their time trying to create more wealth?” She motioned for him to carry on, but she was getting annoyed at him beating around the bush. “There is only so much wealth and there is a constant battle between the two. Ninety percent of old money is invested in property and they protect it with their lives. Property is at a premium in the city at the moment, and the wealth has never been divided as evenly between business and family as it is now. If the scales were to tip in favour of business the political landscape of the city would be changed forever. The families will do whatever they can to protect the current status quo.” The waiter had returned and taken away Bastian’s bowl after refreshing the bread basket that Alara had demolished as she listened to the boy’s rambling. “Did you know your Guild house is worth more money than Millhaven House and House Black put together? If that wealth fell into the hands of the businessmen it would be disastrous for the families.”

  So that was the issue, it wasn’t about Lord Osari; it was about the Killing Grounds. The Affiliation wanted to sell to business owners but they didn’t have the full backing of the Guild Council. If Lord Osari came back and vetoed the vote to sell, business would suffer and the families would keep the power. “Sable’s behind the buyout isn’t she?”

  “It’s possible I suspect, but she would need a powerful
and very private ally.” The waiter returned and brought the main course of steak, potatoes and various vegetables. The aromas made Alara hungry, but she refused to eat anything offered and pushed the plate to one side. “Leave us,” Bastian ordered the waiter, who disappeared into the kitchen.

  “So who’s her ally?”

  “Well that’s the question, my spies, as you call them, have found nothing concrete. Whoever it is has the ability to cover their tracks extremely well,” he said shaking his head.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she said.

  It took him by surprise, “Oh and how do you think you can do that?”

  “Never mind,” she said, as a plan started to hatch in her mind. “But I’m going to need some help, so if you’d excuse me Lord Millhaven, I’d like to get back to my Guild.”

  The ride back to the Killing Grounds couldn’t go fast enough for Alara, she exchanged pleasantries with Bastian, but she wouldn’t elaborate any more on her plan, no matter how hard he tried to question her. If his family were involved she needed to distance herself as soon as possible. The carriage dropped her at the side entrance and she slipped out of the buggy and into the Guild before he had any chance to say goodnight. She didn’t care about upsetting the boy by her abrupt manner; she needed to find Alex Black as quickly as possible.

  Twenty-Four:

  Alara had no idea where Black would be that night, she checked all of the normal places, but the gym was packed with apprentices in various states of exhaustion and the mess hall was empty. He could be anywhere within the walls of the Killing Grounds, or he could be out collecting on one of the bounties that the Quartermaster had given him that morning. She went back to her room and brooded over the evening with Bastian. She hadn’t eaten anything but bread and she was starving, but the mess would only be open in the morning. Her stomach growled at her for the lack of food and Alara stared at the dead television screen, just a small window would make this bloody place a bit more liveable!

  She retrieved Lord Osari’s death stone and sat on the edge of the bed. The rock felt heavy and cold in her hand and the crystals were almost dead. Alara knew that if she didn’t do something quickly she would be too late. She relaxed her mind and let it wander out of the room and into the many corridors that ran the length and breadth of the old hotel, looking for any signs of Black, but found none. Pushing her mind to its limits she searched around the perimeter of the building, but only sensed a few other assassins going about their business in the quiet streets below. As she started to pull her search back she sensed a spell cast in the infirmary, Lucinda had regained consciousness and was shielded, and someone else was hidden behind the mental wall with her. She tasted the spell scent and recognised it immediately. Black!