The Killing Grounds Read online

  “Yes Lord,” she managed through gulps of air. He picked up the pace and she struggled on, determined not to get left behind. Surely with the amount of bounties he’d collected he could afford a vehicle of some description? I’m dying here!

  After thirty minutes they had reached the outskirts of the Artisan’s sector and Osari returned to walking pace. “Have you ever been here before girl?”

  “Yes Lord, I was born here but I was taken away when I was five,” she admitted through gritted teeth as she struggled to get her heart rate to return to normal.

  “And you never returned?”

  “No Lord, I had no reason to until today.”

  “Very well, this is an extremely dangerous part of the town to come to without me, so I would imagine you’ll get a working knowledge of it in your own time?”

  “Yes Lord,” she replied. Pre-warned is pre-armed.

  As they crossed deeper into the Artisan’s sector she sensed magic all around her, but there was so much of it she found it hard to concentrate on anything individually, and instead decided to let it flow over her, keeping her body warm in the rain. Shops lined the concrete streets and the sounds of hammers pounding anvils filled the air, while the smell of stale beer filled her nostrils. She snorted.

  “Disgusting isn’t it?”

  “Indeed Lord.”

  The streets here were busy with workers milling about on their way to or from their mundane lives, but a path seemed to open up in front of them as they passed. Everyone knew better than to cross paths with an assassin it seemed, but Alara wondered what she would do if one of them took a chance. She wore the black of the Assassins Guild, but she knew nothing about fighting or killing. For the first time she was happy to be in the company of Lord Osari. She doubted that anyone would want to cross an assassin with his reputation. She was sure that there were many bounties on his head, but no one had been foolish enough to try to cash them in. The thought stopped her in her tracks; one day there would be a bounty on her head, maybe more than one, who would come to collect? And what had the Quartermaster said about her being fair game outside of the Killing Grounds? Like a fool she had waited in the rain right outside of the hotel in plain sight. Damn! She wouldn’t let that happen again!

  Lord Osari seemed to recognise the look on her face and said, “If you are successful and finish in the top five spots, a bounty is issued on your head as a reminder that relaxation will never be an option for you, and that celebrating your successes could come at a cost. Until that time there is no bounty ever issued on an apprentice. Your only enemies from within our walls are your class mates.”

  How does he do that? She nodded to him. There was no point in trying to pretend the thoughts hadn’t crossed her mind, he would see straight through that. “Will you be the one to collect on my bounty Lord?”

  Her question surprised him, but only for a second. “You are thirty-second in your class; I believe that you have other things to worry about before I see your bounty offered to me.”

  “Indeed Lord.” She went back to her thoughts as they travelled deeper into the Artisan’s area. After thirty minutes they arrived at a shop that Alara remembered as a bakery in the old days, but instead of the wonderful smelling cakes and breads that used to line the shelves, there were now weapons of all shapes and sizes. A sign above the premises read MANAK & SONS.

  They entered the shop and Lord Osari instructed her to go and look around the inventory, with a promise that there would be a test on the contents of the display cases. He waved her away and made his way to the counter where Manak waited patiently. Alara looked around the walls of the shop, where assorted weapons of all shapes and sizes hung from hooks or glistened under spotlessly clean display cabinets. She reached out with her mind and was confronted by very powerful magic emanating through the walls. She could sense it had been moulded into various killing machines behind the scenes. A feeling of disgust filled her stomach. This sort of magic didn’t feel right to her, but if she were to become an assassin she would have to embrace it and learn to love it. But at what cost? she silently asked the universe.

  Alara pushed the feelings aside and scanned the room for the case that held the blades. She would need weapons. Guns were out of the question, they were fallible and messy at best. Bows were an option but she wasn’t strong enough to unleash a kill shot, and she didn’t like the thought of torturing her kills. Her conscience wrestled with her constantly over her choice of trades, but she fought the urge to run from the shop and never set foot in the Killing Grounds ever again. She made her way to the knife display on the right hand side of the shop, only to look up and see Lord Osari and Manak staring at her as if they were taking mental notes. The feeling made her skin crawl so she threw up a mental shield to protect herself as the men stood talking. She leaned onto a glass cabinet that contained the throwing knives and picked out the ones that she thought she might be able to throw. She knew that the weight had to be just right for the owner, and unlike Lord Osari’s knives, hers would have to be evenly weighted. She spent several minutes drooling over the beauty of a set of Arian steel knives housed in a black leather belt, each one had a dragon motif etched directly into the steel and as she watched they seemed to come alive under her stare. She reached out with her mind to sense the type of magic within them but they seemed to be mundane, yet for some reason she couldn’t tear her eyes away from them and she felt a deep-seated need to possess each of them. She mentally pulled back, but their power fought hard to pull her back in. So you are magic, she managed to break the spell and stood back from the case shaking her head. Lord Osari and the shop owner had stopped talking and were watching her intently. Alara took one last look at the blades and walked back over to her Lord's side.

  Manak looked closely at Alara, “Arian, female and a Witch to boot.”

  “I am no Witch! And it would serve you well to watch your mouth shopkeeper.” She knew Lord Osari would be watching her carefully and he would expect her to at least act like an assassin.

  Manak glared at Alara and opened his mouth to launch into a verbal tirade at her when Lord Osari intervened. “Enough of this banter, let’s get down to business shopkeeper.”

  Alara watched as Manak’s face contorted with rage when she’d used his title and not his name, but he regained his composure enough to carry on.

  “Of course Lord Osari. The new blade that you ordered is ready.” He pulled a black-handled blade that matched the others in Lord Osari’s collection from underneath the counter.

  Lord Osari looked at Alara and she took a second to mentally examine the blade. “It is a perfect match for the others Lord, and no new magic was used as per your specifications.” A nod to the shopkeeper was a silent acknowledgment of the craftsmanship.

  “Good, thank you…shopkeeper.”

  Alara knew that the name would be irritating the hell out of Manak by now, and it felt good that Lord Osari was taking a stand with her and not the shopkeeper.

  “Indeed! Now if there’s nothing more?”

  “We're not done yet, I need a set of knives for the girl.”

  Alara’s eyes grew wide with excitement and her heart raced as she glanced back at the breathtaking knives in the cabinet. She would do anything to own those blades.

  Manak clicked his fingers and Alara’s thoughts were ripped from her reverie back to the present. “Not a chance girl, those blades are not meant for a shoddy apprentice like you. Here, you can have these with my compliments.” He turned around and took a plain set of knives in a black belt from the shelf behind him. He placed them on the table and Alara looked down at them.

  The word “apprentice” had been branded into the leather. Manak had meant it as an insult but Alara had other ideas. She pulled them off of the counter, wrapped the belt around her waist and took the first knife from belt. Examining it she said, “Interesting…” and left the comment open-ended. Her eye caught that of her Lord and she saw a slight sign of amusement, but as he noticed her looking h
e quickly became the stony-faced assassin she had first met in his rooms last night.

  Manak took the bait and asked “What’s so interesting girl?”

  Alara’s face was the picture of innocence, but when she looked into Manak’s eyes he realised that she was deadly serious. “The name on the blade says Manak, and I will make sure it finds its way home someday.” She licked the blade, drawing blood from her tongue and let it run down her chin. She spat into his face and walked out of the shop with her head held high. Manak’s eyes were wide with terror, everyone knew of the assassin's curse and it meant death would be coming for you at the moment you least expected it.

  “It seems as if the girl has your number Manak. Maybe you should have given her those Arian blades after all?”

  Lord Osari tuned to leave but Manak hadn’t finished yet, “She’s just a girl!”

  All Manak saw of Lord Osari was a blur as the assassin moved with superhuman speed back to the counter, with his new blade to challenge Manak directly. Osari opened his mouth and cut across his tongue, drawing blood, and he spat it into Manak’s face, “Yes but she’s my girl.” The blood drained from Manak’s haughty facade and he gripped the countertop to stop himself from falling backwards. The girl's threat was one thing, but Manak knew for sure that his days were numbered now that Lord Osari had backed up the threat. Osari turned to leave, “I’ll be seeing you soon…shopkeeper!”

  ***

  The assassin and his new apprentice made their way through the city en route to their first appointment of the day. The sun was peeking through the broken clouds and the rain had stopped enough for Alara’s fatigues to start drying out. The temperature was still close to freezing and the forecast promised that snow would be covering rooftops across the city by nightfall. The first name on the list of bounties owned a small warehouse in the docklands. His use of child labour had caused uproar in the city, but it broke no laws even though several of the children had been hospitalised with major injuries in the last month. She didn’t recognise the name of the house that ordered the retirement, and the other details on the bounty were sparse, just the charge and a photograph to ensure Lord Osari dispatched the correct person.

  “Today you’ll act as my spotter,” he said to Alara as they reached the docklands. Normally Osari would keep to the shadows and go about his business quietly, but this slave owner was not liked, and he expected little or no objection to the sanctioned kill. “I need you to find high ground and watch from a distance, make notes of what happens and do not leave out any details,” he said, handing Alara the bounty, a pencil and a collapsible spyglass. They stopped on the edge of a row of warehouses and Osari pointed across the row to where several children were loading a lorry. “I will call the man out for questioning and dispatch him on sight. Any questions?”

  “None Lord.” She didn’t wait for any further orders and left his side to seek out a good vantage point across the way from the front of the warehouse, where a row of lock-up garages stood empty. She scanned the area looking for a way onto the roof, but could see no stairs. If this were a test of her ability to act under pressure, she would show her new Lord that she was more than capable of making her own plans to fulfil his needs. She tucked the bounty and the spyglass into her shirt, slipped the pencil into the back of her bandana and found a drainpipe that looked like it could hold her weight. The climb to the roof wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be, and she could feel the burn in her arms from the effort and berated herself for being such a weakling. She would have to work at strengthening her body, or find some way to use her craft to make climbing easier, but for now brute force and determination would have to make do. She crossed the roof and lay prostrate on the floor, facing the entrance to the warehouse. Lord Osari was talking to a small boy dressed in rags. She couldn’t hear what was being said but he was pointing the boy in the direction of the wide double doors. The boy nodded and Lord Osari slipped something into his hand and motioned for him to go and find his boss. She noticed her Lord look in her direction and raise a finger to his lips indicating for her to be silent. Alara readied herself for her first retirement with her new Lord. The vantage point she had chosen was close enough to the action to watch him as carefully as possible, and as long as everything went to plan they would be done and away from the docks in a matter of minutes. But things rarely go to plan, she reminded herself and focused on her duties. She took the spyglass and the bounty out of her shirt and placed it next to her on the rooftop, retrieved the pencil from her bandana and chewed on the end. When she was younger she’d tried to be cool in front of the other kids and taken up smoking, but found it just made her sick and she’d given up quickly. The habit had been hard to shake, and she still found it useful to chew on something during stressful events such as this one. Alara heard shouts from the warehouse, but couldn’t decipher what they were screaming about. She saw movement from inside the doors and grabbed the spyglass for a better look. There were children running in all directions and she could make out a tall figure striding towards the entrance of the building. He swiped at one child as it barrelled into him, but he missed and the child scarpered out of her view back into the darkness. Obviously word of the assassin at the door had spread through the warehouse workers like wildfire, and the children were either running away, or trying to find some vantage point to see the upcoming action. The man was nearly at the door and Alara put the spyglass back down beside her. To her horror Lord Osari had vanished, and the loading bay was empty as the tall man strode confidently into the light and looked around for his visitor. Alara’s heart skipped a beat; she should have been watching Lord Osari’s back instead of being in her own head. She scanned the area with her naked eyes, but saw nothing. Damn it!

  “Come down and fight like a man.” The man was shouting at her! Alara’s heart was now racing and threatened to jump out of her chest. He started waving in her direction and Alara could see a revolver holstered at his side. If he fired she would be dead. As the realisation sunk in, her body froze, and as much as her mind screamed at her to move, her limbs disobeyed the instruction. Not the best way to start your first day.

  Alara saw a flash of black and sucked in a huge breath of air as she saw her Lord sitting on the edge of the rooftop above the man’s head, he was looking straight at her, shaking his head in obvious disappointment. He stood and climbed down the big double doors in one fluid motion, and she was captivated by the way he moved with such grace and style. By the time the tall man had raised the gun, Lord Osari was standing behind him with a knife in his right hand. He slipped his left hand around the man’s head, covered his mouth and whispered something into the man’s ear. Lord Osari slit the man’s throat and lowered his body to the ground where it bled out in a matter of seconds. The kill was one seamless act and with the least amount of effort on Lord Osari’s part. Alara quickly picked up the pencil and jotted down the events of the kill, rolled the bounty up with the others and slipped them back into her shirt along with the spyglass. She tucked the pencil neatly into her bandana and looked up to see Lord Osari standing below her next to the lock-ups. “We need to move on girl.”

  “Yes Lord and I’m sorry Lord.”

  He ignored her apology and quickly walked away toward the exit of the docklands. Alara had to run to catch up and was slightly out of breath when she fell into step beside him, “Learning points?”

  She thought for a moment trying to digest what had just happened. “My choice of positioning was not good, the mark spotted me within seconds and I put the mission in jeopardy.”

  “Not so, you caused a distraction that allowed me to move toward the mark with little or no effort. Try again.”

  “I should not have lost sight of you as you prepared for the retirement Lord,” she admitted.

  “Correct girl, never do that again. If you want to learn I suggest you keep a close eye on what I do. But!” he paused for effect, “Never lose sight of the mark either.” She nodded glumly. “All said and done I feel t
hat you could make a decent spotter, I trust you took some notes before leaving the rooftop?”

  “Yes Lord,” she said with hope in her voice. “Would you like to see them?”

  “That’s not necessary, our reports must match up or the bounty will be invalid. My account will be more comprehensive, but as long as yours matches the main details, no one will question the validity of the claim.”

  “This is a pro bono kill your Lordship, will the Guild even bother checking?”

  He stopped in his tracks and turned to her. “I have taken the life of a citizen of the city. Under normal circumstances I would be classed as a murderer would I not?” Without waiting for a response he continued, “The bounty is incredibly important, it allows me license to work within the law and without the bounty I would be committing a heinous act.”

  “Yes Lord,” she stammered.

  “All I ask is that you learn. Now it’s time to move on, and try to keep up, we have a lot of work to do.”

  ***

  The rest of the day went without a hitch and the bounties were collected one by one. A stupid mark had tried to run, but only made it three steps before Lord Osari dispatched him with a single blade to the base of the spine. Alara noted that all five kills were conducted with extreme diligence and with the least amount of effort on the assassin's part. She’d done her part and affirmed all of the retirements and they were back in the Killing Grounds within three hours.

  Osari stood staring out of the window watching the first snows of winter fall from the sky, while Alara sat by the hearth studying the book on the flight properties of arrows. He had accepted her explanation on the effect of the pole shifts earlier during the day, but she wanted to make sure that the knowledge stuck in her mind.

  “I am leaving the city on another matter later this evening and will only be back in a week's time.” Osari turned from the window and made his way back to his chair. Alara listened even though she was dying to interrupt him with all of the questions that had been running through her mind. “You are to return to the barracks and spend the time there wisely. Get to know the other apprentices, but keep your distance and your wits about you girl. I do not want to return to find you working in the mines. My bookcase is at your disposal, it is not as extensive as the library, but I am sure that you will nonetheless find the reading interesting. You have five minutes of my time and if you have any questions now would be the right time to start asking.”