The Killing Grounds Read online

  Alara stood, thanked Dunn for the invitation and left the mess. She was in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes before the meeting with the Quartermaster.

  ***

  When Alara returned to the mess hall she felt refreshed and clean, it had been her first shower in over twenty-four hours and even though it had been a short one, the hot water and soap had lifted her spirits and she was ready to face whatever the day might bring. The tables had been taken away and thirty-two chairs had been set out in a semi-circle in front of the Quartermaster. The meeting was about to start as Alara sat in the last available chair at the back of the group. A1 to A5 sat in the front row and from what Alara could make of the ranking system every other chair was fair game. The three girls sat directly behind A1 to A3 with Lucinda in the middle. The Quartermaster brought the meeting to order and addressed the group by doing a quick headcount.

  “I am not sure whether to congratulate you that no one died during the night or not,” his voice was stern and forceful. “I cannot stress enough the need to make this a smaller group, and I implore you to take matters into your own hands before the alumni get involved. It is normal that at this time of the year only twenty-five apprentices remain in contention, any comments A1?”

  “The credit score between thirty-two and twenty-seven is just under two hundred, I am expecting…movement Quartermaster,” Gideon said.

  “Good, with the skills available to this group seven retirements isn’t such a big number. Maybe a tournament would be in order?”

  “Possibly Quartermaster, but thirty-two has only just joined the group, and I request that if a tournament is conducted, that it be done so after a fair timeframe for her to ready herself.”

  The Quartermaster’s face hardened at this request and his gaze met Alara’s, “And what sort of time frame do you suggest A1?”

  “Thirty-one days Quartermaster.”

  “Make it so…But!…I want this on an even keel, no one is to be retired in the next thirty-one days, and after that the bottom eight will compete for the last spot on the list. Are we in agreement A1?” The Quartermaster’s eyes had not left Alara’s.

  “We are in agreement Quartermaster,” Gideon said, speaking for the group.

  Alara looked away from the Quartermaster and settled her gaze on Black's back. He was squirming in his seat and she felt that he desperately wanted to say something.

  “Something on your mind A2?” The Quartermaster's eyes had followed Alara’s and were now firmly fixed on Black.

  Unlike Gideon, Black took a moment before speaking, “I suggest an addendum to the ground rules Quartermaster.”

  “Any objections A1?”

  “None Sir.”

  “Continue A2.”

  “Should a member of the class become careless and reach a total of zero, that classmate should be retired immediately,” Black said, straightening in his chair.

  “Agreed,” Gideon said, a little too quickly for Alara’s liking.

  “Then let it be so.” The Quartermaster lifted an eyebrow in Gideon’s direction.

  “If I could be allowed to finish my thought Sir.” Black spoke softly but with menace.

  “Continue A2.”

  Now it was Gideon who sat twitching restlessly in his seat. Black continued, “In order to expedite the learning curve of the group, I suggest that the apprentice of the lowest rank has the duty of retiring the zeroed candidate.”

  Alara was visibly shocked by the idea. She was bottom of the rankings, and either she would be tasked to eliminate the last placed apprentice, or be eliminated herself. The Quartermaster's eyes swung back to Alara’s, but he paused before speaking. Alara hoped that he might veto the idea, but she was wrong. “There is no precedent for this, but if A1 agrees I have no issues.”

  Gideon automatically agreed with the addition and the matter was put to rest. The apprentices started to whisper and murmur to each other, but the Quartermaster brought the group back to order. “The thirty-one days starts immediately and I expect this to be done fairly. We are not thieves ladies and gentleman, and any foul play will end up in instant retirement. A1 to A5 will referee the outcome and take any measures deemed necessary. Now if there are no more frivolities we can move on.” The room was silent. “Good. Then let’s continue.” He pulled a hessian sack out from under his chair and passed it to Gideon, “Please choose a stone from this bag and pass it on.” Gideon reached inside and pulled out a plain looking stone and passed the bag to Black. As each of them retrieved a stone and passed the sack on, the Quartermaster continued speaking, “As most of you know an assassin has the honour of receiving his or her own death stone. This stone allows the Guild to know whether the assassin continues to live amongst us or has been retired. Today I am honoured to award you all with your own death stone.”

  The bag had found its way to the back of the class and Alara removed the last death stone. Examining it carefully, she had expected the stone to be plain and round, similar to those that were found along the shoreline of the city. Instead the stone was broken down the middle and hollow.

  The interior had intricate crystals growing within it, and sparkled under the florescent lights in the mess. She was mesmerised by its beauty and instantly fell in love with the way it vibrated in her hands. “You will notice that the death stone has been halved, the other half is now in the Guild vault and will be kept there until the crystals decay. As long as you breathe the crystals will continue to grow, but upon your retirement they will wither and die, indicating that the owner has passed on.” The Quartermaster reached into a pocket in his fatigues and brought to bear his own death stone that hung from a golden key fob. “You may display yours in whatever manner you deem fit, so wear it with pride. It cannot be destroyed or lost and is impervious to the Arts. Any questions?” No one took the opportunity to speak. “Class dismissed!” he said and left the apprentices to themselves.

  Alara quickly jumped to her feet and ducked out of the mess hall, she made her way back to the barracks, stared at the notice board and ran her finger down the list of apprentices until she reached number twenty-five. She noted the score of three hundred and forty points. Her finger continued down the list to number thirty one, who had one hundred and fifty points. Alara had a total of one hundred points due to the throwing competition the previous night, and she thanked the gods for her good fortune. Had Gideon made that happen knowing that a tournament was to commence? she wondered, but pushed the thought away, she damn well wasn’t here to make friends! She had at least two hundred and forty credits to catch up to number twenty-five. That’s the way you need to think of this girl. She would seek out the other seven candidates for retirement and use their numbers. Names just made it personal and this wasn’t a personal battle. In the end she would need to be in the A group if she was going to survive. Her finger made its way up to Singh’s name and noted his score of one thousand two hundred and forty points. Thank the gods for that donation of fifty points. Not only did it a give her a head start, but it also got her one step closer to A5 and success.

  The claxon sounded, signifying the start of the apprentice’s day. Another quick look at the board told her that she was due in the gym for strength training, and she grimaced at the thought of more aching muscles. Some of the apprentices who had returned to the dorm were running down the corridor, and she fell in step.

  Her classmates were already lining up horizontally from right to left across the hall and she tacked herself onto the end of the line, but the boy who had come in behind her pushed her out of the way and said, “You wish!”

  She looked across the line and realised that they were lining up in order from A1 to thirty-two. Annoyed at her own stupidity she made her way to the end of the hall and joined the line in last place. The line grew longer as the class found their place in the queue and Alara had full view of the seven that stood directly to her right. She looked across the line, sizing up her opposition and counted each one, slowly taking note of each fa
ce, until she reached a tall black haired boy standing at position twenty-five and mentally numbered him as P1. Two of the girls made up the next positions, a girl with a long blonde ponytail was P2 and a scruffy red headed girl was P3. Next to the redhead was a mousy looking boy who she numbered P4, P5 was a young spotty boy that she remembered as Croft from the breakfast table, and standing two away from her was a boy with thick glasses that wheezed as he breathed. Her first challenge was standing next to her. He was a dark skinned boy with tight curly hair. Alara swallowed hard at the thought of having to retire him, but if she were to live up to Lord Osari’s standards she would have to suck it up and retire the boy as soon as she could.

  In the front of the class was a row of five ropes, each of which was attached to the high ceiling. Alara looked back along the line and guessed that she could beat at least three of the last eight; maybe she could earn some points on the climb!

  Lord Sirap entered the gym and the class came to attention. Alara was a little surprised to see the poisons teacher, but after looking him over she realised that he was fit and lean. In fact, if she were asked to draw an assassin from memory she would picture one with the same build as Lord Sirap. “Call out!”

  Gideon shouted “A1” and Black followed on with “A2” until it got to Alara who said “Thirty-two!”

  Lord Sirap looked at her and she thrust out her chin in a show of pride. “Indeed,” he said with no emotion. “A1 and quarter step forward”.

  Alara was confused by the statement and looked down the line. Gideon stepped out, stretched and said “A1”.

  Warner was further down the line, stepped out and said, “Eight,” and started to limber up.

  Another boy stepped forward and announced “Sixteen”.

  Alara caught onto what was happening and did the math. “Twenty-four,” Lucinda said, stepping out of the line.

  Alara did the only thing she could and stepped out. “Thirty-two!” she said, not wanting to sound disheartened.

  “Step up,” Lord Sirap instructed. “Hands on the rope. Three climbs ladies and gentlemen, touch the roof on each climb and do not fall at the bottom. Ready?” Alara tensed herself for the start of the climb. “Go!” Alara started climbing using a hand over hand method with her feet dangling below. “Use your feet girl!” Lord Sirap shouted at her, and she wrapped her legs around the rope and pushed with her feet. By the time she had reached the top and touched the ceiling Gideon and Warner had already reached the bottom and had started to climb again, Sixteen was halfway down and Lucinda was at her level.

  Alara made sure to climb down the rope and not fall, as instructed. She hit the floor at the same time as Lucinda and Gideon. Damn he’s fast! As she started the second climb her arms started to burn, but the foot method definitely helped. As she touched the ceiling for the second time Gideon had hit the ground and shouted, “Done!” By the time she reached the bottom Warner had finished and Sixteen was on the way down for the last time. On the other hand, Lucinda was still coming down from her second climb and Alara had a two metre lead. She pulled herself up the rope with every inch of strength she could muster, but Lucinda had found a second wind and was now even with her as they touched the ceiling. They both descended at the same time. Alara, keeping in mind Lord Sirap’s instruction, kept her feet on the rope, but she was losing ground to Lucinda who had taken to the hand over hand method. Alara closed her eyes and continued down, making sure that she kept her method correct. She touched down and shouted “Done!” She looked at Lucinda who was in a heap on the floor gasping for air, she had lost her grip, fallen to the ground and been disqualified.

  “Good effort Thirty-two, bad form Twenty-four! A1 ten credits, Eight seven credits, Sixteen four credits, Thirty-two one credit and nothing for Twenty-four." The five classmates rejoined the line to bored claps from the rest of the class. “A2 and quarter,” Lord Sirap announced, Black stepped up and called his number and was joined by the rest of the boys in the correct order. Black won the challenge and received his credits along with the rest of the boys. Alara worked out that due to P1 finishing the climb he received his point and that she had gained no ground on him whatsoever, but she’d beaten Lucinda and that made the effort worthwhile. One point really didn’t make an impact, but to see her crumpled on the floor was priceless. The rest of the class took turns and by the time they had all either made the climb or fallen, she had gained one point on P7, P6, P5, & P4, but lost ground on P2 and P3 due to them finishing second in their heat. The last of the groups had finished and Lord Sirap had announced the credit scored when Black stepped up. “Yes A2?”

  “Personal challenge Sir?” he asked.

  Sirap looked to Gideon.

  “Why not, Lord Sirap.”

  “Step up A1, what’s the challenge A2?”

  “Twenty credits, five climbs Lord.”

  “Accepted!” Gideon shouted.

  “To the ropes then gentlemen,” Lord Sirap instructed, “I don’t need to explain the rules boys, but your personal battle is taking up my time so make this quick! Ready?” Both Gideon and Black gripped their ropes with grim determination. “Go!” The two boys climbed the rope in unison, hand for hand, foot for foot, and touched down together. Alara stood watching in awe as neither gave ground to the other. After five climbs they hit the ground at the same time and called “Done.”

  “Another draw boys, this is getting rather tedious,” Lord Sirap said and dismissed them back into line. “I want five laps of the common, and to stay with the theme of today’s events the last eight home will lose ten credits!” Alara heard the boy next to her sigh. “Now get out of here!” The class made a beeline to the door and out into the snow that covered the common land that ran adjacent to the old hotel.

  The run was easy for Alara, cardio had never been an issue for her until she had run with Lord Osari, but the apprentices were easy to beat and her lithe frame skipped around the common without giving her any problems at all. She’d have to work on her upper body strength if she could ever hope to reach A5. All of the top 5 had won their heats with no troubles at all, often beating second place by over one climb of the rope. The snow had stopped tumbling out of the sky and a thick fog had settled in over the common, she had been the last person out of the gym but had managed to catch up and pass ten classmates before the first lap was finished, including six of the bottom eight. Only Ponytail was ahead of her somewhere in the fog, and the thought of beating her spurred Alara on. Through the fog she caught sight of Gideon and Black running side by side in perfect step with each other. She fell into step behind them and tried to listen in to any conversations that they may be having, but the boys were silent. She reached out with her mind to test if there was a ward present and was unceremoniously dumped backwards onto the hard concrete path by a violent spell. The blow had knocked the wind out of her lungs and she panted heavily, trying to regain her breath as she watched Gideon and Black disappear back into the fog. Neither boy had turned to look at her or offer any support. Assholes! She dusted herself down and took off after the two assassins and passed another three before she came up behind them again. She reached out once more, this time to Gideon, and found a ward which was less intense than the previous one, but it knocked her effort back nonetheless. That could only mean that Black had Artistic skills which were far more powerful than her own, and for some reason he was protecting Gideon. So they’re having a conversation. As she passed them she looked back, only to see both boys running with their eyes closed. So that’s why they were so slow, they’re running blind, dammit! She continued her jog, slowly picking up pace as she went, not wanting to give any of her competitors any inclination of her true speed. By the time she reached her final lap she had caught sight of Ponytail. If her calculations were correct she was in eighth place in the race and Ponytail was in seventh. There was still a full lap left to run, and Alara slowed down not wanting to catch her prey so early in the lap as she didn’t know how fit the girl was. If she hung back for most of the lap
she would have a chance to beat her in a sprint finish. Her eyes focused on the bobbing top knot of hair, keeping it just in sight through the fog. The reduction in speed made her calves start to cramp as they pleaded with her to speed up to her normal pace, and Alara had to use a healing spell to keep them from seizing up. An injury now would mean her retirement. She reached out with her mind and examined Ponytail for signs of the Arts, but found none, she was mundane and Alara grinned, knowing she had the girl bested. Halfway around the final lap Alara was preparing for her big finish when she heard speeding footfalls behind her and a feeling of panic washed over her, she risked tripping up and took a glance backwards to see who was on her heels and through the fog she made out the shapes of two boys closing in on her. Within seconds they had caught and overtaken her, and as they passed Black looked back at her with a snarl on his face as the two steamed off toward the finish. She took a deep breath and looked for Ponytail, but the girl was gone. Alara had no choice but to push on as fast as she could through the thick fog, and deep down in her heart she knew she’d missed her chance at beating the girl. Urgh, concentrate girl! As she entered the gym she counted nine others that had finished ahead of her, she sat on the floor of the gym and stretched her calf and thigh muscles as best as she could, waiting to see who was in the bottom eight. By the time most of the runners had gotten back, twenty-six were finished and things were getting interesting, but she was disappointed to see that the next two through the door were the scruffy redhead and the boy with black hair, that meant she hadn’t closed the gap on P1 to P3.

  Mousy and Spotty were the next through the door. “Negative ten credits to both of you!” Lord Sirap shouted. It was a full ten minutes before Wheezy and Curly made their way back into the gym, coughing and spluttering onto the floor, trying to catch a breath, “Negative twenty points.”