The Killing Grounds Read online

  “But Lord…” they both stammered.

  “No buts you two! Ten for losing the race and ten for making a mess on my nice clean floor. All of you hit the head, A1 stay behind.”

  “Yes Lord,” the class said as one and filed out the room and headed for the showers. Alara made sure that she was the last one out and tried to listen in to the conversation between Gideon and Lord Sirap. She caught the words “girl” and “tonight” before she had no choice but to leave.

  Six:

  Alara mentally massaged her aching body as she sat in front of the roaring fireplace in Lord Osari’s office later that night, and reflected back on her day. She’d caught up a few points in the gym, but had lost ground on Black Hair, Ponytail and Redhead in the academic classes. She’d managed to get to one hundred and ten points though, and she found herself just behind Curly, but level with Wheezy. Not only was he bad in the more physical side of the training, he was even worse in the classroom. Alara felt sorry for him, having been berated for his lack of talent all day by the various Lords that gave up their time to teach the apprentices. She’d scanned the boy earlier in the day and found him to have no Artistic talents, and she found herself wondering how he had made it into the apprenticeship in the first place. If he didn’t improve soon he would undoubtedly be retired as soon as the thirty-one days was over. Her mood sobered at the thought of having to be the one to inflict the coup de grâce, but she’d chosen to compete for a position, there was no going back now, and she would have to face retiring at least one of the apprentices at some point in time. Maybe it was better to force the issue and put this poor boy out of his misery quickly. No, she would see if he had just experienced a bad day and then reassess the situation. If he didn’t improve soon she would take things into her own hands and kill him as quickly and as painlessly as possible. She hated to see anyone suffer. Get your head out of your dreams and back in the books! The first book out of the bag was titled, A brief history of the ABC Wars. During her time with the Arbitrators Guild she had studied wars, but not from the perspective the book was written in, and she marvelled at the skill and determination each of the famous generals displayed from both sides, but the one that caught her eye the most, was the one she had to write an essay on for the end of the week’s exams. Lord Nelson had inflicted massive losses on the enemy by using the Arts to hide his advancing bombers at the same time as conjuring a mass hypnosis ward over the advancing enemy troops, making them think that they had already won, which drew them back into the city centre to celebrate their victory. The ABC alliances never bothered to reinforce the walls of the city, and as the party started Lord Nelson's Artists blocked every exit as the bombers swept over the city, destroying everything in their paths and effectively breaking the backs of the allied forces. It was the start of the end for the allies, as their most powerful war Artists were caught out in the open and eliminated from the war equations in one foul swoop.

  Alara scribbled madly into a writing pad with her pencil, she had used the Arts to take copious notes on the triumphant Lord Nelson and committed them to memory. As she finished editing the notes she closed the book and a small piece of paper fell into her lap. She opened it and read aloud;

  Take up the White Man’s burden, send forth the best ye breed

  Go blind your sons to exile, to serve your captive’s needs;

  To wait in heavy harness, on fluttered folk or wild-

  Your new-caught, sullen peoples, half-devil and half-child.

  Alara knew the poem and pondered why Lord Osari would have hidden it in the book of strategy. Is this a message? Or a test? She hadn’t known Lord Osari for very long, but she realised that whatever had brought them together had been meticulously planned by him. He wanted me to find this, but why? She read the poem again and pondered its meaning. It had been argued that it was a racist attack on society by some, but merely an observation on colonialism by others; however both sides agreed that the overall message was of the White Man’s responsibility to educate the heathens in order for them to participate in the growing economy of the world. Colonise, educate and leave was the overall plan. The English, as they were called then, found the first two points of this easy, but when it came to leaving their greed got the better of them and they colonised half of the new world before their downfall inevitably came. It had been an outcome that had reoccurred across the world many times before the ABC wars, and the result was always the same, destruction and death. She remembered the old stories of ancient wars, one country thinking that they could annex another, only to find the people of that country welcoming them with open arms and then destroying them from within. Alara read the poem aloud for a second time, tasting the words on her lips and breathing each one in. Maybe her historical analysis of it wasn’t correct at this time. Maybe Lord Osari had meant it as an observation of modern times; the lessons of the past were still true today in the event of the Arts being discovered. Maybe the White Man’s burden was understood by him as the mundane population ensnaring the Artists into bondage and showing them the error of their ways? Lord Osari had made it clear on his opinion of Artists, but then why would he have chosen her as his apprentice? Things just didn’t make sense.

  She tucked the message into her shirt and her hand ran over the death stone that nestled there. The warmth from the stone made her feel at ease and she relaxed next to the fire. Sleep came easy, but she dreamed of war and carnage, and awoke startled more than once that night.

  Seven:

  The first week of Alara’s lessons were over, but she had made no real challenge on the seven people ahead of her. As she gained points so did the others, and even Wheezy had been able to keep up. His knowledge of strategy was far superior to hers and he had finished at the top of the class and received ten credits. Alara had picked up another nine credits through her fitness in the gym, leaving the positions exactly the same as they were in the beginning of week one. However, Spotty had been stricken with a mysterious illness and had lost thirty points in the exams and Alara smiled at the knowledge that there was only ten points between her and P5. The class had finished breakfast and were in the dorms before lessons and as usual they were all going about their separate business. Alara was relaxing in her cot and she carefully turned her death stone end over end, examining each of the crystals in detail as they glistened under the artificial lighting.

  Alara looked up to see several boys were practicing knife throwing at the target and debated with herself about whether to join them or not, but since she had a gym session within the hour she wanted to rest as much as possible. There may be a chance of earning a few credits and pulling away from Wheezy, and she had to make every possibility of credits count. She pulled out the note and read the White Man’s burden again, trying to make sense of the message, when she felt a mental probe. She looked around to see who was trying to scan her, but everyone else seemed to be oblivious to the fact. A quick scan of the room failed to identify the culprit, but then she noticed that Wheezy was next in line for target practice. The mental probe vibrated in her mind again, someone was trying to tell her something. She scanned the room once more, but found nothing. Wheezy was now staring at the target and was warming up his wrist when the mental probe hit Alara again, this time it was more forceful.

  Wheezy lifted an arm to throw and Black said, “Ten credits says he misses.”

  “I’ll take that bet,” Alara shouted back a fraction of a second before Gideon shouted the same thing. Gideon and Black shot a look to A3 who was watching intently.

  “Du Preeze,” he announced, “by a millisecond.”

  “Front and centre Du Preeze,” Gideon commanded, looking at her quizzically. She crossed the room and stood to the left of the target, Black had already made his way to the right hand side. “Ten credits it is then,” he pointed to Wheezy who made a lousy attempt to hit the target and the blade ricocheted onto the floor. “Ten to Black! Du Preeze your call.”

  “Ten says he makes it,” she said, trying
to keep her voice steady.

  “Twenty,” Black said calmly.

  Alara looked at him but Black didn’t take his eyes off of Wheezy. “Accepted,” Alara said through gritted teeth. Wheezy threw and missed the target completely and the knife clattered to the floor behind the pole. Snickers went up around the room but Gideon brought them to order quickly. “Thirty to Black, your bet.”

  “Thirty says he misses.”

  Alara nearly spoke up that it was her bet but she didn’t want to antagonise either Black or Gideon. She ignored the mistake, if this went badly she could claim a fault had been made and score some credits. She nodded, not knowing if her voice would give away her panic, had she let herself walk into another trap? She reached out with her mind toward Wheezy but a mental force field surrounded him. Damn! He made another pathetic attempt and even though he found the edge of the target, his throw was weak and the blade dropped to the floor.

  “Sixty to Black, your bet Du Preeze.”

  “Fifty says he hits!” She called out loudly so that all in the dorm would hear. She looked to Black but he kept his eyes on Wheezy. Alara mentally probed Black, but was pushed back hard. She silently winced in pain.

  “The bet is fifty credits, you do realise that would put you on zero and in so you will be retired immediately?” Gideon asked, taking a blade from his waistband.

  She stared into his eyes looking for any sign of pity, but there was none. The blade glinted in the lights of the barracks and the room was deadly quiet.

  Before she had a chance to answer Black said, “Bet accepted!”

  Wheezy was now physically shaking; Gideon crossed to him and placed his blade in the next available slot in Wheezy’s belt. “I think that this one will stick, should she lose,” he said to Wheezy and returned to the target area. “Throw.”

  Wheezy looked at Alara and his eyes were sad and moistened with tears. She steeled herself and again wondered how such a weakling had made it this far as an apprentice. She tilted her head up and glared back at him. He took aim and missed completely.

  “One hundred to Black, Du Preeze zeroed and retired,” Gideon said coldly and looked toward Wheezy. “If you please Thirty-one?” He motioned toward Alara. Wheezy lifted Gideon’s blade and aimed it at Alara’s neck. She froze on the spot, her mind screamed for her to run, but her body refused to budge.

  “Forfeit,” Black announced, and walked out of the dorm.

  Wheezy dropped the blade and crumpled to the floor. “Forfeit called by Black, all credits reversed. One hundred to Du Preeze.” Gideon examined the boy crying on the floor and retrieved his own blade. “He would probably have missed anyway,” Gideon joked to the rest of the class and went back to his cot. The room erupted in laughter.

  Alara took a moment to breathe and went back to her cot. As she passed Wheezy she gave him a swift kick with her boot and said, “You had your chance, it won’t happen again!”

  She was mentally shaken, but she was damned if she would let the rest of the class see it. She reached into the folds of her shirt and stroked the death stone that pulsed next to her heart. She searched for the message from Lord Osari, wanting to give it a once over before lessons started, but the note had gone missing in all the excitement. Black, that rat bastard, used the wagering as a ruse to steal the note from me and put my life at risk. Revenge will be sweet, she promised herself.

  ***

  A note had been pinned to the notice board earlier that day announcing that the Quartermaster would now be holding weekly meetings with the class. Alara sat in her chair at the back of the mess hall going through her lesson books for the day, secretly searching for the note from Lord Osari, but found nothing. She would need to go to the library sometime during the day and make a copy of the poem. She thought that she’d committed it to memory, but the more she tried to recall the lines, the more she doubted her recollection. She was silently cursing the back of Black's head and wondering if she should confront him, when the Quartermaster brought the room to order.

  “Morning class.” The class fell silent and then replied in unison. Alara mumbled the welcome with no real sincerity. He did a mental count of the room and sighed, “Still thirty-two! I thought that A2’s recommendations would have weeded the group down somewhat by now. Any comments A1?” Gideon shook his head. “It should not be up to me to push this matter class, but my patience is running thin. For this reason I am going to set a precedent that has never been enacted before.” He looked around the room, glaring at everyone in turn. “I am placing a bounty of one hundred credits on each of the bottom seven.” Murmurs and stifled remarks washed over the room. “As usual the bounty is only collectable outside of the building as the thirty-one day grace period is still in place, so I suggest that you all watch your backs on any excursions.” The Quartermaster looked over the class and his eyes met Alara’s, “Du Preeze, stay seated, class dismissed!” The rest of the class left the mess and headed off to the first lesson of the day. The Quartermaster waited for them to go and then motioned for Alara to join him at the front of the mess hall class. “It has not gone unnoticed that you have made up three places Du Preeze. But that still puts you in danger. Some of the Council do not have the faith that you can make up the necessary points, and have suggested a forced retirement.” He examined her facial response but she showed nothing. “What do you say to this apprentice?”

  Alara took a moment to answer, “I’m sure that the Council knows what’s best.”

  “That matters not,” he replied. “For that to happen there needs to be a vote, and since Lord Osari is still on a leave of absence the vote is on hold.”

  Relieved at the news Alara visibly relaxed.

  “It seems you have enemies in high places girl. Any ideas as to why?”

  “No Quartermaster,” she replied, her mind was racing trying to find an answer.

  “Hmmm…” he said rubbing the stubble on his chin. “Lord Osari is due back tonight; may I suggest you bring the matter to his attention at your earliest convenience?”

  “Yes Quartermaster.” The thought of Lord Osari returning that night filled her with excitement. A lot had happened that week and Alara had made a list of all the things she wanted to discuss with him. The news of her having “enemies in high places” shook her, but she mentally added it to the list of questions.

  The Quartermaster sighed and sat next to Alara. “Do you know why we only accept five apprentices into the Guild?”

  “No Quartermaster.” She had heard the dorm rumours that it was due to attrition rates.

  “Assassins are hard to kill, especially the elder members of the Guild, and that can often lead to matters becoming stagnant. In the early days there was no limit to the amount of apprentices being accepted into the Guild, but as our membership grew, the amount of bounties wasn’t enough to keep our brethren active. Many of them became bored and joined various armies in the capacity of mercenaries. Our numbers dwindled and our power to influence the city's policies diminished. There were calls from the more powerful Guilds to eliminate the assassins and pass laws that outlawed the use of our skill set. The Council enforced the rule of five and decreed that any assassin that joined the armies be excommunicated. Those that failed to come back to the Guild were hunted down and retired. The Guild closed ranks and eliminated those politicians that publicly questioned the need for our services, but the problem of us becoming stagnant still remained. The Council, in its infinite wisdom, voted on Law 50 which gave the Council power to retire any assassin that failed to collect on bounties and to set up levels within the bounty system. The more adept our assassins became, so in turn the more challenging and financially profitable the bounties became. Minor bounties are only given to senior assassins as training aides, as were the ones that were given to Lord Osari the day you joined our ranks. It’s important that you understand the need for Law 50 and to respect the Guild's requirement for such a radical approach if you are to join our ranks. I mentioned that you have enemies in the Council
, but what I failed to mention is that you have supporters there too. For the record I am neither, and I have no sway over them. Eyes are on you Du Preeze and they watch your every move. Each of the Council members has at least one sponsored representative in the barracks, but even I do not know who some of them are. The other apprentices come from rich families that have sway on city politicking, and should they make the top five they may eventually have the power to influence our internal policies. This is not acceptable to us, but our laws do not allow us to take direct action on them. The Council has already been infiltrated by the city’s politicians and it’s taken some serious planning to eliminate that threat so far. Lord Osari has been instrumental in this endeavour.” Alara listened carefully, not wishing to break his rhythm. She kept her actions to a minimum, remembering Gideon’s remarks about her body language. “I tell you this because it’s essential that you start playing the game if you are to survive.” He finished and stood to leave the mess.

  Alara managed to start asking a question, but the Quartermaster waved her away and said, “Dismissed apprentice Du Preeze.”

  Alara made her way to the gym and quickly fell in line between the scruffy redheaded girl and the mousy boy, in position twenty-nine. Lord Sirap called for rope climbs, and when it came to her time to race she did well, but still finished last and made no headway on points. Lord Sirap instructed them to take to the common for their daily run; that would take them out of the Killing Grounds and into danger. Since no points were on offer for winning the race, Alara decided to stay around at the back of the pack which negated any attack from the rear, and also gave her time to digest the speech from the Quartermaster. She left the gym and ran onto the outskirts of the common. Winter was starting to settle in and snowflakes fell from the sky in droves. She looked for Wheezy in the crowd of apprentices and tagged onto the back of him. It was difficult to run as slowly as the boy, and his gait was disjointed and clumsy as he attempted to transverse the course around the common. Alara wanted to follow him for four laps and then go on an all out sprint on lap five just to get her body warm and her heart rate up.