Space Assassins: The Complete Series 1-5, page 13
“There. Do you sense it? The weak point you failed to exploit previously?”
“I do,” she said.
“Now, move through the sequence and counter.”
She did, and his muscle memory began countering her counter without requiring thought.
“There. Do you feel that? The control shifting once more?”
“Yes. And it was there that my form was unequal to your attack previously.”
“But now, taking your time, you see the way, do you not?”
Demelza paused a moment, her body feeling the pressure exerted at each contact point between them. At full speed it would be a very different sensation, but the principle was the same. And, she was pleased to note, the correct counter-counter was suddenly as clear as crystal.
She moved slowly, ensuring her motions were perfect.
“Yes, that’s it,” Hozark said, pleased at the speed with which she realized and corrected her prior error.
They flowed through the sequence, then moved into a freestyle adaptation on the theme, utilizing each of their own particular techniques. That was the thing about Wampeh Ghalian. While they trained in dozens upon dozens of martial styles, each Ghalian assassin ultimately developed their own unique form, special only to themselves.
It was what made the assassins so difficult to handle. Where other orders and military units would drill in a fixed set of styles, the Ghalian took what worked for each of them and blended it until they had a deadly series of moves that none could foresee. And, better yet, they knew the rote patterns most of their opponents had memorized, making their slaughter all the easier.
Twenty minutes passed in a flash, as time often did when skilled fighters were practicing their art.
“I’ve greatly enjoyed this session,” Hozark said, dabbing the light shine of sweat from his brow. “We will practice further at a later time. For the moment, however, it is time for the meeting of the Five.”
“The others are here?” Demelza asked, surprised. “All of them?”
“Yes. After what so recently occurred with the Council of Twenty, as well as the reappearance of a formerly deceased Ghalian working for them, it seems we have quite a bit to discuss.”
“Understandable,” she agreed. “May your meeting be productive.”
“And the remainder of your training day be rewarding,” he replied, then took his leave.
* * *
The Five rarely gathered in one place for several reasons, the least of which was the concern of what should happen if all of the Ghalian masters guiding the order fell in an attack.
Their training houses were robustly reinforced with year upon year of defensive spells and wards layered into and around the structure every single time any entered or exited the locations. As such, it would take an attack of extraordinary magnitude to have even the slightest possibility of breaching their defenses.
On top of that, in addition to the assassins and their trainees residing within the walls, if the Five were present, and with the extensive weapons caches at their disposal, their combined, deadly skills could make a five-on-one-thousand battle seem almost trivial, depending on the enemy.
Master Corann, the head of the Five, was in her seat atop the low platform the masters often used while observing the young trainees as they demonstrated their progression in the Wampeh Ghalian’s deadly arts. But today, there were no students present in the chamber. Today, they had things of great weight to discuss.
The others were there as well. Master Varsuvala sat to Corann’s right, as she often did. Masters Falsam and Prombatz were chatting off to her left, the young, androgynous assassin and the elder Ghalian engaged in an energetic discussion.
Hozark completed the group, and he had to admit, it was nice having all of them together again, even if for just a short while.
“The youngster is quite talented,” Varsuvala said as Hozark took a seat with the others. “Not only is she proving quite adept in her continued training, but she is also a great help teaching the novices.”
“It is our way, Varsuvala,” he replied.
“Yes, but not all thrive as she does. The woman possesses skills.”
“That she does,” Hozark agreed. “She is exceptionally talented for one of her years.”
“And she took down a full-blooded visla. A rather powerful one at that.”
“To be fair, he was distracted by Hozark and Samara’s battle,” Master Prombatz noted.
“True, but regardless, it was still no easy task, especially for less than a master of the order.”
“On this we are in agreement,” the older Ghalian replied. “She is a valuable asset, and a credit to her teachers. We are fortunate she was paired with you, Hozark.”
“So it would seem,” he replied.
Corann sensed his reticence. The Wampeh Ghalian always worked alone, and having a partner thrust upon him had been a bit disconcerting, to say the least. Nevertheless, the young woman he had been saddled with had done an admiral job, and even Hozark had to admit his pleasure with her performance.
“It seems Demelza’s attempt to acquire a blade from Master Orkut has proven beneficial in unexpected ways,” Corann continued. “While she was successful in finding the man in the first place––no easy task, I would add––it will take time for her to work her way into his good graces enough for him to forge her an enchanted blade. And even then, he’d likely never make a vespus for her.”
“Honestly, I’m surprised he made yours, Hozark,” Master Falsam chimed in. “Though he only makes them for masters of our order, he hasn’t crafted one in many, many years. In fact, I thought he’d sworn off the practice entirely.”
“I learned why,” Hozark said. “It would seem Orkut has family he wishes to keep safe from possible reprisal if it should be known he is working with the Wampeh Ghalian. Apparently, one of his sons possesses his father’s gift, and he has been trained in the crafts.”
“Another bladesmith of Orkut’s line? No wonder he went silent,” Varsuvala mused.
“Indeed,” Hozark replied. “He hopes his family will be able to live a normal life, free of the dangers associated with working for our order. But should the old man fall one day, and we truly be in need, the five in this room now know of his son’s existence. Of his gifts.”
“And it shall be kept in the closest of confidence,” Corann said. “Only the Five.”
“Agreed,” the others said. And so it was that Orkut’s son was out of harm’s way. For the time being, at least.
“Now, Hozark. About this last contract. We know you had an unexpected run-in with our presumed dead sister. But you also learned something else?” Corann asked.
“Yes. My two recent contracts appear to have been quite well acquainted. But more than that, they were involved in some shady affairs with one another for some time.”
“Visla Horvath was working with Emmik Rostall?” Falsam asked.
“Indeed. And he was sending magically charged weaponry to Visla Horvath before I even engaged him.”
“Fascinating,” Corann said. “It seems there is a quiet power struggle at play within the Council of Twenty. And it seems these two were making serious moves to snatch up more control.”
“Yes and no,” Hozark interjected. “You see, there is more. A rumor. Word that there is another pulling their strings, and quite possibly without their even knowing about it.”
“Do we know whom?” Corann asked.
“A few names have been bandied about, even Maktan.”
“Maktan?” she said. “He’s one of the most docile of the Council of Twenty. In fact, he’s always seemed rather benign. For a Council member, that is.”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” Hozark noted, citing a Ghalian adage they lived and died by.
“As we know quite well,” Corann replied. “But whatever is at play, his Ghalian advantage is no more. Samara is dead once again, courtesy of your friend’s ship blasting her from the sky.”
“Uzabud’s new partner, yes. Quite a shot, that one. But I still have my doubts about her demise.”
“Caution is prudent,” she replied. “But let us also not forget that the details of the event have been corroborated by our agents in the system. Her ship was destroyed trying to flee after you executed her employer. She was shot from the sky as she attempted to flee her lost cause.”
Hozark nodded slowly. “This is true, Corann. Yet, again, I still have my doubts.”
“Of course. This is Samara we are talking about, and you do know her better than anyone else,” she said, careful not to twist the emotional knife still stuck in Hozark’s back.
Samara had faked her death and vanished, and none would take it as personally as he.
“She always was a rather talented swordswoman,” Corann said, shifting the topic. “One of our best, in fact. I take it your new vespus blade proved worth the effort to procure?”
“More than you can imagine.”
“I can imagine quite a lot, my friend. But we have matters at hand we do not need to imagine. Several high-end jobs have just been accepted by the order. Risky, difficult, and Council-affiliated targets, most requiring a master’s touch.”
At this news, the others perked up. “Oh, really?” Falsam said, relishing the thought of a new contract.
“Indeed,” she replied. “I will get each of you details for your contracts, and we shall begin at once.”
Chapter Five
“Master Hozark, your presence is requested at the entry hall,” a young aspirant informed the seated master as he studied one of the ancient scrolls of Ghalian spells.
“Oh?” Hozark said, looking up at the young woman.
“Yes.”
“What is it?” he replied.
“Something most unusual,” the young Wampeh replied. “There is a man. He entered the foyer and has been pounding on the inner doors for nearly five minutes.”
“And no one has disposed of him?” Hozark asked. “You realize, it is somewhat out of the norm to request one of the Five for so simple a matter, do you not?”
“Ah, apologies, Master Hozark. But, well, that’s the thing,” the youth replied. “You see, this man. He is calling for you.”
Hozark’s face remained neutral, not betraying his surprise. “This man. Does he happen to wear any pirate’s garb in his attire, by any chance?”
“Actually, he does. How did you know?”
“Uzabud,” the master assassin said, sighing quietly. “What in the worlds are you doing here, old friend?” He turned to the young Wampeh. “Thank you. I shall handle our guest from here.”
“As you wish, Master Hozark,” the youth replied, leaving him to deal with the unexpected intruder, allowing her to return to her regular duties.
Hozark quickly strode through the halls to the entryway. As was the case in every Wampeh Ghalian training house, it was a false entry, of course, and warded to boot. There was no worry whatsoever of anyone actually breaching the interior of their facility.
Still, most gave up and walked away upon a lengthy lack of reply from the property’s overseers. But Uzabud was camped out in the foyer and didn’t seem to be going anywhere. He was stubborn, for certain, but not impulsively foolish.
For him to actually fly all the way to this world and come to the training house’s door was beyond unusual. And unusual could be fatal, where the Wampeh Ghalian were involved. Especially if one were to be perceived as intruding on their privacy.
Fortunately, the young aspirant had notified Hozark rather than another of the masters, likely avoiding what could have been a rather unpleasant end for his friend. After so many years working together, that would have been a terrible shame.
The unusual thing about this was they had actually only parted ways a short time before. Mere weeks, in fact. Their last job together had gone a bit sideways, even though Master Horvath had fallen as intended when the contract was completed.
But at the end of it all, Samara, back from the dead, much to Hozark’s surprise, had thrown them for a loop before meeting her death once again. It was an unusual turn of events, and a particularly difficult job, during which Bud had performed admirably.
Despite his somewhat checkered past, Uzabud had always been a rock-solid and trustworthy asset, and one Hozark could call upon without any concern for his abilities or discretion. For him to now show up unexpectedly at the secret training house that only a handful of non-Ghalian even knew existed hinted that something of great urgency was afoot.
And Hozark would be finding out what that was far sooner than later.
“You know, dropping in on a Ghalian training house unannounced and pounding on the doors is a good way to get yourself killed, Bud,” Hozark said as he approached his friend from behind in the entryway.
Uzabud spun at his friend’s voice. “How did you get over there? I didn’t see you come in.”
“I have my ways, my friend,” the assassin replied with a little grin.
Despite the many skills he’d learned in his stint as a pirate and overall man of action and adventure, Uzabud was nevertheless an unpowered man. He had no magic within him whatsoever, and no knack for sniffing out wards and illusions on his own.
And his konus was not attuned to the particular spells used to detect hidden doorways such as the one Hozark had just used. Even if it was, it wouldn’t have mattered. Not here, anyway. This was a Ghalian compound, and anyone short of a visla would be very hard-pressed finding the actual entryway.
“So, you’ve come all the way to this place seeking me out. You could have simply skreed me, you know. Or reached out to Demelza. She’d have relayed your message.”
“I did call you, but you didn’t answer your skree. And I had no idea Demelza was still with you. I thought she’d have gone back to serve Orkut by now. She was pretty anxious to have him make her that blade.”
“Yes, but there were valuable things for her to learn before returning. And so long as she is away from his service, she and I are bound to work with one another, as Orkut required of me when he completed my vespus blade, as you know.”
“So why didn’t you just answer the call, then? It’s not like you were on some top-secret assignment,” Bud said. “You weren’t on another job, were you? I mean, if you were, you know you could have called me if you needed a hand.”
“I was not on a contract, Bud,” Hozark replied. “And inside of these walls, I do not carry my skree with me at all times. To do so is distasteful. But I would have seen your message soon enough, so why the impatience?”
“I’m sorry, but there was just no time to wait, Hozark. Something’s gone wrong.”
“Normal, for our lines of work.”
“Yeah, sure. But this time, it’s something different. Laskar has been taken prisoner.”
Hozark shook his head. Uzabud’s new copilot and partner grated on his nerves more than a little bit. Yes, Laskar was a skilled pilot, and he had proven his worth on their recent, disastrous job. But his cocky overconfidence grew tiresome quite quickly.
“Taken prisoner, you say? Once again, you illustrate the reason that you and I do not normally have partners, Bud. We are men of action, and of a particular type. We work far better alone, you and I.”
“Normally, yes. But he’s proven himself to be a really good asset. I mean, you saw how he flies. And the guy is fearless.”
“True,” the assassin replied, “but, again, it is precisely this sort of incident that drives home why we do not have partners.”
“You and Demelza have made a good team,” Bud noted.
“Yes, she is quite skilled. But this is temporary, and it was not by intention. I was saddled with my partner at the direction of Master Orkut. I’d not have accepted her otherwise. You, on the other hand, selected yours of your own free will.”
“And he was captured.”
“Indeed, the fool,” Hozark said with a bit of disdain.
“Sure, he’s a bit of a pain at times, I’ll admit. Hell, I know I’ve wanted to smack that cocky grin off his face more than once. But this is different. He was gathering information on what Visla Horvath and the Council of Twenty were up to when he was caught, Hozark. How Samara came to not only be alive, but working with her former enemies. He was digging up intel for you.”
“Why would he do that?”
“After what happened on the job at Visla Horvath’s compound, he felt he owed you one and wanted to do something to be helpful. So he was snooping for dirt on who else Visla Horvath had been coordinating with, in hopes it would prove useful to you.”
Hozark sighed, shaking his head. “And just as I was satisfied disliking the man, he has to go and do something like this,” the master assassin said, pondering the situation a long moment. “I see where this is going, Bud. You have an abundance of skills, and a treasure trove of unsavory contacts and shady friends from your pirating and smuggling days. If you’ve come to me, it must truly be bad.”
“It is. Trust me, it is.”
“Very well, then,” he sighed. “How bad is it? Where exactly is he?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s the problem,” Bud said. “Laskar’s being held in Visla Sunar’s estate. On Ahkrahn.”
Hozark sighed. It was even worse than he’d imagined. “It’s never easy with you, is it, Bud?”
“But that’s why you love me.”
“A Ghalian loves no one,” he replied with a straight face. “But let us see about retrieving your friend. Ideally, before his head is separated from his neck.”
Chapter Six
Hozark watched the two young Wampeh locked in battle. Each was in their early twenties, fighting with great focus as they moved through a flowing combat session, sparring at top speed with both blades and konuses. The weapons, unlike those used by the younger trainees, were honed to razor sharpness, though their konuses were operating at a somewhat reduced level.
To feel the brunt of one of their magical attacks would likely not be fatal, but it would certainly cause damage. The blades, however, could prove deadly, though they were moving for mostly less than fatal strikes. It was training, after all, and though the healers could remedy any damage incurred, none wished to have to visit them.
