Space Assassins: The Complete Series 1-5, page 53
“Cool! I wanna go with next time!”
The assassins shared a look.
“Henni, I know you are used to the rough streets of Groll, but this is a different sort of world. And the risks are many, and not the type you are used to.”
“So? Everywhere’s dangerous, you guys. And I know I can help.”
The two assassins knew far too well what having an unpredictable element like the young violet-haired woman embedded in an operation could do to their whole plan.
She had survived on Groll, sure. But this was different. This was an active deception plan, and a somewhat delicate one at that. Henni’s impulsive and rather lippy nature could cause far more damage than she realized, and fast.
“Come on. You can’t lock me in here forever!”
“Henni, it has only been an afternoon,” Hozark said.
“You know what I mean. I need to be out doing something. I’m gonna earn my keep!”
“You are welcome here with no payment required,” he said. “This was not a condition of your coming with us.”
“But I want to help.”
“Again, your enthusiasm is appreciated, but you are not obligated to put yourself at risk.”
“Hozark is right,” Demelza said. “Just stay here and relax for a bit. We should be done on this world relatively shortly.”
This was not what the young woman wanted to hear. The thrown piece of bread stuck to the wall, leaving a trail of preserves as it slowly slid to the deck.
“If you don’t take me with, then dump me here!”
“We are not dumping you, Henni.”
“If you don’t take me with, I am going to trash this ship. You don’t think I will? You know I can.”
Hozark sighed. This was the sort of thing that he did not need on board his craft. But one worked with what one had, and he had a moody young woman of unknown abilities on his ship. And she was pissed.
Reluctantly, he accepted the reality that Henni was going to have to be let out, one way or another. He just hoped he could do so in a way that would not negatively affect their plans. The girl was erratic and would have to be steered clear of any sensitive dealings, but she did have skills.
“All right, Henni. You make a valid argument,” Hozark said. “And we actually could use your particular expertise. But only if you’re up for it. This will be a difficult task.”
“I can do it. I’m part of the team!” the girl chirped.
Hozark was not fond of the increasing frequency that word was being used of late, but he let it slide in the interest of minimizing the girl’s potential damage.
“Yes, you are,” he said. “And you have a very important job to do.”
It actually was an important job. If she could manage to do it stealthily, that is. But that was something she was actually pretty good at back on Groll.
Hozark tasked her with being their scout on the ground. Their secret eyes and ears. While he and Demelza played the part of distraught parents hiring the Tslavars to find their son, Henni would watch and listen and report back all that she learned.
It was something they would do repeatedly, as each of the different cities across the planet were essentially their own domains. And the big dogs of each tended to stick to their own turf, where they controlled things with an iron fist.
Of course, the Tslavars did still know quite a few of their brethren––especially the power players––but the odds of them sharing that they’d scored a lucrative side gig were slim.
Even if they did discuss it, all that would do is put both parties on higher alert to complete the task first and claim the remaining payment for themselves. If the strange couple had paid the same sizable deposit to another Tslavar captain, then they must truly have a lot of coin at their disposal.
And coin spoke louder than words. On top of that, knowing there was another on the job would be quite an incentive. More often than not, a little competition was just what a man needed to motivate him to go that extra mile.
“Prepare yourself, Henni. We will arrive in our next landing site shortly.”
“On it, Captain!” the young woman said with glee, then raced off to get ready, whatever that entailed.
Hozark flew them to the next of the main cities at a somewhat hurried pace. His landing was likewise a bit rushed, all the better to maintain the impression of someone operating on a ticking clock. From the moment they were visible as a speck on the horizon to the time they vanished into the sky, they were playing a part, and everything they did had to reinforce those performances.
They would set down and head off into the city, making themselves visible, as they’d previously done. All attention would be on them when their little friend would sneak out of the small access hatch at the opposite end of the craft. If done properly, no one would notice a thing, and she could go about her task with ease.
“What in the worlds?” Demelza said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“What?” Henni asked as she strutted into the command center.
“Oh, no. No, that is not what we had in mind,” Demelza said, eyeing the foul bundle of clothing Henni had recovered from its sealed storage bin. “We will have to burn those.”
“Hands off!” Henni hissed. “No one messes with my stuff. These are mine!”
“Believe me, I have no wish to put my hands anywhere near those rags.”
Hozark chuckled. “She does have a point. She will be not only invisible, but actively repulsive with this outfit.”
“So I keep them, right?”
“Yes, Henni. You keep them, but you bathe as soon as we return. And those stay sealed in storage when they are not in use, understood?”
“Deal.”
“All right, then,” he said, walking to the door with Demelza at his side. “Let us begin.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The leader of the Tslavar mercenary band in the next city they arrived at was a gargantuan woman named Blatzik. For a woman to lead so rough and ready a group of hired killers truly said something about her drive and abilities, for while gender often played no role in a person’s career, in this particular line of work, men tended to rise to the top.
The violent, aggressive, and dangerous ones.
When Hozark and Demelza saw Blatzik, they immediately placed her in the “threat level high” category. What she would have had to do to reach this pinnacle could only be guessed. Likely because those who might have been able to talk had been slaughtered and fed to the Bundabist corralled in the pen outside. To underestimate her would be true folly.
Her men and women were as loyal as they were dangerous, and, unlike the previous location’s hub of Tslavar activity, the mercenaries in this place were all on their best behavior. At least, inside of Blatzik’s base of operations.
Hozark had anticipated another, “What the hells do you want?” line of greeting from the Tslavar welcoming committee, but instead, all he got was a cold, calculating stare that took in both he and his alleged spouse. He fidgeted and shifted his weight from foot to foot, acting unsettled under the woman’s intense gaze.
Demelza simply looked down at the ground in front of her. Lowering the eyes was a demure posturing that would be taken for subservience by many, but it served another purpose. For with her eyes gazing down, but ahead, the assassin’s peripheral vision could easily count and track the others in the room.
But they had not come to fight. They had come to hire this woman and her crew.
“Uh, we thought this was the place to come to hire the best tracking crew on the planet,” Hozark said, a faint waver in his voice. “Should we go?”
Blatzik spoke at long last.
“Oh, you’re in the right place, all right. But what I can’t figure out is what a pair of upper-crust socialites like you are doing in my turf. You can’t be here for trade. You haven’t brought a thing with you. And you don’t look like couriers. So tell me, why are you on my doorstep?”
“Doorstep?” Hozark asked, confused. “B-but, we’re inside.”
“It’s a figure of speech, little man,” Blatzik replied.
She then shifted her attention to the buxom woman this pathetic male had somehow landed as his own. Not bad, and curves in all the right places. On top of that, she seemed solid beneath her feminine exterior. Blatzik thought this one could be a lot of fun. But first, she had to find out their true reason for coming.
“Well? Speak up. Why have you come here?”
Demelza read the woman’s gaze quickly, as had her partner, and they silently shifted their plan accordingly without so much as a word or a glance.
“If I may speak, we have come because we need your services,” Demelza said.
“My services? Oh, dear, you have no idea what services I can offer you.”
Demelza’s cheeks flushed deep red––a nice trick she’d practiced for years––but she continued.
“Yes. It is said that you are the best on this planet. In this system, for that matter. And we need your help. Our son has gone missing. At first, we were certain he ran away. You know how boys can sometimes be,” she said, her gaze locking on the intimidating woman’s eyes. “But it is looking as if he may have been abducted.”
“Abducted?” Blatzik asked. “You get a ransom demand?”
“No.”
“Then why do you think he’s been snatched up? Seems out of character to kidnap a boy and not ransom him.”
Hozark took a timid step forward. “I had a local investigator from our system ask questions. He had to spread a lot of coin, but eventually, word of him was received. He’d been seen in the company of rough men. He doesn’t have any friends like that. I’m sure he was taken.”
“Or ran away precisely because he wanted to be with those ‘rough men,’” the Tslavar said. “In any case, why is this my concern?”
Hozark nodded to Demelza. She pulled out a hefty bag of coin and timidly walked close to the sturdy Tslavar woman. “We will pay well to find our boy,” she said, handing the pouch over.
Blatzik weighed it in her hand.
“A sizable sum, indeed. But not nearly enough for what you’re asking.”
“There is more if you are successful. Five times that amount if you provide us accurate information about our son’s whereabouts. Ten times that amount if you also find who took him,” she said.
That got the woman’s attention. It was a lot of coin for so little work. Sure, it would be time consuming, but she had crews running across the systems. It wouldn’t cost her a thing to simply have them keep a look out for the boy in the process.
“Well, then,” she said, leaning closer to Demelza. “It looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal.”
With that, the couple gave the woman their skree contact and made a hasty exit. As they walked, they sniffed the air. Even dulled senses could have picked up that particularly pungent aroma.
“She is close,” Demelza said quietly as she and Hozark walked back toward their ship.
“Yes, I can smell her too.”
“We really must at least clean the stench from her rags, if we can’t burn them entirely.”
Hozark’s attention shifted, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Darling, you’ve been so brave during this ordeal. Please, go back to our ship and rest while I handle one last task before we depart.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes. Now that we are allied with Blatzik, I am confident all will be okay.”
The mention of their ties to the Tslavar boss immediately sent any who had any thoughts of assaulting the woman as she walked back the remaining distance to the ship on her own change their minds. Blatzik was one they did not want to cross, no matter how tempting the score.
“Very well, my love. But do hurry back to me.”
“I will not dally any longer than needed, my sweet.”
Demelza continued on her way, while Hozark turned down a side alley leading to a small marketplace of sorts, following the sound of boots all the while. Many boots, and all of them in an angry hurry. They were pursuing someone. And from the smell lingering in the air, he knew who it was.
This was getting more and more complicated. And he was going to have to act fast.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hozark walked as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. At least, not any more than his appearance already did. He was disguised as a fancy man, but this was almost certainly going to call for far less foppish behavior.
Unfortunately, he found himself constrained by their recent operation’s disguise. Looking as he did, he simply could not be seen engaging in violence. Not after the show he and Demelza had just put on.
It would ruin their cover, and not only in this city, but potentially the others they visited as well. Word would get out, and no one else looked like they did.
Hozark casually veered across the marketplace toward the animal and food vendors. As he passed, he cast a little spell. One that knocked free the gate of the Bundabist pen in the closest market stall. On top of that, he threw in a quaint little spell he rarely had use of. The one that gave the sensation of stinging insects.
He quickly applied it to the animals, and the agitated beasts wasted no time making a raucous escape. It was what he needed. Attentions shifted, even if just for a few moments, and in the confusion, Hozark lifted a long, filthy cloak from one of the animal herders’ stands.
He had made sure none were looking his way, of course, then slid it on in a flash, and in an instant, he had vanished down the alleyway, his makeshift disguise in place as well as it could be.
The sound of racing boots was close, but less in number now. Whoever they were chasing must have either been cornered or caught, and the pursuit had finally come to an end.
Close ahead, around just a few more turns of the alleyway, a deep voice was saying something in a very angry tone. Judging by the grunts of the owners of the other boots, what he was saying rang true with them all.
Henni, what have you done? Hozark wondered as he came upon the group of angry men.
The violet-haired girl was there at the far end of the tiny dead-end alley, her back to the wall, a small, yet dangerous-looking blade flashing in her hand. She was waving it in front of her, keeping the men at bay, though the stench of her clothing might have served the purpose just as well. At least, in most circumstances.
Whatever she had done, it must have been bad, because these fellows were more than ready to get up close and personal. Hell, they were even looking forward to it.
The most vocal of the angry mob seemed to speak for the rest of them when he quite loudly voiced his outrage.
“Bitch, give me back my blade. That was my father’s!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Henni shot back. “What blade?”
“What the hell are you talking about? You’re waving it around in your hand, you little whore.”
“I am not a whore,” she shrieked, slashing at the man.
Apparently, he had touched a nerve, but the others quickly jumped in, all yelling at once about the things of value that had gone missing from their persons.
The thing about Henni was, she was an exceptional pickpocket. Possibly better than Hozark, even. But she lacked the restraint to know when not to take something. She was impulsive, and that led to bad choices. But a crowd this size? There was no way she had stolen all the items she was being accused of taking.
Somewhere in the city, more than one thief was resting easy now that their crimes had been foisted off on the offworld criminal. A brutish man lurched forward and swung a stout club at the violet-haired girl. It missed her blade hand, but it caught her other arm with a sickening crunch.
Henni shrieked in pain, but the man moved in for the kill.
“I’ll take that,” Hozark said, snatching the cudgel from the man’s hand just as he was about to deliver another blow.
“You with her?” the man growled, his and the crowd’s anger rising.
“No. But this is merely a girl, and surely––”
A hot spray of blood splashed across the nearest attackers. The club wielder had tried to land a surprise attack on the interloper with a hidden blade. A hidden blade Hozark had seen before the man had even reached for it. When it had finally been drawn and swung at the newcomer, simply taking it from him and turning it against its owner had been child’s play.
And now the man lay bleeding on the ground. Nothing fatal. Hozark did not want to kill any of these men and women. But an example had been made.
Unfortunately, the mob had the mentality of, well, a mob, and rather than back off in realization they were up against someone who would actually fight back, and efficiently at that, they only ramped up their aggression.
Henni shrieked as another man grabbed her roughly by the broken arm. He was dead before he hit the ground, the blade taken from the previous assailant lodged hilt-deep in his eye.
“Enough! Leave now, while you still can,” Hozark growled.
“He’s with the thief! Get him!” an outraged woman yelled in a shrill cry.
“Damn it,” Hozark sighed, then set to work, fending off attackers from all sides, and coming at him with a wide assortment of weapons.
Two large men charged with makeshift pikes. Really, they were just broom handles that had been snapped to a point, but the effect would be the same. Namely, a big hole in you if you misjudged their trajectory.
Hozark spun aside, breaking one in half with his boot, and pivoting sharply, grabbing and driving the other length into a woman attacking him from the other side. She dropped in a screaming heap, the rod protruding from her belly.
She would live. Probably. But Hozark still had a great deal of attackers to handle, and in a very tight space.
Elbows flew, and debilitating knees dropped into oncoming attackers’ thighs, cramping them painfully and taking them out of the equation. But still more came, believing that they had the advantage because of their numbers.
They couldn’t have been more wrong. But Hozark was doing all he could to spare the poor yokels, but with odds like these, it was taking much of his skill to avoid landing fatal blows.
The assassins shared a look.
“Henni, I know you are used to the rough streets of Groll, but this is a different sort of world. And the risks are many, and not the type you are used to.”
“So? Everywhere’s dangerous, you guys. And I know I can help.”
The two assassins knew far too well what having an unpredictable element like the young violet-haired woman embedded in an operation could do to their whole plan.
She had survived on Groll, sure. But this was different. This was an active deception plan, and a somewhat delicate one at that. Henni’s impulsive and rather lippy nature could cause far more damage than she realized, and fast.
“Come on. You can’t lock me in here forever!”
“Henni, it has only been an afternoon,” Hozark said.
“You know what I mean. I need to be out doing something. I’m gonna earn my keep!”
“You are welcome here with no payment required,” he said. “This was not a condition of your coming with us.”
“But I want to help.”
“Again, your enthusiasm is appreciated, but you are not obligated to put yourself at risk.”
“Hozark is right,” Demelza said. “Just stay here and relax for a bit. We should be done on this world relatively shortly.”
This was not what the young woman wanted to hear. The thrown piece of bread stuck to the wall, leaving a trail of preserves as it slowly slid to the deck.
“If you don’t take me with, then dump me here!”
“We are not dumping you, Henni.”
“If you don’t take me with, I am going to trash this ship. You don’t think I will? You know I can.”
Hozark sighed. This was the sort of thing that he did not need on board his craft. But one worked with what one had, and he had a moody young woman of unknown abilities on his ship. And she was pissed.
Reluctantly, he accepted the reality that Henni was going to have to be let out, one way or another. He just hoped he could do so in a way that would not negatively affect their plans. The girl was erratic and would have to be steered clear of any sensitive dealings, but she did have skills.
“All right, Henni. You make a valid argument,” Hozark said. “And we actually could use your particular expertise. But only if you’re up for it. This will be a difficult task.”
“I can do it. I’m part of the team!” the girl chirped.
Hozark was not fond of the increasing frequency that word was being used of late, but he let it slide in the interest of minimizing the girl’s potential damage.
“Yes, you are,” he said. “And you have a very important job to do.”
It actually was an important job. If she could manage to do it stealthily, that is. But that was something she was actually pretty good at back on Groll.
Hozark tasked her with being their scout on the ground. Their secret eyes and ears. While he and Demelza played the part of distraught parents hiring the Tslavars to find their son, Henni would watch and listen and report back all that she learned.
It was something they would do repeatedly, as each of the different cities across the planet were essentially their own domains. And the big dogs of each tended to stick to their own turf, where they controlled things with an iron fist.
Of course, the Tslavars did still know quite a few of their brethren––especially the power players––but the odds of them sharing that they’d scored a lucrative side gig were slim.
Even if they did discuss it, all that would do is put both parties on higher alert to complete the task first and claim the remaining payment for themselves. If the strange couple had paid the same sizable deposit to another Tslavar captain, then they must truly have a lot of coin at their disposal.
And coin spoke louder than words. On top of that, knowing there was another on the job would be quite an incentive. More often than not, a little competition was just what a man needed to motivate him to go that extra mile.
“Prepare yourself, Henni. We will arrive in our next landing site shortly.”
“On it, Captain!” the young woman said with glee, then raced off to get ready, whatever that entailed.
Hozark flew them to the next of the main cities at a somewhat hurried pace. His landing was likewise a bit rushed, all the better to maintain the impression of someone operating on a ticking clock. From the moment they were visible as a speck on the horizon to the time they vanished into the sky, they were playing a part, and everything they did had to reinforce those performances.
They would set down and head off into the city, making themselves visible, as they’d previously done. All attention would be on them when their little friend would sneak out of the small access hatch at the opposite end of the craft. If done properly, no one would notice a thing, and she could go about her task with ease.
“What in the worlds?” Demelza said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“What?” Henni asked as she strutted into the command center.
“Oh, no. No, that is not what we had in mind,” Demelza said, eyeing the foul bundle of clothing Henni had recovered from its sealed storage bin. “We will have to burn those.”
“Hands off!” Henni hissed. “No one messes with my stuff. These are mine!”
“Believe me, I have no wish to put my hands anywhere near those rags.”
Hozark chuckled. “She does have a point. She will be not only invisible, but actively repulsive with this outfit.”
“So I keep them, right?”
“Yes, Henni. You keep them, but you bathe as soon as we return. And those stay sealed in storage when they are not in use, understood?”
“Deal.”
“All right, then,” he said, walking to the door with Demelza at his side. “Let us begin.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The leader of the Tslavar mercenary band in the next city they arrived at was a gargantuan woman named Blatzik. For a woman to lead so rough and ready a group of hired killers truly said something about her drive and abilities, for while gender often played no role in a person’s career, in this particular line of work, men tended to rise to the top.
The violent, aggressive, and dangerous ones.
When Hozark and Demelza saw Blatzik, they immediately placed her in the “threat level high” category. What she would have had to do to reach this pinnacle could only be guessed. Likely because those who might have been able to talk had been slaughtered and fed to the Bundabist corralled in the pen outside. To underestimate her would be true folly.
Her men and women were as loyal as they were dangerous, and, unlike the previous location’s hub of Tslavar activity, the mercenaries in this place were all on their best behavior. At least, inside of Blatzik’s base of operations.
Hozark had anticipated another, “What the hells do you want?” line of greeting from the Tslavar welcoming committee, but instead, all he got was a cold, calculating stare that took in both he and his alleged spouse. He fidgeted and shifted his weight from foot to foot, acting unsettled under the woman’s intense gaze.
Demelza simply looked down at the ground in front of her. Lowering the eyes was a demure posturing that would be taken for subservience by many, but it served another purpose. For with her eyes gazing down, but ahead, the assassin’s peripheral vision could easily count and track the others in the room.
But they had not come to fight. They had come to hire this woman and her crew.
“Uh, we thought this was the place to come to hire the best tracking crew on the planet,” Hozark said, a faint waver in his voice. “Should we go?”
Blatzik spoke at long last.
“Oh, you’re in the right place, all right. But what I can’t figure out is what a pair of upper-crust socialites like you are doing in my turf. You can’t be here for trade. You haven’t brought a thing with you. And you don’t look like couriers. So tell me, why are you on my doorstep?”
“Doorstep?” Hozark asked, confused. “B-but, we’re inside.”
“It’s a figure of speech, little man,” Blatzik replied.
She then shifted her attention to the buxom woman this pathetic male had somehow landed as his own. Not bad, and curves in all the right places. On top of that, she seemed solid beneath her feminine exterior. Blatzik thought this one could be a lot of fun. But first, she had to find out their true reason for coming.
“Well? Speak up. Why have you come here?”
Demelza read the woman’s gaze quickly, as had her partner, and they silently shifted their plan accordingly without so much as a word or a glance.
“If I may speak, we have come because we need your services,” Demelza said.
“My services? Oh, dear, you have no idea what services I can offer you.”
Demelza’s cheeks flushed deep red––a nice trick she’d practiced for years––but she continued.
“Yes. It is said that you are the best on this planet. In this system, for that matter. And we need your help. Our son has gone missing. At first, we were certain he ran away. You know how boys can sometimes be,” she said, her gaze locking on the intimidating woman’s eyes. “But it is looking as if he may have been abducted.”
“Abducted?” Blatzik asked. “You get a ransom demand?”
“No.”
“Then why do you think he’s been snatched up? Seems out of character to kidnap a boy and not ransom him.”
Hozark took a timid step forward. “I had a local investigator from our system ask questions. He had to spread a lot of coin, but eventually, word of him was received. He’d been seen in the company of rough men. He doesn’t have any friends like that. I’m sure he was taken.”
“Or ran away precisely because he wanted to be with those ‘rough men,’” the Tslavar said. “In any case, why is this my concern?”
Hozark nodded to Demelza. She pulled out a hefty bag of coin and timidly walked close to the sturdy Tslavar woman. “We will pay well to find our boy,” she said, handing the pouch over.
Blatzik weighed it in her hand.
“A sizable sum, indeed. But not nearly enough for what you’re asking.”
“There is more if you are successful. Five times that amount if you provide us accurate information about our son’s whereabouts. Ten times that amount if you also find who took him,” she said.
That got the woman’s attention. It was a lot of coin for so little work. Sure, it would be time consuming, but she had crews running across the systems. It wouldn’t cost her a thing to simply have them keep a look out for the boy in the process.
“Well, then,” she said, leaning closer to Demelza. “It looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal.”
With that, the couple gave the woman their skree contact and made a hasty exit. As they walked, they sniffed the air. Even dulled senses could have picked up that particularly pungent aroma.
“She is close,” Demelza said quietly as she and Hozark walked back toward their ship.
“Yes, I can smell her too.”
“We really must at least clean the stench from her rags, if we can’t burn them entirely.”
Hozark’s attention shifted, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Darling, you’ve been so brave during this ordeal. Please, go back to our ship and rest while I handle one last task before we depart.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes. Now that we are allied with Blatzik, I am confident all will be okay.”
The mention of their ties to the Tslavar boss immediately sent any who had any thoughts of assaulting the woman as she walked back the remaining distance to the ship on her own change their minds. Blatzik was one they did not want to cross, no matter how tempting the score.
“Very well, my love. But do hurry back to me.”
“I will not dally any longer than needed, my sweet.”
Demelza continued on her way, while Hozark turned down a side alley leading to a small marketplace of sorts, following the sound of boots all the while. Many boots, and all of them in an angry hurry. They were pursuing someone. And from the smell lingering in the air, he knew who it was.
This was getting more and more complicated. And he was going to have to act fast.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hozark walked as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. At least, not any more than his appearance already did. He was disguised as a fancy man, but this was almost certainly going to call for far less foppish behavior.
Unfortunately, he found himself constrained by their recent operation’s disguise. Looking as he did, he simply could not be seen engaging in violence. Not after the show he and Demelza had just put on.
It would ruin their cover, and not only in this city, but potentially the others they visited as well. Word would get out, and no one else looked like they did.
Hozark casually veered across the marketplace toward the animal and food vendors. As he passed, he cast a little spell. One that knocked free the gate of the Bundabist pen in the closest market stall. On top of that, he threw in a quaint little spell he rarely had use of. The one that gave the sensation of stinging insects.
He quickly applied it to the animals, and the agitated beasts wasted no time making a raucous escape. It was what he needed. Attentions shifted, even if just for a few moments, and in the confusion, Hozark lifted a long, filthy cloak from one of the animal herders’ stands.
He had made sure none were looking his way, of course, then slid it on in a flash, and in an instant, he had vanished down the alleyway, his makeshift disguise in place as well as it could be.
The sound of racing boots was close, but less in number now. Whoever they were chasing must have either been cornered or caught, and the pursuit had finally come to an end.
Close ahead, around just a few more turns of the alleyway, a deep voice was saying something in a very angry tone. Judging by the grunts of the owners of the other boots, what he was saying rang true with them all.
Henni, what have you done? Hozark wondered as he came upon the group of angry men.
The violet-haired girl was there at the far end of the tiny dead-end alley, her back to the wall, a small, yet dangerous-looking blade flashing in her hand. She was waving it in front of her, keeping the men at bay, though the stench of her clothing might have served the purpose just as well. At least, in most circumstances.
Whatever she had done, it must have been bad, because these fellows were more than ready to get up close and personal. Hell, they were even looking forward to it.
The most vocal of the angry mob seemed to speak for the rest of them when he quite loudly voiced his outrage.
“Bitch, give me back my blade. That was my father’s!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Henni shot back. “What blade?”
“What the hell are you talking about? You’re waving it around in your hand, you little whore.”
“I am not a whore,” she shrieked, slashing at the man.
Apparently, he had touched a nerve, but the others quickly jumped in, all yelling at once about the things of value that had gone missing from their persons.
The thing about Henni was, she was an exceptional pickpocket. Possibly better than Hozark, even. But she lacked the restraint to know when not to take something. She was impulsive, and that led to bad choices. But a crowd this size? There was no way she had stolen all the items she was being accused of taking.
Somewhere in the city, more than one thief was resting easy now that their crimes had been foisted off on the offworld criminal. A brutish man lurched forward and swung a stout club at the violet-haired girl. It missed her blade hand, but it caught her other arm with a sickening crunch.
Henni shrieked in pain, but the man moved in for the kill.
“I’ll take that,” Hozark said, snatching the cudgel from the man’s hand just as he was about to deliver another blow.
“You with her?” the man growled, his and the crowd’s anger rising.
“No. But this is merely a girl, and surely––”
A hot spray of blood splashed across the nearest attackers. The club wielder had tried to land a surprise attack on the interloper with a hidden blade. A hidden blade Hozark had seen before the man had even reached for it. When it had finally been drawn and swung at the newcomer, simply taking it from him and turning it against its owner had been child’s play.
And now the man lay bleeding on the ground. Nothing fatal. Hozark did not want to kill any of these men and women. But an example had been made.
Unfortunately, the mob had the mentality of, well, a mob, and rather than back off in realization they were up against someone who would actually fight back, and efficiently at that, they only ramped up their aggression.
Henni shrieked as another man grabbed her roughly by the broken arm. He was dead before he hit the ground, the blade taken from the previous assailant lodged hilt-deep in his eye.
“Enough! Leave now, while you still can,” Hozark growled.
“He’s with the thief! Get him!” an outraged woman yelled in a shrill cry.
“Damn it,” Hozark sighed, then set to work, fending off attackers from all sides, and coming at him with a wide assortment of weapons.
Two large men charged with makeshift pikes. Really, they were just broom handles that had been snapped to a point, but the effect would be the same. Namely, a big hole in you if you misjudged their trajectory.
Hozark spun aside, breaking one in half with his boot, and pivoting sharply, grabbing and driving the other length into a woman attacking him from the other side. She dropped in a screaming heap, the rod protruding from her belly.
She would live. Probably. But Hozark still had a great deal of attackers to handle, and in a very tight space.
Elbows flew, and debilitating knees dropped into oncoming attackers’ thighs, cramping them painfully and taking them out of the equation. But still more came, believing that they had the advantage because of their numbers.
They couldn’t have been more wrong. But Hozark was doing all he could to spare the poor yokels, but with odds like these, it was taking much of his skill to avoid landing fatal blows.
