Masters of Deception

by J C Kang

  Elder Gitika’s eyes fell on Sameer. “This mission, more than any other, will teach Young Sameer to temper his passions. He will need my guidance.”

  Sameer’s chest squeezed. Of course his master would know his foible. If anyone could provide guidance, it would be the great Gitika. He would do anything to prove himself worthy of her... save for abandoning Sohini. Master Anish turned back to the Diviner. “Very well. We are staying at the—”

  “—Seafarer,” Larusso said. “Yes, of course I know. Do you have any of Sohini’s personal effects?”

  Sameer gritted his teeth as he looked between the two masters. Reluctantly, he opened the pouch at his side and withdrew a silver pendant with a cracked pearl. He proffered it to the Diviner. “This was her mother’s only valuable.”

  Master Anish eyed him, then from his own pouch withdrew a long strand of hair. “This was hers.”

  Sameer’s heart sunk. Why had Sohini bequeathed such a…personal… gift to her master? No, maybe he’d just found it on her pillow.

  Her pillow? He was thinking too much about something so innocuous. Then again, why had Master Anish collected her hair?

  Larusso took it. “Very good. I will send word tomorrow.”

  Master Anish pressed his palms together and bowed his head. “Thank—”

  “Now if you’ll excuse me.” Larusso motioned them away. “I do not wish to tempt destiny, and it has been foretold that three Aksumi Mystics would seek me out at this hour, to learn of the whereabouts of their lost friend.”

  Sameer knit his fingers into the mudra of forbearance. So rude, to dismiss them so summarily. Perhaps the Northerners were so busy making money, they had forgotten common courtesy. He followed Larusso’s eyes to the edge of the megalith circle, where two attractive Aksumi ladies and an older male waited. One of the women looked to be engaged in an argument with a yellow-skinned Cathayi girl with pointed ears.

  “I wasn’t following you,” the half-elf was saying as she withdrew into the crowds. “I just wanted to see the most famous Diviner in the Estomar.”

  Elder Gitika beckoned. “Come along now, Apprentice Sameer.”

  With a last look at the Mystics as they entered the megalith circle, Sameer hurried to catch up with his masters. The crowds parted to make way, pointing and whispering about the Paladins in their midst. Of course, even with the occasional pilgrimages Paladins made to the pyramid, darker-skinned Southerners were rare in this part of the world. Sameer hadn’t seen any since they’d landed; until now, where seven had managed to converge in one place at the same time.

  As they walked through the stone-cobbled streets, he imagined how Sohini must have felt among all the fair-skinned folk. She probably would have stopped at that dressmaker’s shop to marvel at the colorful long skirts—much too hot for back home in the Ayuri Confederation, but perfect for the cooler climes here. Maybe she’d try on the silver bracelets and anklets at the jeweler’s stall. She’d look beautiful, no matter what she wore.

  Elder Gitika stopped short. Sameer stumbled and nearly ran into her. He’d been so busy daydreaming, he hadn’t noticed. He looked around.

  They’d turned into a narrow street. Up ahead, nine fair-skinned men brandished rapiers. Unlike everyone else in Tokahia, they didn’t wear colorful clothes in the latest fashionable cut, but rather dark longcoats.

  One stood a head taller than the rest, and was easily twice as broad. A jagged scar marred his forehead, and instead of a rapier, he held a single-edged sword of foreign make. “You’ve come back, eh, darkie?”

  “Mafia,” Master Anish muttered.

  Raising her hands, Elder Gitika shook her head. “We don’t want any trouble. We’ll be on our way.” She started backing up, and would have nudged Sameer if she hadn’t sidestepped at the last second.

  Sameer took a deep breath to settle his nerves. The Vibrations pulsed strongly here, even more so than at the ruins of the Ayudra pyramid where he’d trained. Something interrupted the energy field behind him, and he looked back. Four more men, larger and broader than even the Mafia leader, now blocked the other end of the street. Wielding longswords, they all looked to be in their early thirties.

  “Masters,” Sameer said. “There—”

  “I know.” Elder Gitika’s hand rested on the pommel of her naga.

  Master Anish leaned in and whispered in her ear, “These are the criminals who attacked me and Sohini.”

  Every second of every day, from the beginning of the world to the end, the Divine marriage between the God of Justice and Goddess of Vengeance waxed and waned. A Paladin was supposed to embody Him, using only as much force as necessary; but now She held sway over Sameer. If these thugs were responsible for Sohini’s disappearance, they would pay. Spinning to face the men in the rear, he whipped out his own naga and charged.

  “Sameer, come back,” Master Gitika said, her tone more annoyed than frantic.

  His blade glowed bluer than usual and the world slowed down. In that moment of mental clarity, the enemy’s strategy became clear.

  The two huge men on the edges fanned out, while the two in the middle backed up. Even a Paladin student would recognize the enfilade, and not care. To his right, the man swung his longsword toward his head, while the one to the left swept at his feet. They might as well have been slogging through honey.

  Sameer dove between the arcs of the two weapons, landed in a roll, and came up to his feet. In the center, the two men’s expressions slowly contorted into shock. One started to cock his sword back, but Sameer drove the naga into his gut. He shoulder-butted him while yanking the blade free. Even in slow motion, it felt like he’d thrown himself against a stone wall.

  Dropping his sword, the man reached for the hole in his belly. Sameer spun out of a hack from the man beside him, while slashing at his midsection. The blade ripped through soft flesh. As both of the men at the center crumpled over, the ones to the flank turned to face him.

  Before the one on his left could finish his turn, Sameer removed his head with a swift strike. Circling the naga over his head, he wrapped up the last assailant’s thrusting arm between his elbows and his chest. The force would have dislocated a smaller person’s shoulder and elbow, but the brute’s sheer mass held firm. Still, the sword clattered from his hand, and Sameer dumped him to the ground with a sweep of his foot.

  He set the blade at his throat and time returned to normal.

  Back where he’d come from, Elder Gitika moved like a blur through two bandits. Five already lay writhing on the streets around her. Master Anish was disarming the last.

  Awe mixed with guilt in Sameer’s heart. How fluid and controlled they were, never dealing death when it could be avoided. He scanned the scene again.

  The apparent leader, with the scar, was nowhere to be seen. How could that be? He couldn’t have possibly fled to the next intersection, some fifty feet away, in such a short time.

  The last two enemies fell to the ground in quick succession. Clutching her side, Elder Gitika kicked their weapons out of reach. “Where is the leader?”

  Cold pricked at the back of Sameer’s neck. Had that sensation been there before?

  Master Anish looked around the groaning men, his brows furrowing. “I engaged him, but in one of my turns, he disappeared. I don’t know how that is possible.”

  “You didn’t mention Mafia,” Gitika said through gritted teeth.

  Master Anish held his hand in the mudra for apology. “I did not think it relevant.”

  The fact that these criminals had come back suggested it was relevant. Sameer nudged his captive with his foot. “Who are you? Did you kidnap Sohini?” If so, then Master Anish was right in not believing Signore Larusso’s fanciful talk of conjunctions and missing constellations.

  Still holding her side, Elder Gitika strode over and pointed at the dead enemies. “You were too impatient. You should have let us formulate a plan.”

  Master Anish nodded. “Yes, this is how I was separated from Sohini. She charged of
f into a group of them, and by the time I had dispatched my attackers, she’d disappeared.”

  Elder Gitika held out her hand. “More importantly, you have dealt mortal wounds to these men. Surrender your naga.”

  No! Sameer’s stomach writhed at the thought. The weapon, whose istrium he’d collected on the slopes of Mount Ayudra, was no less part of him than his hand. He held it to his chest with one hand, while bending his fingers into the mudra of apology with his other. “But Master—”

  Elder Gitika spoke through gritted teeth. “Recite the Mantra of Life.”

  With a sigh, Sameer bowed his head. “The Bahaduur’s power comes from the Vibrations of the World. The Vibrations comes from life. The Bahaduur must not take life unless necessary.” He looked up. “Master, how was it not necessary?”

  “Could you have incapacitated them without killing?”

  Could he have? Possibly. It had just been easier to do it this way, and, if he admitted it, the mere possibility that they might’ve taken Sohini had fueled his anger.

  Elder Gitika turned to Master Anish. “Can we incapacitate our enemy without killing?”

  He pointed at the other men, some of whom gained their feet and fled. “They still live. Some may never wield a sword again, and this one will never walk, but they will live.”

  The last man he indicated, as large as the four Sameer had faced, snarled. “Just kill me, then.”

  Elder Gitika shook her head. “Crawl to your sword and take your own life, if that is your will.” She locked her gaze on him and spoke in the Bahaduur voice of Command: “But first, you will answer my question.”

  “Yes, of course I will.” The injured man’s eyes glazed over.

  It was easy for a great master to influence someone. Sameer set his hands into the mudra for admiration.

  Elder Gitika wobbled on her feet, the Command apparently sapping more energy than it should have for a Paladin master. “Where is Sohini?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where did your leader go?”

  “He has a magic bead. It makes him invisible.”

  Sinking into a defensive stance, Sameer jerked his head around. Was invisibility even possible? If so, and the leader was still there, the din from the bustling main street made it too hard to hear his breathing. Cold pricked at his neck again.

  Elder Gitika’s brows furrowed.

  Master Anish closed his eyes and stretched his arms out by his side. “I don’t sense anyone else here.”

  The hairs on the back of Sameer’s neck stood on end. He looked from the first thug to the huge man he’d incapacitated. “What do you know? Where is Sohini?”

  The brute cackled. “We sold her to a whorehouse. After she spread her legs for us.”

  Blood rushed to Sameer’s face. Sohini had grown up in a brothel before her lineage and potential talent had been identified. He lifted his sword.

  “Stop.” Elder Gitika’s voice rolled over him like an ocean wave.

  Compelled, Sameer froze in place. He lowered his naga and bowed his head. “Forgive me, Master.”

  “He is baiting you,” she said. “A dozen of them couldn’t capture Sohini.”

  “But our Golden Scorpion could,” the man whispered.

  Traitors to the Paladin order! It wasn’t possible, was it? Not in this city. Sameer looked to his master.

  “I don’t have the energy for a Command.” Gitika shook her head and lifted her gaze to Anish.

  He nodded. “Tell me, Mafia goon.”

  The Vibrations shifted, but the man’s lips squeezed shut.

  Anish sighed. “We’ve used it too much. He can resist now.”

  “There are other ways.” Sameer tightened his grip on his hilt.

  Frowning, Gitika extended her hand again. “Your weapon.”

  She was right. He’d violated the Paladin code. Chosen Vengeance over Justice, taking a life when it could’ve been avoided. He’d even been about to torture a man, all for Sohini. Bowing his head, Sameer proffered the blade. His hands trembled. The dwarves on Ayudra Island had hammered and folded it into the curved shape of the Bahaduur swords of old. For years, between lessons, he’d sharpened it on the smithy’s steps.

  She received it in two hands, as respect even for an apprentice’s sword dictated. However, now that her left hand had moved from her flank, it revealed an expanding splotch of blood.

  Sameer gaped. It wasn’t possible for such an experienced Paladin to be touched by common thugs. “Master, you are injured!”

  She winced as she passed his naga to Master Anish. Her hand returned to the wound. “Yes, Young Sameer. Perhaps I am getting too old. When we fought, I lost my connection to the Vibrations for a few seconds.” She hunched over.

  “That might be a nasty cut,” a high-pitched voice called from behind.

  Sameer spun around, hand reaching for a sword that wasn’t there.

  A Cathayi half-elf slunk into the alley. She’d been the one arguing with the Aksumi at Signore Larusso’s megalith circle. She spoke Ayuri with a heavy accent. “I can clean it out and stitch it up for you.”

  There were Paladin Healers throughout the Ayuri Confederation, where confrontations with the traitorous Golden Scorpions occurred on occasion. There weren’t any here. Maybe this half-elf, if she actually had skill, would be useful. Sameer exchanged glances with Master Anish.

  The master’s eyebrows furrowed together. He pressed his palms together in respect, but suspicion hung in his voice. “Why should we trust your skill?” Or you, his tone suggested.

  She shrugged. “You can always go looking for a doctor, but who knows when you’ll find one, and I’ll do it for free.”

  “Why—” Master Anish started.

  “Please,” Elder Gitika said through clenched teeth. She unfastened the lower buttons of her kurta and opened it. Blood oozed from a finger-length cut.

  Sucking her lower lip, the half-elf lifted her skirts and withdrew a flat pouch. She turned to Sameer. “Go fetch some strong alcohol. There’s a tavern around the corner.”

  Was he an errand boy for strangers now? “Why?”

  “I’m thirsty.”

  Heat flared in Sameer’s head. This was no time to drink, not when Elder Gitika was injured.

  The half-elf snorted. “No, silly, for the wound. And for your master. Now go.”

  Paladins used herbal liniments, not booze. Sameer looked to Master Anish, who nodded.

  “Hurry.” The stranger fiddled with a packet of powder.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  If Jie counted the battlefield surgeries she’d performed in her life, she’d need to use both hands and feet, and maybe the wide-eyed apprentice’s two hands and one of his feet, as well. Once this Sameer had returned with a red vintage that smelled stronger than White Lightning wine, she went to work.

  Cleaning and stitching a wound came automatically, allowing her to think about all the intersecting threads. Especially when she ignored the master’s winces and grunts.

  Back at the megalith circle, she’d seen the Teleri agent with the forehead scar. He’d been the same one from the antique shop, watching them at the docks. Smaller than his brethren, she’d almost missed him. He had exceptional stealth skills, which marked him as a trainee of the clan traitor she’d been tracking. Him being here at the same time as Aksumi Mystics with a suspicious illusion bead couldn’t be coincidence, though he’d gone off to stalk the Paladins. The Aksumi would be easy enough to reacquire in this city of fair-skinned folk, but a man trained in stealth would not. She’d trailed him just like he stalked them, watching as he acquired his Mafia goons along the way. Then the Bovyans joined in.

  The fight between the Paladins and the criminals had been a thing of beauty, though her eyes hadn’t been able to track it all. To think, none of the three skinny Southerners looked capable of ganging up on one Bovyan, let alone defeating several. Seven men had surrounded the old woman, and maybe, just maybe she would’ve been injured more grievously had the other master
not intervened once he’d easily dispatched his two attackers. The injured men now fled, tails tucked between their legs.

  Jie replayed the fight in her mind. One moment, the scar-faced leader had been there; the next, he’d disappeared. It might’ve been magic, but there was always the possibility he’d used Black Lotus Clan skills. If anyone could capture this Sohini, it would be someone like that.

  She finished the last stitch and looked up. “Now, about your attackers. Let’s find their leader. The one with the scar, who disappeared into thin air.”

  “We don’t need your help.” Master Anish waved her away.

  She pointed at the fallen men. “These are Bovyans from the Teleri Empire. You can tell from their sheer size, and also their poor sense of fashion. In my experience, nothing good happens when they turn up.”

  “Well, they aren’t talking.” Sameer threw his hands up.

  “Not with their mouths.” She pointed at his captive’s feet. “However, his muddy boots say that he’s been down near the river.”

  The Bovyan gawked.

  Elder Gitika leaned over, her eyes widening.

  Jie knelt down and sniffed his breath. “He recently ate lamb with a tangy marinade. I don’t know much about the food in this region, but I would remember the scent if I smelled it again.”

  The Bovyan covered his mouth.

  “Why would you help us?” Master Anish’s eyes narrowed.

  “Would you believe me if I said I love a good mystery? No?” She flashed an irrepressible grin. “You aren’t the only ones who lost someone in Tokahia. Those Aksumi Mystics back at the Diviner’s megalith are looking for a missing member, too. Plus, I would like nothing more than to help a woman sold to a brothel. I’m off; the trail grows colder while we chat.”

  It wasn’t entirely a lie. No, a Bovyan trained in Black Lotus ways, cavorting with Mafia just when the crime families were plotting to overthrow the city… as well as missing Mystics and Paladins who could turn the tide of a turf war… It was just too suspicious.