The Vespus Blade

by Scott Baron

  “So, we’ve narrowed it down but are no closer to the truth.”

  “I simply do not know,” Hozark replied. “But the emmik is dead, and I fear this may be a trap. We must depart immediately.”

  Having said it aloud, the universe must have heard his concerns, for moments later the compound alarm sounded. The two assassins looked at one another and drew their weapons. Hozark’s vespus blade glowed an intimidating blue.

  “Well, that is unfortunate,” he said, steeling himself for a fight. “Seal the room tight when we exit. It seems we might have to be leaving in a far greater hurry than planned.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Guards, staff, and a few high-powered visitors all raced about the compound in varying degrees of aggressive readiness or startled panic. The Tslavar mercenaries geared up in their kit as quickly as they were able, ready and eager for a fight.

  The staff, however, knew better. They’d survived more than one altercation between the emmik, his friends, and someone with a bone to pick. It was far safer and far less likely to get them killed if they just tucked themselves into the farthest and quietest corners of the estate.

  As for the visitors, many were significant power users themselves, but aside from their own personal retinue of guards, they were relatively at risk. And for all they knew, this could just be a clever plot to draw them out and remove them from competition by the emmik himself.

  Treachery was not the order of every day, but many of them had done similar things in the past to claw their way up the ranks, and they wouldn’t put it past the man. It was a funny little bit of nature, that. Those who had back-stabbed others tended to expect the same treatment to be applied to them at some point. It led to a rather paranoid existence.

  The alarm seemed to have set the animals off as well. The Zomoki at the gates were bellowing with agitation, their collars glowing bright as they were urged to spray their magical flames. This made escape for those lacking smaller ships within the stronghold’s walls near impossible.

  Several were well enough acquainted to acquire rides on one another’s craft, though some had to leave behind a few of their staff in the rush due to limited space aboard. When whatever was happening was over, they would send their own ship to return to collect them.

  The unspoken part of that message were the words, “If you survive.”

  A great sloshing rumble rose from the deep stairwells to the dungeons, and a clattering of claws on stone and gnashing of powerful jaws could be heard echoing off the walls.

  “It would seem the emmik’s defensive spells included opening the bars blocking the effluence tunnels wide, allowing the Nazgari to enter the lower levels and dine on whoever might be so unfortunate as to be present,” Hozark said. “I believe our initial means of egress has been removed.”

  “So, we fight, then.”

  “Yes. We fight. But in the chaos, perhaps we will be able to avoid much of the conflict if we adopt a generic Tslavar appearance. This seems too sudden to be a specific reaction to the emmik’s demise. Something else caused this alarm.”

  The two assassins had not had any time to stalk and replace any of the actual mercenary guards on staff, but each had a few go-to faces they could don in times of crisis, when they needed a quick bit of cover. This was most certainly one such time.

  Hozark and Demelza then followed the noise of rushing footsteps and joined the panicked staff as they raced for a safe bolthole.

  “You there! Stop!” a small squad of Tslavar guards said when Hozark and Demelza hurried past with the staff. “We are regrouping at the inner courtyard. You’re going the wrong way.”

  “We are ensuring the emmik’s people get the hell out of our way before heading over there,” Hozark said with a disgusted snarl. “We need the place clear before we start our sweep.”

  The Tslavars nodded in sympathetic agreement.

  “Good point. The halls will have to be empty for the sweep. We’ll help. It shouldn’t take long with extra bodies,” the thick-necked man said, turning to his men and gesturing for them to step in and assist. “Hurry up and move, you lot!” he yelled to the panicked workers, ushering them along. “You know the drill!”

  Had Hozark attempted any other excuse, he and Demelza would almost certainly have been outed as intruders on the spot and forced to fight off all of the Tslavars while caught in the middle of the rushing laborers.

  It would have been a mess.

  But his excuse for not immediately joining the other guards was a logical one, and it bought them a bit of leeway with the Tslavars. And tying it to what was standard operating procedure for these types of general alarm situations––namely, a full-property sweep––had not only provided them cover, but also pulled the actual Tslavar guards onto their side.

  The procedure would be to ensure all staff and visitors were accounted for, then move through the property room by room, hallway by hallway, until they had covered the entirety of the grounds. But the latter would only be once the garrison commander told them what exactly it was they were looking for.

  Judging by the lack of scrutiny the Tslavars were exhibiting, it was clear no one had found the emmik’s body yet, so at this point it was more of a fire drill-type scenario than an all-out manhunt. But that would change soon enough. Once they discovered their employer had been slain, and by a Wampeh Ghalian, no less, none would escape scrutiny.

  Hozark was just glad that the deadly Balamar waters were incredibly rare. At least he and Demelza would not have to face that sort of a threat, as he had so recently. So they blended in with the others. But they were disguised as generic Tslavars, and once they started examining identities closely, they would be discovered.

  The whole process of ushering the staff took only a few minutes, after which the two assassins found themselves marching along with the real Tslavar guards to the inner courtyard. Over a hundred had gathered, many only partially geared up, having rushed to their positions from wherever they’d been enjoying their off time.

  The disguised assassins fell in line with the others and stood silently. At the moment, they were relatively safe. But if––no, when––they found the emmik’s cold body, that would change in an instant.

  “Listen up!” the heavily armed captain of the guard shouted out, silencing the murmuring men. “The general alarm has been sounded, and you all know what that means. Possible intruders in the estate. Now, I know there was a false alarm just the other day, but we’re still doing this by the book. Start at the assigned positions and move through the grounds. Don’t lose contact with your group. And don’t get sloppy. Emmik Drazzix will personally punish any who are found slacking off. Is that clear?”

  A chorus of ‘yes, sir’ rang out.

  “Then get to it.”

  The guards quickly split off into groups, spreading out to begin the search.

  “They do not know,” Demelza quietly said.

  “It appears not. But we do not have much time until they do.”

  “Over a hundred, by my count. And keeping in contact. We cannot simply wander off and make our escape without being seen.”

  “No, we cannot,” he agreed. “An admittedly surprisingly sound system for the likes of Tslavars to employ, I must admit. Whoever put it in place must have dealt with the order in the past.”

  “It seems that way. So long as they maintain visual contact among the group, it will be near impossible to remove and replace any of them.”

  “So, we join them for now. Even in our less-than-perfect disguises.”

  “Risky,” Demelza said.

  “Unfortunately, yes. But this may work to our advantage,” Hozark said, a plan rapidly forming in his mind. “If we embed ourselves with the group moving in that direction”––he nodded to the far walls––“we will be working our way toward the bridge, eventually. Their check will include ensuring it is secured.”

  “So, we will cross it surrounded by a large group of actual guards performing their search. It will be e
nough to get us past the Zomoki. Clever,” Demelza said.

  “It should work, if all goes well.”

  “And if they discover the emmik before that?”

  Hozark paused in thought. “Then things will get much more interesting.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  The disguised Wampeh were making good time moving through the inner sections of Emmik Drazzix’s grounds. The group of Tslavar guards they had joined were a fairly professional bunch, which was saying a lot for the normally thick-skulled and quick-to-fight mercenaries.

  But these had been well trained, and as a result, their survey of the chambers, storage facilities, and winding corridors located in their assigned area had been moving smoothly. That there were two new faces among them only raised eyebrows for a moment when they began the sweep.

  “We were tasked with cleaning out the dungeons,” Hozark had told them. “Mizzah an’ me, we’d just finished dumping the last of the bodies into the runoff and were making our way upstairs when the alarm sounded. They grabbed us and said to go with you lot, so ‘ere we are.”

  “Yeah, it were a real mess down there,” Demelza added. “But we got it sorted. Bloody tough work, that is. Hey, can I get a swig o’ that?”

  The man they’d been speaking with pulled his flask from his hip and passed it over. Demelza took a draught, then handed it to Hozark, who did the same, then passed it back with a happy grin.

  “Thanks, Brother. It’s a thirsty bit o’ work, that’s for sure.”

  “You’ve got that right,” the Tslavar replied. “I was helping watch the kitchen staff bring in an order of supplies when this all went down. Was going to get me a nice snack out of it, too. But what can we do, right?”

  Hozark and Demelza laughed in agreement with the man.

  “Is that new one still there?” Hozark asked. “You know, the young one who’s plump in all the right places? What was her name again?”

  The Tslavar’s grin turned into a full-fledged smile. “Oh, you mean Elzah.”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Is she still working the kitchens, then?”

  “Oh, she is. But I’ve got dibs on that one if anyone does.”

  Hozark laughed. “Okay, okay. But there’s no harm in a man looking, now, is there?”

  “Ha. None at all. And there’s a lot to look at.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. What did you say your name was? I’m Faloon.”

  “Torvak,” the man replied, shaking his hand with a strong grip. “Good to know ya, Faloon.”

  It was a wild guess he had made. They’d only been in the emmik’s grounds a few hours and had not had a moment to do any recon of the staff, but it was a common scenario that played out across all of the many estates and compounds they’d infiltrated over the years.

  There was always some sort of romance going on between the staff and guards, and more often than not, it involved the kitchen and housekeeping workers. It was just one of those things that had proven out regardless of world or system. And that common bond of lustful male lechery had just further endeared Hozark to their new friend.

  “Well, come on, then,” the Tslavar said. “We’ve got a lot of boring work to do before we can get back to our real jobs.”

  “And hopefully Elzah, right?” Hozark added with a conspiratorial elbow and wink.

  They both laughed and shared a knowing look.

  “Come on, you two,” Demelza said. “We’ve already cleared most of this part of the building. We’d better hurry up and finish up in here so we can check the bridge and then get back to it.”

  The two men grunted their agreement and continued on their way.

  And that was all it took for Hozark and Demelza to pass that initial bit of scrutiny. The flimsiest of cover stories, and a pathetically transparent bit of superficial bonding. But as the grounds were simply being swept for intruders, there was no real sense of urgency or pending threat to the affair, so it worked.

  The guards were at ease, doing this by rote. Another false alarm, no doubt. If something serious had been going down, surely they’d all know about it by now.

  So they walked, and they searched, and then they searched some more, always edging closer to the front gates. And from there, it would be a survey of the lone bridge as their last step before declaring this portion of the estate secure.

  Hozark and Demelza would stay close to the others, the stench of the large group of them masking the two Wampeh as they made their escape. And by the time the others noticed the two new additions to their numbers had disappeared, the intruders would be long gone.

  Or so they had hoped. Oh, if only it could be so easy.

  A shrill blast filled the air, and everyone’s skrees alerted at once. The guards pulled the devices from their hips and listened to the group broadcast, and Hozark mimicked the action, bringing his skree close to his face as well.

  He and Demelza were not tied into the staff’s communications, but they could hear the announcement easily all the same. The emmik had been slain, and from the look of it, a Wampeh Ghalian was to blame.

  Suddenly, this had become much more serious.

  The guards all looked around, on edge and ready for a fight from a potentially invisible enemy. Eyes turned to Hozark and Demelza.

  “Who are you two, again?” the nearest guard asked, a blade ready in his hand.

  “She’s Mizzah. An’ I’m Faloon. Torvak knows us,” he said, nodding to the man with whom they’d just shared a drink.

  “Well, we did only just meet,” he replied, unsure.

  “Oh, are you fucking serious? You think me an’ her are Wampeh? Think about it, there are two of us, an’ everyone knows they only work alone.”

  The others hesitated, unsure what to do next. It was true, everyone knew Wampeh Ghalians’ reputations for always striking alone. And these two had been with them from the start of the search as well.

  Slowly, the on-edge Tslavars lowered their guard. Not entirely, but just enough to remove the threat of imminent violence against what were very likely their own people.

  “You’ve got a good point,” the leader said. “But you’re new to our group, so we’ll need to confirm your identities all the same. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Of course. I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” Demelza replied. “But be quick about it. There’s an assassin loose in the grounds, and we’ve got to stop their escape.”

  “Shit, she’s right,” Torvak said. “If the Wampeh makes it past the Zomoki, then it’s a clear shot across the bridge.”

  Demelza’s suggestive little seed about the bridge had just sprouted. All it needed now was a little water to make it grow. Water that would be provided not by she or her accomplice, however.

  “How can anyone get past the Zomoki?” one of the guards asked. “Those things are terrifying.”

  “Who knows? You know how tricky they are,” another replied. “Come on, let’s––”

  He had only taken one more step when a brutal spell lashed out and removed his head from his body. Apparently, it had been set within the walls, a booby trap for those heading toward the gates.

  “Itzall!” the leader shouted. “Dammit, come on! They had to go this way!”

  “This leads right to the bridge!”

  “Alert the others!” he said, then took off down the hall, casting his strongest defensive spells as he moved.

  The others followed in his tracks, unsure whether he was brave or foolish or both. But with all of their defenses overlapping as they moved, only the strongest of trap spells would be able to harm them, and the one that had taken down their comrade was a rather simple one with not much power behind it. He’d just been caught with his figurative pants down.

  “Do you feel that?” Demelza asked as they ran with the others, more trap spells bouncing off their shields.

  “Yes,” Hozark replied. “This is Ghalian magic, but it is incredibly weak.”

  “Barely enough to harm anyone but those who are caught totally
unaware,” Demelza agreed. “But it was certainly enough to get their attention, it seems.”

  Another series of spells were triggered when they reached the mighty doors leading out to the front entryway. There, the Zomoki would be scorching the ground between the gates and the bridge as their control collars shocked them into action.

  “Stop with the damn Zomoki!” the leader shouted into his skree. “We’re in pursuit of the assassin, they’ve set booby traps and are making for the bridge. Tone down the spells making them spit fire and have them focus on sniffing out Wampeh. And send the others to meet us out front.”

  He then charged ahead, his team of Tslavar guards close behind.

  “This changes things,” Hozark said as they stepped out onto the spacious entryway.

  The Zomoki were dead ahead, one on either side, but they were facing the bridge in front of them, sniffing the air, their collars glowing bright. Whoever had shifted the spells, the deadly animals were now intent on smelling anything non-Tslavar. Even in the middle of a pack of them, the two Wampeh would be detected.

  Hozark glanced at Demelza as they ran with the others, growing ever closer to the looming mass of the great beasts. They slowed their pace a little, allowing others to overtake them until they were at the back of the group. But more would be following shortly.

  Hozark abruptly turned, and the two ran to the left, hugging the wall of the stronghold as he and Demelza raced toward the narrow path between it and the cliffs leading to the moat below.

  The nearest Zomoki spun its head, but it did not spew flames. Its collar spell had been changed to prevent it from roasting their own men, and a shock ran through its neck the moment it even tried. The others took note, however.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Torvak called after them, a confused look on his face. “We’re going this way!”

  A moment later, the group’s leader was racing toward him, the others close behind in his pursuit.