Return to Went

Chapter 5

Chapter One

ON HAAS

In Haaseen, well-ordered capital city of Haas, homeworld of the Rukh, the shine of the mid-morning sun gained strength on a timeworn mid-city training ground. Under its watchful eye, eighteen doughty Rukh, a whippy Enna and another of uncertain heritage whirled body and sword through the movements of “Rope and Rada”.

The master, Embar of Rukh, watched them intently. “Two!” he shouted. “Twist the Rope!”

The smell of sweat thickened with the dust. Casco’s sinews bunched and flexed as he flowed by rote through the exercises. The low-stance form of Twist the Rope progressed to Three, Arch of Faris, then Four, Pelar’s Dive.

Bare feet danced in synchronized tread. Metal flashed in the haze.

“Five!” Embar called. “Race the Rada!”

Casco raised his sword and crabbed forward, relieved to feel no pain. The work the healer had done on his shoulder was holding up well.

Embar of Rukh continued to bark corrections with harsh economy. Casco was thankful none were aimed at him. Completion of the series required the discharge of a stun charm – the release of voice and tsemkar with split-second timing. He gathered the sequence to mind and held it ready, wary of the painful backlash if he got it wrong.

The next call came. “Six: Run for Mama!”

Casco ducked and rolled and then it was time. The percussive shout bent the ether around them. It was followed by groans from those who had misfired, but no one actually collapsed – a vast improvement on the group’s last effort.

“Seven!” Embar barked. “Rope the Rada!”

As the series lunged to its conclusion, those still capable held their stance. Sweat dripped from Casco’s entire body but as he waited to be released, he was proud that the low posture no longer felt awkward.

Embar surveyed their lines with a hard gaze. When he came to Casco he gave a nod. Casco fought to retain a neutral aspect as a quiet thrill raced through him. Embar gave compliments as rarely as Faythans gave away coin.

Beside him, Daric Enna was also breathing hard. He’d gained muscle from the regular drill but his light frame was still far more agile than any of his classmates’. He’d always been deadly, Casco mused. Now he looked it.

Ye’s vizzin starry too, sho la, Daric whispered. Humor danced in his thought.

Casco kept his mind on the charm they’d been set to learn. It was not worth risking Embar’s wrath if their exchange was sensed.

Without warning, a sword swept toward his head. In less than a heartbeat he’d blocked the downward thrust, landed a swinging round-house kick and activated the charm. Embar reeled and went down. The point of Casco’s sword rested against his throat.

Daric smirked as eighteen Rukhish warriors struggled to reconcile the sight of their master laid low by a half-breed.

A little dazed by what he’d accomplished, Casco moved his sword aside and bowed low. He stepped back, still bowing, as Embar got to his feet and dusted himself off. Blood ran from a deep s***h on the instructor’s cheek.

He motioned Casco to straighten up. “Are you sure there’s no Rukh in your heritage?”

“None I know of, sir,” Casco assured him.

“Must be Maatu, then.” The towering archangel dabbed at his wound and signaled for the healer.

“Step forward,” he said to Casco.

Casco’s heart raced. Blood dripped steadily from Embar’s face, staining his shirt red.

“Face the class.”

Nineteen pairs of eyes fastened on him.

The healer arrived but stopped outside the group at Embar’s brusque hand movement.

“Despite the differences in our weight and height,” Embar said to the class, “Casco is the victor here today, and do you know why?”

“He didn’t pause to think,” Daric answered boldly. “He let his body think for him.”

Embar nodded. “Remember this. The repetitions you moan about? Attention to detail! This is what training is for. Muscle memory gave Casco the brain-space he needed to coordinate voice and mind effectively. Remember this also,” he continued. “Never turn your back on your enemy. If Casco had lost concentration, he’d be the one needing the healer now. On these grounds, between these walls, I tell you when it’s over. Out there?” His steely gaze narrowed. “Things are different.” He bowed. “Class dismissed.”

As the group began to dissipate he indicated for Casco and Daric to remain.

The healer approached. Embar bent his head so his injury could be assessed. Casco winced as the elderly Naghari probed the split flesh on Embar’s cheek.

“Fractured,” he murmured. “You’ll need to sit down.”

They followed to a bench on the edge of the practice ground, stepping over fresh bloodstains on the way. One patch seemed larger than the others and Casco wondered what had happened there. Had someone died in training? It wouldn’t be the first time.

The massive fighter stared stoically at the middle distance while the healer repaired his face, but fresh sweat beaded his brow. Casco had trouble watching, but felt, as a budding warrior, he should.

Afterward, he and Daric waited while Embar gathered his wits. Suddenly the Rukh’s eyes cleared. Dilated pupils returned to archangelic slits.

“You two off tomorrow?”

“Mid-morning,” Casco replied.

Ambar looked at them speculatively. “My two enigmas fly free,” he said. “Let us hope it is on the wind of the Breath.” He turned to Daric. “What brought one of clan Enna to train with the Rukh?”

“Came with him.” Daric’s eyebrows flashed upward. “Didn’t want to be left out.”

Embar snorted. “And you, Casco, have shown your kind can be trained as well as any other. You are welcome to rejoin us whenever you return.” He beckoned him closer and Casco watched in amazement as he pinned a silver badge to his shoulder, a triangle with the outstretched wings of Rukh.

“Draga,” the warrior said. “Third stage on the path. Wear it with pride.”

Casco bowed. “I will,” he stammered. He tried to keep his elation politely contained but beneath his veil wonderment refused to abate. Daric’s look of admiration was also seasoned by startlement.

“And as to the task at hand?” Embar continued. His voice lowered. “My advice is to watch yourselves. I’ve had word about an Ashik contingent signed with your particular Host. I fear their function will be to subdue Lethian outrage.”

“They’re serious then,” Daric said quietly.

“You knew?” Casco said. “Why didn’t you say?

Daric shrugged. “I only heard this morning.”

“You hear far more than you should, Daric Enna,” Embar murmured.

Daric made no reply.

Embar’s brow twitched. He returned to Casco. “Logistics?”

Casco nodded.

“A busy time ahead in preparation for your next deployment. Any trouble, call on Colmar.” Embar flashed him an image. “Works in the palace.”

Casco nodded. “The Guild-Lord has taken steps. I have permission to return to Giahn, but must stay under Guild supervision at all times.”

“And Daric here is a Guild-member?”

Daric gave a slight smile. “As it happens …”

Embar snorted. “They say there’s good in everyone. But remember, both of you, the blade itself has no morals.”

Dismissed, they made for the Imperial Arms, an ale-house placed strategically near the academy entrance, and settled into their customary nook. “Besh.” Casco lifted his stoneware jar and swilled the cool brown contents. “Still can’t believe they make it here, and nearly as good.”

A chair-leg squeaked on the floor as it was pushed aside.

“Better!” a low voice rumbled.

Casco paused mid-draft and looked up at two familiar faces. “Gento! Cobar! Didn’t think we’d see you till tomorrow.”

The two sidled in beside himself and Daric.

“I see your paws are still empty?” Casco laughed, and signaled for two more drinks.

“What’s this bit of glitter here?” Gento dusted the badge on his shoulder. “See this, Cobar?”

“Embar’s going soft,” Cobar teased.

“He earned it.” Daric bristled. “Laid him out well and truly.”

Cobar frowned down on Daric as if surprised to hear him speak.

Gento raised his eyebrows.

Casco grinned. “This is my friend, Daric Enna. Daric, this big lump squashing me against the wall is Cobar, and,” he waved his ale at the other, “this one’s Gento.”

“I’m the brains,” Gento said.

“Daric will be joining us on Went,” Casco told them.

“Ahh. So that’s you, is it?” said Gento. “Looks like he can handle himself, eh Cobar? At least he has real hands. No blue polish.”

“Thought I’d brush up when I get home to Giahn,” Daric answered.

“An Enna slumming it on Haaseen?” Gento jibed. “You ’n’ our lad Casco must be pretty tight?”

“Dinna fash yourself,” Daric replied with a thick Rukhish accent. “I barely made it inda is wee trousers an still decidin tworth the fight.”

Casco’s drink sputtered over the table.

“Now look.” Gento laughed. “You made him choke.”

Daric rolled his eyes. “Again!”

Beside him, Cobar patted his back with a little more force than expected.

“You’re not helping!” Casco wheezed.

Daric shook his head. “See? That’s why I’m here,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t get this level of entertainment in the hallowed halls of Enna. Best order another round, good sirs!”

By the time Casco had recovered his breath, their second round was on the table. Daric muttered something to Cobar and the normally reticent Rukh let out a shocked bray that turned the heads of nearby tables.

You’re in fine form, Casco said.

Daric winked. These good Rukh will be sharing space with me for the next few years. At least if they start out with a good opinion …

That’ll wash off soon enough, Casco laughed, but he felt Daric’s sudden contraction. There was unintended weight to his comment. Traditionally, Rukh despised assassins. Daric had left that life behind, but eventually they would find out.

“Heard from Sari?” Gento asked.

“From Sari?” Cobar echoed, and Casco chuckled again.

“Our Sari always repeats what we say,” Gento explained to Daric. “Loveliest angel that ever there was.”

“That she does,” Cobar agreed. “And that she is. Heard from her just the other day.”

Casco nodded. “She’s been in touch with most of us, but she’s having trouble tracking down Bush and Topper.”

“Moonlighting as spinners again,” Gento said, “and good luck to them! Wish I could.”

“What, spin?”

Gento shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?”

Casco shook his head.

“They’re doing a passenger run to Hesh with Emmiel of Maatu,” Daric said.

The others looked at him.

“How’d you know that?”

“Sister’s a navigator. Said she’d run into these two Lethian tricksters. Casco’s told me a bit about them and I put two and two together.” Daric lifted his glass. “Simple.”

“How’d you two meet?” Gento waved his finger between them.

“Helped me out with a rescue operation,” Casco said.

“Couldn’t resist my astonishing good looks,” Daric quipped.

Cobar studied Casco intently. “Half-breed crisis? You?”

“Kareski,” Daric corrected.

“That’s what brought us here, really,” Casco said. “And when things calmed down, I decided I needed to continue my training.”

Daric shook his head. “They told him to leave town for his own safety’s sake. He’s an outlaw, you know. Very famous.”

“Outlaw?”

“Don’t believe him,” Casco assured them. “It’s not that bad.”

“No reward then?”

“No!”

He gave Daric a hard look.

Daric gave the hint of a wink. Payback!

“Anyway,” Casco continued. “Even though we’re not Rukh, for some reason the academy let us in. I think Daric here’s the first Enna to ever walk the sacred grounds.”

Someone from a nearby table grunted. “Sullied ’em, I’d say.”

“So, what happened?” asked Gento.

Casco envisaged Tess and Kana with little Kisha between them. “A couple I know from home. Kana was already working here. Wife and daughter got into trouble. We managed to reunite them.”

“Enna couldn’t save himself from swarm a’ zilla.” The heckler sniggered again. “Soft as saroo.”

Casco glanced around.

“Friend of yours?” said Gento.

“Aula,” he answered. Around her table, six warrior companions nodded darkly. “And no, not exactly.”

“What’s her problem?”

“Danar’s bunch. Danar of Rukh …”

“Rival group at the academy,” Daric filled in.

“Ahh,” Gento said. “Danar. A little less open-minded than some – or so I’ve heard.”

“Exactly,” Daric replied. “Pupils follow like fled of a color.”

Aula tipped her head back to swig the last of her drink. The jar clunked back onto the table.

Daric rolled his eyes.

Casco gave him a look and imaged the door.

“Well then, friends,” Daric said. “Maybe it’s time we moved on?”

Aula sneered. “Yeah, shove off, prince la-di-da, “she spat on the floor, “an take yon cheatin mongrel with. How much did shiny badge cost eh? Ol’ Embar short a coin?”

Like a cloud across the sun, Daric’s congenial demeanor changed. He stood up, his gaze strangely remote.

Cobar and Gento started to stand also, but Daric motioned them back.

“Little Enna come to play?” Their antagonist’s chair scraped the flagstones. “Gonna let your pet splitter play too? Or is he just for show?”

Cobar and Gento pushed to their feet.

Casco sighed. Just let it be! But his friends weren’t listening. He climbed out of the booth also. “No need for this,” he said, “I’m not offended …” But beneath his veils, his blood seethed.

“Huh!” Aula turned to her cohort and chuckled. “Splitter speaks!”

Embar’s words flashed through Casco’s mind: Never turn your back on your enemy. He tapped her shoulder. She spun but he was ready. There was a crunch as his blow found its mark. A crash and clatter as she fell.

Her tablemates launched at him, but Daric stepped in and the first of them went down.

Gento nodded to Cobar. “Good hands. Told you so.”

Cobar grunted as he grabbed the nearest brawler by the shoulders, drove his knee up hard, and finished him with a double-fisted wallop to the back of the head.

Aula groaned as someone stepped on her. Her posse glanced at the c*****e so far and hesitated.

“Come on!” Gento cried, “I want a turn!” But their opponents backed away.

A bar attendant came to drag the bodies aside while another summoned a healer.

Casco looked around, but the other patron’s conversations seemed barely interrupted.

Gento gestured to their booth. Their drinks remained as they’d been left.

He shrugged and returned to his seat, then watched his companions settle back into place.

The proprietor hurried forward. “Such rudeness!” he muttered. “Breath be sweet, that lot will never drink here again.” He plonked a basket of snack food onto the table and bowed to Casco. “We welcome our new arrivals. You aided my sister’s safe return. There will be no charge for your drinks tonight.”

He bowed again, and motioned to the bartender for a fresh round.

Gento and Cobar eyed Casco with new respect.

“Training’s paid off,” Gento said.

Cobar turned to Daric and gave a wry nod. “Tidy.”

“A shame you missed out,” Daric said to Gento. “Maybe they’ll wait for us outside?”

“Not that disappointed …” The big Rukh grinned and lifted his ale, “but you never know.”

Hours later, beneath the light of Haas’s two enormous moons, they staggered toward a sturdy wooden terrace on the outskirts of the city.

“This is it,” Casco said.

A small girl stood inside the door as it opened. She gave them a look then turned her head. “Mama, mama! Una Casco an de Badun’s home an dey’s be bringen dem oders wid-un.”

Casco put his finger to his lips and whispered loudly. “Shh, bless. Doan wake de folks!”

She waved him closer. “Be savin some bikkies on de table for ye.”

“Ta, Kisha,” Daric said quietly. “Be hopin dere’s some for us too?”

“Be stashin extra,” she said, and with a grin she led them toward the kitchen