FicWad

ONE
MAZE OF WALLS

ONE





I tightened my grip on the kindjal and kept the pistol aimed at the door.

Behind me Uri and Joshan pulled their short swords and made quiet prayer to Horus.

I glanced upward and promised an offering of wine and grain to Omnah if our hunt was successful and for forgiveness for working with such men as Uri and Joshan. I did not mind working with backward heathens but Omnah might have cause to quarrel on that point. Their primitive beliefs did not include worship of the All-Seeing but demand of them loyalty and bravery to their Blood Bound.

Qualities I need of them now.

Zakqi stood by the door, back flat against the side of the house, blunderbuss ready. In the dim light from the distant street lamps I saw him nod his head slightly.

I took a calming breath. The trader was inside with at least one encargado who carried a pistol and a long blade. We knew the trader had more protection but we had not been given the time to properly scout our target, we prepared as best as we could. Under my black cloak of clay armor and my three men wore heavy jerkins and britches of leather.

Zakqi tried the door knob.

Locked.

He reached back into his tunic. I saw a flash of emerald and he waved the little shimmer in front of the door scanner.

The door lock clicked open, a sound normally so quiet that it would not be noticed but tonight when stealth was best, that click sounded like a gunshot.

I held my breath waiting to hear some kind of alarm followed by a call to arms.

Nothing.

Zakqi visibly relaxed. He tried the door again and this time it swung open noiselessly.

Several oil lamps burned inside, bright and blinding for someone now accustomed to the night's darkness.

Still no alarm or any sign that we had been detected.

Zakqi dropped to one knee turning into the door, his blunderbuss moving left and right.

I stepped past him into the room.

This manse was one of the older in the Kuo. At one time this district had served as the governing center of the Shimmering Cloud Compact and more than likely this particular house had been owned by the ruling elite.

Time had not been kind to either the district or this manse.

The room was the first level of the house. I imagine at one time this floor had been divided into rooms but now the walls had been removed to create a large common area. To the left, a large stone fireplace served as both a stove and a heat source. The stairs leading down to the main floor sat in the center toward the back wall.

On my right were several rough wood chairs and small battered tables, more than likely left here when someone had tried to remold this place into an inn and failed.

In one of those chairs sat the trader's encargado.

He was dressed in liang-tang armor, polished to a deep red luster. At his hip was a shidder blade, the wicked curved weapon sheathed in black leather. The encargado's head lay on the table surrounded by empty sa'ke bowls.

Great, the trader used alcoholics for protection.

Uri slipped past me, drawing a short blade with his free hand. The little bodkin slid easily in the drunk's neck.

The killer started to reach for the corpse's waist.

I shook my head, trying to keep my voice quiet.

'No looting.'

Uri bared his teeth, which had been filed to nasty little points.

'Trophy,' he hissed.

I shook my head again, 'Later.'

He shrugged and returned the bodkin to his belt.

Joshan and Zakqi had already moved to the stairs with Zakqi covering the way down. As he had come through the door first, I descended the steps in front of him.

At the bottom of the stairs was a hallway that stretched the length of the house. On one side were two doors and on the other a single heavy metal door. That would be the master's quarters and where our trader would be resting.

Carefully, I approached the target's door.

Behind me, I heard a loud creak and I turned quickly to see a man standing there wearing nothing but a loin cloth and a heavy chain necklace that marked him as an encargado.

We stared at each other in surprise.

I moved first, slamming my kindjal into his throat. Joshan was suddenly there making four quick stabs into the man's chest and gut.

The encargado gurgled his own blood before falling.

It was then that I saw behind him. The simple, small room was serving as a make-shift barracks. Five men were suddenly up from their bedrolls taking weapons in hand and shouting.

Damn.

The element of surprise was completely lost.

Zakqi stepped over the corpse and fired his blunderbuss.

Two of the men in the room had gotten into a rush and had hurried to get to the door before they realized Joshan and I were not alone. They did not have time to stop when Zakqi appeared and squeezed the trigger.

A clap of thunder and a swarm of lead balls ripped into the pair, killing one outright and putting the other on the ground in a bloody torn heap.

Their three comrades now charged us, the blunderbuss expended.

Behind me, I head a heavy metal door open.

The kindjal was in my left hand and with a quick step and turn I gutted the man coming through the door.

Poor fool, I thought sourly. He wasn't an encargado, more than likely he was the trader's favorite sex toy who had been sent out to discover the cause of all the commotion.

As he slumped down I had a view of the dimly lit bedroom dominated by a large bed. The trader was propped up on a pillow, eyes wide.

I jerked the kindjal fee and leveled the pistol. The trader's head was in my sights as I pulled the trigger. My aim suddenly went wide as I was slammed into from behind.

I dropped the now empty flintlock and pulled my second kindjal managing to stay on my feet.

One of the encargado had managed to get past my men, tripping on something and stumbling into me before gracelessly falling to the floor.

He was trying to get back up when I put a blade in his back. He jerked hard when I sliced into his kidney but I was able to get a hold of him and slit his throat before he could cause anymore mischief.

I retrieved my knife from his back and heard the grunting and cries of pain behind me.

Uri was dead, at least two wounds in his chest and I saw Zakqi was bleeding badly from his arm, forced to use his blunderbuss as a club to ward off his attacker. Joshan seemed to be able to handle the other encargado, both men fencing back and forth.

Zakqi swung his improvised weapon but the encargado side stepped him and readied for a quick jab to Zakqi's chest with his sword.

I stepped in behind the encargado and drove both kindjals into his ribcage. The man inhaled sharply and dropped his sword. Zakqi had come back around and crushed the man's head with a hard blow.

Joshan had already skewered his opponent.

I turned back to the bedroom and found it empty.

Never simple, I thought.

'Bay,' I heard Joshan and turned, finding him crouched down by Zakqi who sat on the floor dressing his wound.

I scooped up the blunderbuss and took the powder and shot from Zakqi's belt.

'I can still fight,' Zakqi said in his broken guttural version of the common tongue.

'No," I said. 'Stay here till we return.'

The look in his eyes was that of a man reprieved from death yet still ashamed of not being able to face it. I knew he would come if I ordered it but he would serve as nothing more than a shield for Joshan and me. Such a death would not be befitting a warrior.

I retrieved my pistol and paused long enough to load it and the blunderbuss. Joshan had already searched the trader's room and found the trapdoor in the stone floor.

We dropped down to a crude floor of broken rock and packed dirt. The corridor was a poorly hewn tunnel that was lit by a quickly receding light.

The trader.

Joshan took the lead, following after our target.

As we bore down on him, I heard the sound of running water and noticed a strong chocking odor. This tunnel must let out onto the Kuo's sewer.

The light in front of us stopped and I slowed down concerned the trader was preparing to fight. Joshan wanted blood and continued his run.

The corridor emptied into a large chamber with a river of sewage and waste water running down the center. A small boat, the trader's escape, sat ready to carry him to safety.

Blades clashed as Joshan and the trader met. Our man wore a night shirt and nothing else. In his attempt to flee he had only spent enough time to grab a weapon and a lantern.

The trader staggered back as Joshan pressed his attack. I hefted the blunderbuss ready to fire if Joshan lost the advantage of the fight.

Then, the trader whistled.

In retrospect, it was almost funny. The trader had thought his escape out but had poorly executed it. It almost cost him his life and it did cost Joshan his.

When the trader whistled, he activated the Cykro.

The creature had been hanging from the ceiling, out of sight, a lurking lethal shadow. When it dropped down in a whirling twisting mass pf spinning bladed tentacles it found Joshan and the trader underneath it.

Joshan was cut into several chunks and the trader lost both legs and his manhood to an errant failing tentacle. His screams reverberated against the rock walls of the chamber.

The main body of the Cykro was little more than a metal cylinder; the head atop it may have once belonged to a lupus but was now shriveled, desiccated. The fur had pulled away in clumps from the ruined skin.

The eyes glowed a pale green.

It hunched down on its tentacles, the trader weakly crying and writhing beside it.

I wondered if it understood what it had done or if it even cared.

Those sick glowing eyes locked on me.

It leapt.

I dropped and rolled left. The Cykro landed where I had been, its killing limbs whipping back and forth.

I fired the blunderbuss. The lead balls hit a tentacle, a flash of sparks followed by a high pitch squeal. The Cykro moved back quickly giving me a chance to get on my feet.

The ruined head kept its gaze toward me and I saw now that I had done more than destroy a tentacle. I had taken one of its eyes.

That must have made it mad.

It was hurt. I could see its still functioning tentacles tremble and it no longer moved with a fluid motion. The Cykro now seemed hesitant, as if it was unsure of what it should do.

Behind the eyes must be the Magus Core and I imagine sight is its primary tracking method.

I kept the blunderbuss in one hand and pulled my pistol with the other. The Cykro turned as I ran to the trader who lay in a steady growing pool of blood. I flicked the hood of my cloak up and with a thought the sight band in it came down over my eyes.

Kicking the trader's lamp into the water, the chamber went dark but the sight band activated and everything in the blackness became a red glowing object. Hopefully I had damaged enough of the Magus Core to make it hard for the Cykro to track me.

The Cykro had no problem seeing me.

It leapt again, not quite as quick as before.

I dove from the ground and away from the water but the Cykro overshot my former position and landed in the small boat the trader had intended to escape in. A shrill cry came from the creature as the boat bobbed wildly and splashed water into its face and ruined eye.

A tentacle whipped out and I blocked with the blunderbuss. The Woodstock of the weapon was cleaved in half.

I fired the pistol.

Click.

Misfire.

The Cykro lashed out again and severed the front end of the pistol from the rest of the gun.

Still on the ground I pushed hard toward the Cykro and its poor choice for a landing spot.

The boat was never meant to hold the weight of such an unholy thing and as its tentacles waved about the tiny craft swayed wildly back and forth in the filthy water.

I kicked upward catching the upper lip of the boat. The little wood ship lifted high and the Cykro frantically sought support but found only empty space.

With a pitiful shriek, it toppled into the water with a loud splash and was pulled downstream. The sight band allowed me to watch as the Cykro tried to keep its head above water but soon it went under.

The Gahiji would have to be informed of this.

Of course, I would notify them after I collected on the trader.

Surprisingly, he was still alive.