The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series) (13 page)

BOOK: The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series)
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“Ok
ay so what then?”

“So she might not think so badly of me. Arthur,
Sheyliene is important to us.  What I said of seventeen of my finest is true.  She is our sharp-shooter.  When we meet Maldgorath, we need her focused on Maldgorath's little dragon.  If she hesitates out of feelings of revenge against me, then we will fail.  It can whisk him away, or spew that vile silver fire.  Either way, we lose.”

With it just being us, I hadn’t even considered
Shey as faltering.  But with Znuul, it could be a possibility.

“Arthur, my plan is simple
,” Znuul says breaking my introspection.  “I will hold him in place and you take his head with your hungry glowing sword.  Of course, I can’t hold him if the dragon whisks him away.  Or, it bakes me in Silver fire.”


Oh,” is all I can think to say.  Shey can shoot the wings off a fly.  I even used her for the same purpose in my solo attack.  Znuul is right, she is the sharp shooter and her target is a silver dragon.

Znuul’s hand reaches to the walls and the blue runes fire again, only this time it feels that pressure releases from the room.
“Brother, that’s all I have.”

That’s enough.

 

Chapter 33

Shey woke Kitten after a few hours and thankfully there was no gunfire, shouts or bodies being flung through walls or doors.  The girls, sans Vets all went shopping and Pffif went along too, more out of just needing a change in scenery than anything else.

I passed on the shopping.
After all, my wardrobe is pretty simple – some khakis and button down shirts. Both Shey and Sil have my measurements memorized, so it’s easy.  Besides, I knew Hjuul would want to tromp around the woods surrounding the bunker and I haven’t taken a great deal of time with my furry friend.

He t
akes off on a tear when the sliding door to the back porch is opened for him.  Just as happy as can be – so many trees to mark.  This gets notice of Znuul who joins me outside, now back in his human appearance.  “I should go mark my territory and teach that hound a lesson.”

We both g
et a laugh out of that.

Eventually Znuul
goes back to finding our quarry and Hjuul takes off deep into the woods.  The porch area is nicely set up with furniture and a massive grill. I’m thinking to just sit for a spell, enjoy the quiet and contemplate our present situation.  I hear the sliding door open and lean my head back to see who’s joining me - it’s Vets.

“May I join you my wielder?”

She takes a seat and pulls it around so she can face me.


I must know something.”  There is a moment of hesitation and collection of thought, which is not like my burly warrior.

Great, she’s been listening to Sil’s crap about how she should be
sharing my bed.  I take a deep breath and prepare myself.

“Have I done something to displease you?  You no longer join in the training.  We spend little time other than
feeding anymore.”

And that is true
. My time with Vets was spent mostly during our training sessions.  These used to be mostly one on one.  Now Sil has joined in.  And Sil has picked up this stuff scary fast.  Arix explained to me that it’s because Cubati are natural mimics.  All the same, she learned in weeks what took me almost a year.

“I fear I have displeased you by training the succubus. 
Do you shun me because of your dislike for her?  I do not wish to displease you. I would die for you, my wielder.”

Her face is earnest, her concerns sincere and I feel like a major schmuck. So I suck it up
.

“Vets, you have
not displeased me in any way - you’re just great.  As for Sil, she and I are actually getting along pretty well – better than ever.  I think she’s starting to think of me as less of something to be conquered and I’m thinking of her as less of a pain in my ass and more of a person.  Truth is, I haven’t been training because I think maybe I’m a little intimidated.  It took me a year to get where Sil is after just weeks.”

Th
is acknowledgement gets a smile out of my warrior, which is no small thing. “Yes, the Cubati are of the higher Dzemond. They are superior to us.  It took me time to master the first four sword forms also.”

The superior comment rankles me.  I realize that her race, the Vetisghar
have this concept beaten into them from a young age, but still – it’s bullshit.  All the same, I bite my tongue for her sake.

“Well Vets, I probably need to keep up with my training. I’ll make sure
to join you two soon.”

“The weather is good and we can move these seats.
Can you teach me? There was the dance from the art you called Shotokan that you taught me.  Show me the next one.”

Great. It’s been years since I’ve
formally been to a Dojo. Probably even longer since I’ve graced a Shotokan one.  Luckily, these are basic forms. So I make my apologies in advance for not being ready, get up and begin moving the furniture.  This is after all, her way of bonding and taking time.

Lucky for me, all I ever showed her w
as the beginning form.  We reviewed the first one I showed her, went through some minor corrections of her stance and moved on the second.

I can tell I have a happy
Vets.  There’s no purring or smiling – but I can tell just in the way she is engaged in the moment.  That makes me happy too.  The system of fighting Vets is trained in revolves around weapons, armor and aggression. In all honesty, it’s probably quite effective on a battlefield, especially when fully armored.  What I was showing her was a bit different, though still a very direct martial form – quite linear.  I wonder how she’d feel about some of the more circular systems that rely more on redirection of energy or joint locking such as Aikido or Hapkido. 

I figure I could introduce her to those later.  It’d probably blow her mind.

We’ve worked up a good honest sweat when the porch door opens and my brother in revenge joins us. He claps his hands, then points them at me.

“Guess who we found?”

I nod my acknowledgement at him.

“Follow, learn more
.” 

With t
hat he turns and heads back in. Vets bows her head in acquiescence of my needing to leave and I follow my large brother in revenge to his office.

I sit down in one of the plus
h chairs in front of his desk. “Show me where we’re going.”

He obliges by telling me that our quarry appears to be currently in Yemen in a town called Tarim.  I find out
Znuul has another bunker being constructed in Dubai, but he hopes to rent a building nearby to Tarim for immediate interrogation.

Znuul looks at me seriously
."We're going to have to change your appearance.  Mine too.  The Techno-Mage guild is scanning for a seven-foot plus large man."

Crap. 
He’s right. Edgar and his group would be tied into everything - using facial recognition and widgets I can’t fathom.

Znuul assures me he’ll get us past the prying eyes of security cameras but it’s going to take some work.  The wink
he adds makes me feel so much better.

Then
we hear the doors fling open. The girls must have returned. After a short while kitten bounds into the room and makes her way to Znuul with eager eyes.  “We shopped and everyone has new stuff. But I slept through morning pleasures… I’m sorry master.”  She shuffles behind his desk with her hands behind her back.

Znuul
gives her a light hug.  “I think our evening turned into morning.  Nothing was missed. Now, Arthur and I are talking serious business.”  With that he turns her around and gives her a little push away and at pat on the butt.

She turns around to him and says
, “Okay,” with a pouty face and leaves us.

There is a moment of silence which is broken by Znuul’s eyes rolling and a proclamation “I am
so self absorbed. Please excuse me I have to tend to Kitten.”

I nod “OK” and he reassures me he’ll only be a moment.

So, we’re off to the middle east.  This jet setting lifestyle is such a stark difference from how things were in the 1940’s.  I look at the map on the TV screen and try to contemplate where our destination will be.  After a few moments Znuul returns, smile on his face and a “sorry about that” coming forth from his lips.

“You know
, these human women are crazy. They just don’t talk straight-forwardly. She wasn’t asking of morning pleasures for me… she wanted hers.  I must be too focused on our task to have missed that. Anyway… she’s better now.” With that he makes his way back around to his chair behind the desk.

I guess my general
look of confusion gives away the question on my mind – what the heck?  After all, he was only gone about a minute.

Znuul see
s my confusion and flashes the car dealer smile.

“Hey, it’s not
all about my happiness – it’s about her feelings and needs too.  Just had to let her know I understood and to… apologize for being otherwise detained.”

I could tell the word was sticking in his throat.  He who does not apologize… bah.
  He just did, twice.

We get back on track after the distraction and Z ticks off his to-do list: weapons, identities, credentials and transportation.  There’s little for me to do except brief my team and get ready to move. 

Znuul says he hopes we can head out in 24 hours for Seiyun Airport.  We’ll have a vehicle ready for us.

I’m ready now.

 

Chapter 34

Our travel disguises are me as a balding African caretaker, Znuul as an African wheelchair bound cripple and Kitten as herself because she wasn’t on the radar. I hated having my appearance altered magically; it just does not feel right. Znuul had us custom chartered to our location and we slipped through security with no issues whatsoever.

The van he ha
s for us is even equipped with a wheel chair lift.  We get him in it and thanks to GPS, head to the property he rented in the city near where our quarry was. I’d be freaking lost otherwise.

Upon arriving at
a small warehouse we both doff our magical guises and I begin summoning my crew one by one – except for Arix.  Figure I’d spare him another skull splat.

Znuul ha
s crates of weapons and body armor pre-delivered along with some lumber. Good stuff too.  All weapons silenced – custom like.  Znuul’s weapons are a pair of .50 caliber desert eagles. There are 9mm’s for the rest of us along with ample clips.  The motif is basic black, including matching ski-masks.  All except for Kitten, who gets the Burka.

We all strip down, armor up and
get our holsters on.  There is no innuendo.  There are no comments about how cute someone is in their underwear.  I am proud of my team. We are focused.  I feel ready.

Pffif is somewhat to the outside of all this activity as there isn’t anything his size and his role would be mostly reconnaissance.  “So, what be the plan
,” he asks.

“Attack suddenly, kill everyone
except our target and drag his limp body out,” is Znuul’s response.

Pffif looks at me, obviously questioning this direction.

That’s not lost on my brother in revenge, “What, speak up?”

“Just be a seemin’ like a maybe a bit unnecessary if’n we can get
him alone.  We gots us a Succubus, sure’n she could be getting’ him to a proper place for the grabbin? Just sayin’ that a house o’ dead folk gets more attention thana one missin guy.”

Znuul exhales deeply and closes his eyes.  For a moment I’m not sure if we are going to see
fabled demon rage or what.  “My Grey used to tell me I thought too often like a blunt instrument. Now you do too.”   There is a low grumble that comes from deep inside him, then he looks over at me.

“Find a
burka for Silithes.  She’s going to bring that bastard to us.”

With that
Znuul looks over and nods at Pffif, who just beams a smile back at him.

Sil on the other hand, isn’t as happy – “How am I supposed to seduce anyone from underneath a freaking
burka?”

I laugh.  Znuul tells her she’ll figure it out.  Kitten offers to go find a
burka.  Instead we send Sil out to find her own.  After all, if Sil gets killed I can re-summon her.  If Kitten bites it or worse, we just mourn.

Easy decision
; besides I’m pretty sure Sil can speak better Farsi.  Or so I hope.

While we’re waiting for Sil to come back with her new wardrobe, we
continue to prepare for the mission. Communications are checked, weapons double checked and body armor adjusted.  Basically we’re fidgeting.  Except for Znuul and Pffif, who work to remove the wheelchair lift from the van, Pffif using the tools and Znuul doing the heavy lifting.

Sil
finally returns, not very excited at her new wardrobe but presenting it all the same. She strips down and Znuul tapes a mini microphone to her belly.  After that the burka comes on and she takes the form of a pleasing middle eastern woman.

“We can hear you, if you get in trouble or need
an assist – I don’t see them frisking you extensively on the belly. If they do, we’ll be there,” is Znuul’s input.

Znuul continues to share what he knows of where our target is and what can be expected as resistance.

Sil’s response is, “There’s no resisting Silithes darling, he’ll follow me out like a puppy dog. Even despite this tent… burka… thing. Where do you want me to bring him?”

Znuul draws out a map, showing where the house is that Jalal is holed up
in, the streets around it and where Sil needs to take him - a nice dark alley way behind the house.  Kitten will have the van parked at the corner ready to roll. Znuul will go to the alley and administer a strong animal tranquilizer when the time is right.

Us, we’ll just wait patiently for the package to arrive, unless things go wrong.

Then we go back to plan “A” – kill ‘em all… except Jalal.

It’s time to roll.  We pile in the van and
prepare to head to Tarim.

Afte
r about a half hour drive we find our way to Tarim. We case the area in our standard way, with Shey tinying up and flitting out the window to scan the area.  After her report of all clear, Znuul goes over directions with Silithes again.

“I’m not stup
id, you know.  I think I get it,” she says.

Znuul holds out his hand to the
van door. “Your prey awaits mistress.”

 

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