Assassin's Curse (35 page)

“That goes for you too….”

Kara whipped the knives at Mary and used a wind spell to drive them faster than the eye could follow.
 
Mary was slammed onto her back.
 
She could hardly breathe as she looked at the two blade handles that were suddenly sprouting from her chest.
 
The force of the throw was so great that the blades had sunk up to the hilt and had thrown Mary backwards away from Jeda.
 
As Mary lay in agony, the two girls rushed their downed father.
 

“Poppy, Poppy,” Kala cried.
 
“Please don’t die.
 
You can’t die.”

Kala immediately put her hands on Jeda’s back to begin the agonizing process of healing him.
 
Though she was strong in the power, she did not have much experience beyond the few lessons Natasha had taught her.
 
Kara knelt beside her sister, her fists clenched by her side.
 
She was helpless to aid Kala.
 
As strong as she was in
knife-throwing
, she lacked the basic skills for any type of healing.

“Kara, help me.
 
You have to pull the knife out of Poppy’s back.”

“No!” came a voice from the doorway.
 
“Don’t touch that blade or you might kill your father.”

The girls looked up to see Natasha rushing forward to them.
 
She knelt beside Jeda and placed her own hands on him and began to probe his wounds.

Jeda groaned.

“Poppy, please don’t die,” Kala said.

“We can do this,” Natasha said, looking at Kala.
 
“But I’ll need your help.
 
Kara, you keep an eye out for any other unwelcomed guests.”

“You mean like her.”
 
Kara pointed at Mirabelle standing in the doorway.

Mirabelle stood in the doorway, not knowing whether to come in or to run for her life.
 

Natasha gestured for Mirabelle to move to the side of the room.
 
“We’ll talk about your part in this later.”

Mirabelle scurried over to the nearest corner and tried to wedge herself as far into it as possible.
 
The whole series of events was more than she had ever imagined and threatened to completely overwhelm her already-scattered mind.
 
Once Natasha was confidant Mirabelle would cause no immediate harm, she turned back to Kara.
  
   

“Kara, I need you to bind that assassin’s hands and feet.
 
He’s not dead and I don’t want any trouble from him when he wakes.
 
And please, watch the door.”

“Nana,” Kara pointed at the female assassin’s prostrate body.
 
“What about her?”
   

“I’m afraid she will be leaving us all too soon,” Natasha replied, looking over at Mary.
 
“Your knives struck her heart and lung and I do not have the strength to save her and your father too.
 
Sometimes in life, you have to make hard choices.
 
She made hers and I’ve made mine.”

Kara went out into the other end of the stable and tied the unconscious assassin’s hands and feet before walking back over to Mary to retrieve her blades.
 
The prone woman was no longer breathing and Kara summarily removed the two blades from her chest, inspecting them as she did for any nicks or cuts along the blades’ edges, just as her father had taught her.
 
She began to wipe the blood and gore off each blade using Mary’s tunic while closely watching Natasha and Kala begin their healing work on her father.
 
She silently thanked the gods she had the easy task.

Mirabelle nearly gagged at the young girl’s callous treatment of the dead woman.
 
“Gods help us.”

Kara looked over at her and was amazed at how small the big woman looked cowering in the corner.
 
She shook her head in disgust and turned back to watch the healing.
  
       

Natasha smiled reassuringly at Kala, who stared back wide-eyed and nervous.
 
“Let’s begin.
 
I will heal his leg while you heal his arm.”

“Shouldn’t we remove the knife and heal the back first, Nana?”

“No, that blade is in deep and looks to have cut his spinal cord.
 
He will need all his strength and energy to recover from that and does not need the other wounds as distractions.”

In short course, the two other wounds were closed and healed.
 
Jeda would have two more scars to talk about around the campfire.

“Now, we remove the blade.
 
When I tell you, you will gently and slowly pull the blade back.
 
As you pull on the blade, I want you to heal the surrounding muscle and tissue.
 
I will be repairing the nerves as you remove the knife.
 
You must go slowly so I can correctly heal all the nerves that have been cut.
 
One wrong move and he will never walk again.”

Kala’s eyes watered at Natasha’s warning.

“It will be fine, Kala.
 
I only want you to understand the severity of the situation and do everything exactly as I tell you.”

Kara stood in the doorway, in rapt attention, watching what they were doing, occasionally shooting Mirabelle a black look that spoke volumes.
 

“Are you ready?”

“Yes Nana, I’m ready.”

Natasha spent a moment repositioning herself beside Jeda’s back and laid her hands above and below the wound.

“Now, you lay one hand beside the knife to heal the muscles while you pull the knife out very slowly with the other.
 
I will be following you from the inside healing the nerves that have been damaged as you remove the blade.”

The next minutes went by agonizingly slowly and with the eerie quiet of a graveyard while the two worked on Jeda.
 
Kala removed the blade inch by inch and healed the muscles and skin where it had pierced Jeda’s back until the knife was out.
 
Natasha continued to concentrate.
 
Finally, after what seemed like hours, she sat back and smiled.

“That should do it,” Natasha said, looking at Kala.
 
“You did your part very well.
 
Your father will be proud.”

“Will he be able to move?
 
Will he walk again?”

“I believe so,” Natasha smiled wearily.
 
“I managed to heal all the damage I found.
 
Now we wait to see if there was something I missed.”

The camp was unusually quiet for the time of day.
 
It was late afternoon and the atmosphere of carnival was missing, along with the displays and decorations the troupe used for the entertainment and delight of their customers.
 
What little remained of the show was being packed and stored safely away for the trip to the next stop along the gypsy’s route.
 
The troupe would leave as they had arrived, in the dead of the night.
 
Popping up mysteriously and leaving in this manner added to the mystique and reputation that delighted the townsfolk they entertained.
 
Of course, the adults of the community knew when and how the gypsies left, but the mystery remained alive for their wide-eyed children.

Mave surveyed the gypsy camp from its perimeter, wondering where the traitor might be hiding.
 
He had already reconnoitered the camp in the
off-chance
he could spot Jeda and the twins.
 
That would have made his plans for abducting them so much easier.
 
Unfortunately, neither Jeda nor the twins were to be seen, so Mave had no choice but to enter the camp disguised as a merchant.
 
As he and his two men strode into camp, they were met by one of the men packing the last of the pavilions away.

“I’m afraid there is no entertainment today, good sirs,” the gypsy said, smiling at the men.
 
“We’re near-packed and ready to journey along the road to new adventures.
 
We should visit your fair town again near the end of harvest, if you can wait that long.
 
If not, then you can always travel to the next stop along our path.”

“Ah, our visit is not for entertainment,” Mave replied.
 
“We are here for business today.”

Mave motioned to the two men behind him.
 
They stepped forward and opened two leather cases displaying rows of matching knives.
 
They were beautifully wrought with exquisite detail in the handles.
 
The gypsy’s eyes widened when he saw the display.
 
The knives in the cases were of the finest quality.

“We’ve come in hopes of selling these to your blade handlers.
 
I’ve heard they use them quite extensively during your shows,” Mave continued, knowing this ruse would at least get him inside the camp.
 

“You’ve heard correct, sir, but you’ll want to talk with our Master of Knives.
 
His name is Jeda.”
 
The gypsy pointed.
 
“That is his family wagon over there.
 
I am not sure exactly where he might be, but his lovely wife should be able to help you.
 
Come, I will take you there.”

Master of Knives and husband?
 
So the traitor has done well for himself,
Mave inwardly chuckled,
but still playing with knives.

“Thank you; you are most kind.”
 
Mave gave a slight nod to the gypsy and the men behind him closed the cases.

Mave’s plan was simple but effective.
 
Any abduction in broad daylight called for boldness and stealth.
 
Mave and his men planned to move quickly to subdue the twins and Jeda with blow darts covered with a tincture of extract from the herb called Darkshade.
 
It would render them all unconscious in seconds and each would be wrapped in a large burlap bag the assassins carried.
 
The bags would then be carried by Mave and his men
as if carrying sacks of grain.
 
It was a simple plan, but a most effective one, just as he preferred.

As they walked behind the gypsy, Mave and his men surveyed the camp.
 
Everyone seemed busy with packing and very few paid any attention to the small group walking toward Jeda’s wagon.
 
He did spot one guard in the rear of the camp, but little else that would put his plan in jeopardy.
 
Mave thought if Jeda was not in the camp, then he would have to be satisfied with capturing the twins first.
 
This prospect did not readily concern him because he knew that Jeda would follow in some misguided, parental attempt at rescuing them and Mave would capture him at that time.
 

The gypsy walked up to the wagon and knocked on the closed door.
 
It was eventually opened by a sleepy woman, large with child
.

This gets better and better
, Mave thought, seeing the pregnant woman.

“Sorry, Ms. Keisha, I wouldn’t normally disturb you, but I saw Jeda and the twins heading off in the supply wagon earlier.
 
These men have some very nice knives for sale and I thought you might want to take a look at them on his behalf.
 
It would be a shame to pass up such an opportunity as this.”

“That’s all right, Mathew.
 
It was time I was getting up in any case,” Keisha said.
 
She smiled politely at the group of men.
 
“I’m sorry, but my husband is on a trip to town, but I would be happy to look at your wares.”
 
She reached for the railing on the steep staircase attached to the wagon.
 
“Just give me a moment to come down.”

Mave was adjusting his plans with each bit of information he learned.
 
With all three of his targets gone, his kidnapping plans went up in smoke.
 
He looked furtively around the camp to find anything that might salvage this mission.
 
He mentally ticked off everything he had learned since arriving.
 
Jeda was the Master Knife of this gypsy troupe, but he wasn’t here.
 
The twins also lived with the gypsies, but they had gone along with Jeda.
 
Security for the camp was low right now and if he was going to do anything, it had to be now.
 
That’s when he noticed the key to his success standing right in front of him.
 

If the traitor is not here now, then I will force him to come to me later.
 

 
“That’s quite all right, Madam,” Mave replied stepping onto the bottom stair.
 
“There is no need for you to strain yourself coming down.
 
We can show you our merchandise from here.”
 
He palmed one of the darts he was carrying and took one of the blades from the first leather case.