The Hellhound War (Ch9)

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Chapter 9

Telling Tales out of School

When John got back to his apartment, he found Maya looking out the glass door that led to the terrace. Her complete attention was on the mountains that spanned the horizon. Capri was mostly mountainous, so he suspected she was reminiscing of home. While her back was turned to him, John knew he'd see longing in her eyes and he couldn't help but empathized. It made him wonder what her story was. What series of events had taken place, leading her all the way to Tekal, to be sold to a "Kalian" man?

Realizing she hadn't noticed him yet, he noisily made his way to one of the small tables that lined the wall. Picking up a pitcher of water he poured himself a drink.

He heard her heart rate spike before her feet shuffled. His silent approach hadn't been intentional. In fact, he hadn't realized it before but his body instinctively moved quietly. It must have been a side effect that came with his new Slayer enhanced reflexes.

I guess Celia sneaking up on me in the woods had been trivial for her.

Picking up his glass of water, he took a sip.

He still couldn't get over the ridiculousness of their relationship. Social etiquette demanded that he ignore her but how was he going to pretend she didn't exist? As a slave, she was suppose to be furniture to him. Her existence only acknowledged when he wanted to use her. He knew Celia would have his head if he pushed the bounds of propriety any further than he already had with Maya, but as much as he tried he couldn't just ignore her.

"Hide this for me," John said, holding out the Exorcist. "And speak to no one about it."

Maya stepped forward and grabbed the dormant slider. It looked more like an odd looking baton than a dagger.

"Rule number three, Master," Maya said with a hint of derision in her voice.

She hid it well, but John could tell she was offended that he'd reminded her of his rule on privacy. Maya was apparently prideful of her role, something he couldn't fault her for. If anything he respected her more for it.

Picking up the dagger, she grunted as the full weight of the weapon registered with her. Thinking better of it, she grabbed it with both hands. The petite woman stumbled when she made her first step but, with a cute little sound, she righted herself and got a better handle on the heavy weapon.

He should have felt sorry, but he didn't. Instead he tried to mask the smile that threatened him.

Serves you right.

As if reading his mind, she some how managed to glare at him even though her eyes weren't anywhere near him. Slowly, she made her way to one of the living room's walls. Curiosity getting the better of him, he watched her lower the heavy blade down to the floor before pressing a hand against a section of the wall. The wall cracked, forming a square outline, and then receded inward a few inches before sliding off to the side.

The small doorway that appeared was just large enough for her to hunch through.

Peaking over her shoulder, he spied a bed that could just barely fit a small person and above the bed was a shelf. With another cute grunt, she lifted his dagger back up and placed it on the shelf. The sturdy wood protested softly by the added weight but it held.

"No one will look in my room, sir. It should be safe here," Maya said, closing the hideaway door.

Even after watching the hidden door shut, John couldn't tell where the door ended and the wall began. He was impressed by it's craftsmanship. He was also deeply disturbed by it.

She sleeps in that cubbyhole?

He supposed it was better than the alternative but not by much.

John took another sip of his water and contemplated on what to do next. He had a couple of hours to kill until his mentor got back from whatever it was she had to go do. Thankfully his stomach came up with the answer for him. A loud almost animalistic growl emitted from his belly, earning the attention of Maya.

"You'll learn when Slayers are active, we get an insatiable appetite," John explained.

"I'll call for a meal. Do you have any preferences?"

John shook his head. "Surprise me. I'm feeling adventurous."

She gave him a sly smile before making one of her incredibly deep bows.

"Yes Master."

Inwardly he groaned. I'm going to pay for making her hide the Exorcist, aren't I?

She turned for the door and pulled her deep hood up to hide her face, as was customary when a slave left her master's residence, but before she reached the door there was a knock.

That was quick, John thought, turning to set his water down.

"Is your Master in?" A distinctively male voice asked.

John turned sharply towards the small antechamber and instinctively reached for his slider, recognizing the voice.

Maya appeared with Cedrick in tow, but stopped in her tracks when she saw his stance.

"Step away from him," John ordered.

Wide eyed, she nearly threw herself to the wall trying to get away from the Ghourdian.

"Peace!" Cedrick said quickly, holding his hands up.

John hadn't drawn his slider free but his hand stayed on it's grip.

"I came here to clear the air between us," Cedrick pressed, but wisely didn't move a muscle.

John weighed his options and decided to see where the conversation would go.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, still not letting go of his slider.

"I could use a good Ghourdian wine and some goat cheese..." Cedrick said slowly, as if he wasn't sure where the conversation was going.

John turned to the confused Caprian in the room and nodded at her. Bowing her head again, Maya quickly made her exit. If Cedrick lost it again, he felt more at ease knowing she'd be safely out of the room.

"Was she Caprian?" Cedrick asked, shock plain on his face.

"My mentor has a sense of humour," John said, releasing the grip on his slider.

Even though he'd relaxed his posture, he didn't move from his position. Realizing this, the Ghourdian motioned to one of the four oversized plush chairs that dominated the living room.

"Do you play?" Cedrick asked.

John's eyes darted to the table and for the first time he realized that there was a stones board there. Stones was a game as old as dirt, so it didn't surprise John that the North would have it.

"I do," John said, moving towards the chairs just as Cedrick made a move for them. He cautiously maintained his buffer and kept a watchful eye out for the tell tale signs of a quickstep.

When they both made it to their seats without shedding any blood, Cedrick indicated for him to take the black stones, which would give John the slight advantage since black went first.

Wordlessly, John picked up one of the smooth black stones and placed it down on one of the corners of the board. Cedrick immediately followed suit. For a good half hour no one talked as they took turns placing the black and white stones down on the board. Stones was one of those games that took two minutes to learn and a lifetime to master. It was a two player game, each player assigned a color--white or black--and each player took turns putting one of their stones down on where one of the 19 x 19 lines intersected. The goal was to surround the other player's stones and capture them while trying to expand into as much territory as possible. The simple game had the qualities of both offense and defensive plays--very similar to war in John's opinion and just as complicated strategically speaking. The game ended when both players 'passed' their turn and the winner was decided by how much territory they maintained on the board minus the number of pieces that had been captured. A typical game lasted about an hour, but John had seen some games go for as long as eight hours.

"I was a deserter," Cedrick finally said softly.

John's hand paused as it was about to place a stone down.

Cedrick shifted uncomfortably in his seat before John finally placed his piece down.

"Nina was hiding me when my Awakening started," the Ghourdian explained. "She's a distant cousin of mine. Distant enough that I didn't think the Army would find me. But I got deathly sick from my Awakening. The local healer knew what I was going through and called the Slayers. But as soon as Slayer Dean arrived to pick me up, Nina started to Awaken."

Picking up another stone, Cedrick muttered darkly, "The Gods are a vindictive lot."

John hadn't thought about what it meant for a woman to become a Slayer. Celia had hinted it--she was too proud and too stubborn to outright admit it--but he could connect the dots. Women in the North were second class to the men. For a man and a woman of the same station, the woman was lower in rank. A man one rank lower than her was actually her equal unless she were Royal. Even if a woman successfully dodged the threat of becoming a slave in her teens, she was almost always used as a bargaining chip at the alter. Trading a daughter for stronger ties to another family was expected, and the daughter had no say in the matter. But if she were barren, like how all Slayer women were born? Then her "usefulness" was dramatically reduced. A large part of a family's wealth was determined by how many sons they had. It was normal for a family to have fifteen or more children, most put to work at a young age, either on the farm or sold off to another family as a slave. It might have been a rough life in the Empire but it was nothing compared to women born in the North.

It gave John another perspective of Celia.

"I take it Slayer Dean doesn't know that you're a deserter?" John guessed.

Cedrick nodded.

"Sorry for earlier, I... I just lost it." The giant said, bowing his head in shame. "You have to understand, what they do to deserters in Kalain pales in comparison to what they do in Ghourd. Deserting was the most idiotic thing I've ever done and there's not a day that goes by that I don't regret doing it."

Oh, I bet it's nothing like Her Imperial Majesty's Legions, John mused.

He'd seen punishment dealt out once before and, as far as John was concerned, once was one too many times. Punishment was always public, brutal, and inevitably ended in a terrifyingly slow death. Even though it had been nearly a decade ago when he'd watched the spectacle, he could still recall the sights and sounds of the poor soul begging for death as clearly as any Slayer memory.

"For what its worth," John said, leaning back into his chair and letting himself sink into the plush cushions. "Your secret is safe with me."

Cedrick looked him in the eye and, seeing his sincerity, he nodded appreciatively.

"Thank you."

Cedrick eyed the board and took on a pensive look.

"You are impressively good at stones. Is there anything you aren't good at?"

John laughed and he felt the last of the tensions in the room fall away. "I might be handy with the sword and strategy but I'm pretty abysmal at everything else."

Cedrick smiled at that, and then set his stone down right in one of John's traps. It was a small territory that he'd intentionally created as bait.

"Have you met any of the other novices?" Cedrick asked.

"Just Waylon, but he pointed out the others to me this morning."

Cedrick cursed when John attacked another territory. The Ghourdian was faced with either responding to his attack or closing the noose around the small territory he'd just started attacking.

Seeing the man was in a chatty mood, John decided to scratch an itch. "So what's Sid's story?"

"Waylon left you guessing?" Cedrick said with a knowing look. When John nodded, he said, "His mom works in one of the pleasure houses."

Ahhh.

"Well that explains it," John said.

"He was raised by the mages," Cedrick said simply, as if it explained everything. Which in a way, it did. No Slayer would ever trust Sid. While Slayer's had a deep sense of loyalty to their homeland, their distrust in mages ran even deeper. It was a contradiction, of sorts, but it made sense in a weird way.

They exchanged a few more stones before Cedrick made a pained sound.

"That was a trap, wasn't it?"

"Hmmm?" John said, playing coy.

"Don't 'hmmm' me. You know what I'm talking about," Cedrick growled. "And I had walked right into it."

"Still don't know what you're talking about," John said, keeping his innocent face.

Cedrick barked out a laugh, and John could help but laugh with him.

Which was how Maya found them, with three other servants in tow. The look on her face was priceless.

John didn't know if she'd asked for the extra help as backup, in case they truly did come to blows, or if she genuinely thought his appetite called for three giant serving trays of food. He figured it was probably a bit of both.

One of the servants was a Ghourdian, and he was the one who carried the wine and cheeses. It made him wonder if people didn't trust anything that someone from their own nation hadn't prepared for them. Which was silly since a Slayer couldn't be killed by poison. Their healing ability wouldn't let them.

When the Ghourdian servant presented the wine, Cedrick made a sound of approval. "That's a good year," Cedrick said, recovering from his bout of laughter. "I have to hand it to Tekal. They get the good stuff."

"My Lord," the silver clad man said with a bow before he popped open the bottle. Pouring out a glass, he handed it to Cedrick who in turn passed it to John.

"Here," the man said. "The least I can do is introduce you to a proper wine. You Kalian's don't know what you've been missing."

Accepting it, John nodded his thanks and took a sip.

Well I'll be damned.

Seeing the look in his eyes, Cedrick beamed.

"Get that man some cheese," he ordered. "Otherwise it would be blasphemy!"

Chuckling, John accepted a slice of the Ghourdian goat cheese and tried it.

"OK," John admitted. "That's pretty good."

"Pretty good?" Cedrick bellowed. "That's Ghourdian cheese you're eating! You'd be lucky to taste anything half that good."

Smiling, John picked up a stone and placed it down on the board.

"Don't think you've distracted me, my friend," John said, taking a sip of his excellent wine.

Cedrick cursed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Maya's finally snap out of her comically baffled look that hadn't changed much since she'd walked through the door. She directed the servants into spreading the food out along the floor, and then sent the men packing.

In companionable silence, John and Cedrick took a break from the game and ate their feast. The variety of the food was even more than breakfast, and most of the foods he hadn't ever seen before.

"So what's your take on the other novices?" John asked, before taking a bite of some type of bread. The sweetness and flakiness wasn't expected, and he made a mental note to ask Maya what it was later.

Having had his full of cheese, Cedrick tapped his chin with the rim of his wine glass and surveyed the stones board. They were well into the throes of battle now.

"Waylon has a good head on his shoulders," Cedrick said absently. "Natural born leader that comes from a long line of Slayers and a powerful family... which you know already. Easy going and is quick to make friends. He's the most senior novice but he isn't your typical stuffy Royal. His mentor is his great great grandfather, who also happens to be one of the four Captains of Kalian. Overall, he's a decent guy. For a Kalian."

His mentor is a Captain... That probably explains his keen ear to events going on within Tekal.

Cedrick gave him a sly sideways look at the last remark--making sure John caught his jab--before he said, "Dylan, on the other hand, is a five year old in a 25 year old's body. He avoids responsibility like the plague, does everything off the cuff, and enjoys having a good time a little too much. He doesn't come with a filter for his mouth and isn't ever apologetic for it."

He picked up a white stone and hovered his hand over one spot, but then brought it back with a frown.

"Rumour has it that his father was so relieved that his son was--and I quote--'Tekal's problem now' that he threw one of the biggest parties in living memory the day after he left."

Cedrick shook his head.

"And then there's Wes. A spoiled, narcissistic, shallow womanizer who should have been put into his place a long time ago but hasn't because his family enables him. The fact that he follows Dylan around everywhere like a lost puppy doesn't help either. It wouldn't surprise me if Dylan's mentor had encouraged Waylon to befriend Dylan. Dylan and Wes made a pretty big mess of things the first month they were together."

Every fight John had ever walked into, he'd gather as much intelligence on the situation before went in. Knowledge was power. It was the reason why he asked Cedrick for his opinions and why he quietly stored them for later use.

Killing his wine, he took a mouthful of some type of spicy meat soup.

By the Gods that's good! Going back to eating Ce'l's food is going to be hard.

Maya had outdone herself.

The Caprian appeared by his side and refilled his glass. While her eyes were on the floor, he sensed that she was keeping a wary eye on Cedrick. Not once had she refilled his cup, but the Ghourdian didn't seem to mind.

John started on yet another sandwich, also delicious, just as Cedrick finally placed his stone down in a vulnerable area. Devouring the sandwich quickly, John eyed the area they were trading blows in. Taking into account the next five moves he knew the man would make, he placed his stone down on an inconspicuous area.

Cedrick sipped his wine as he took on his pensive expression again. The man knew by now John wasn't a nugget at stones, so he didn't react as quickly as he had before when John made an innocent move.

Minutes ticked by as the Ghourdian tried to make sense of it all. John didn't rush him and instead enjoyed his wine and food. He could have sat there all day playing stones with the man. It kept his mind away from his worries. Like what Celia had in store for him and how much longer he had to twiddle his thumbs before he could really start on the Hellhound mission.

The Gods must have favored the Ghourdian for a knock at the door interrupted their play.

Looking down at the food that should have fed a family of eight, he was surprised to see that Maya hadn't been over zealous. He'd like to blame it on Cedrick but the man had, for the most part, stuck to his wine and cheeses. Even though John's hunger was sedated, he forced the last remnants of the feast into his mouth. He knew he needed all the fuel he could get if he was going to survive Celia. Knowing her, the task wouldn't be easy and it would push him to his limits.

When Maya answered the door, though, John heard a woman asked, "Is Cedrick here?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Cedrick move as if to rise but he stopped himself. The movement was subtle, but it was there. John turned his complete attention on the man and watched his eyes. When Nina entered the living room, he saw his blue eyes dip to what John judged to be her waist before they went back to her eyes.

Just as John had had all his life to gain habits, so had Cedrick.

The one thing that had been bothering John was the calculating look Cedrick had given him the night before. Cedrick's story painted a picture of a man who had acted out of fear. That it had been a knee jerk reaction. But John's gut told him that it was a calculated protective decision.

"You are here," Nina breathed in both surprise and relief. The latter probably because they were playing stones instead of trying to kill each other. "Your slave told me you were visiting John but I didn't quite believe it."

As all the pieces fell into place, he suddenly saw the full picture.

"Holy shit," John blurted out without thinking.

Both Ghourdians turned to him and John cursed himself for thinking with his mouth open.

Cedrick must have seen it in his eyes because they narrowed dangerously.

"He knows," the giant said in a scary voice.

Out of reflex John grabbed his slider under the table, and aimed it at the Ghourdian. His Slayer enhanced brain had already worked out how he'd cut through his sheath and extend his slider into the man, impaling him. The Ghourdian had made the mistake of not bringing his slider, in a sign of peace, but if he was who John thought he was, he'd didn't need it. The man was Dangerous, with a capital D.

"Cedrick..." Nina said slowly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maya behind Nina take a step back.

No, John told himself. It would be nearly impossible to cover this up, and Maya is bound to get hurt in the processes, or worse. I have to salvage this.

"Relax," John said, releasing his hold on his slider and placing both of his hands on the table. "Like I said before, you're secret is safe with me. Both of your's."

"How'd you figure it out?" Cedrick asked, his tone carefully neutral. His body was still tensed, poised to act and John was no fool. It had been a fluke when John had bested him the night before.

"You tipped me off," John said, nodding at Cedrick. "When you almost stood when she entered, and then your eyes were on her waist before you caught yourself. Which makes her Royalty."

Nina straightened her back, confirming his suspicions.

"But a soldier wouldn't have the kind of devotion in protecting a Royal like you do," John said, keeping his eyes on Cedrick. "So you're either a soldier who's head over heels in love with her or you're a member of Shield. Considering the skill I saw the other night, I'm going with the latter."

The twitch in Cedrick's eye at the mention of Shield only reaffirmed his belief. Shield was the Ghourdian version of the Empire's Blood. They were the elite few that swore a blood oath to protect the ruling family. Their specialized training was focused on torture and close personal protection. He suspected Shield, like the Blood, only took in the best of the best. Not only would he be damn good at fighting, but he'd be loyal to a fault. If Nina asked him to, Cedrick would kill himself without a second thought. Hell, he'd probably do it with a smile.

"Which makes her from one of the High Houses," John said, nodding in Nina's direction but keeping his eyes on Cedrick.

Ghourd was divided into nine territories, each ruled by a High Lord. If he was right, then Nina was actually higher in status than most of the Slayers in Tekal.

"But hiding your identity isn't a good enough reason to attack me the other night," John continued. He saw the weariness in Cedrick's eyes and he knew he was on the right path. "Which got me thinking. The odds of a member of the High House and one of the Shield both being Awakened at the same time... that has to be astronomical.

"Seeing the daggers you are sending me right now," John said slowly, holding Cedrick's murderous gaze. "Only confirms it. You were created as a Slayer, not born as one. Which means Ghourd has the means of creating Slayers, a fact that you'd kill to keep hidden for obvious reasons."

The irony hadn't gotten past John when Celia had told him the process in creating a Slayer was a closely guarded secret by the mage's Elders. Knowing now that both Ce'l and Ghourd knew the secret, it made John question just how closely the secret was guarded... or if it was guarded at all. What was most surprising, though, wasn't the fact that Ghourd knew how to make Slayers. Chances were there were mages out there that were of Ghourdian decent that knew the recipe. What surprised John was the fact that a mage would actually turn Cedrick. Mages were a very tight knit group, and that was coming from Celia who infiltrated people for a living. They were so loyal to each other, in fact, that they overcame the loyalty to their respective nations--something that even Slayers, who've had nearly a thousand years to interact with each other, had challenges with.

John saw the wheels turning in Cedrick's head, and he knew the big man was figuring out where he could dispose of the body.

"Cedrick, stop," Nina commanded.

The meek voice John had heard earlier was gone, and in it's place was authority.

It took him by surprise, enough so that he turned to face her just as Cedrick did.

It's like she's a whole other person, he thought, taking in her challenging eyes and regal pose.

"Or need I remind you that it was your sword-first-talk-later attitude back in Alwin that got us into this predicament in the first place?" Nina asked, the disapproval in her voice rang clear.

Cedrick immediately lowered his eyes.

Of course, he forced a Ghourdian mage into turning him, John thought, recognizing Alwin, the capital of the Vaunder territory. It was the city named after the High House that ruled the fourth territory of Ghourd.

Nina Alwin, daughter to one of the most powerful men in Ghourd, shifted her eyes to John and the little white haired woman had him sitting up a little straighter.

You know, she might actually be related to Celia.

"You say you will keep our secrets, but why? What's in it for you?"

...Fuck.

She had an excellent point.

Kalians and Ghourdians weren't on good terms, and a Ghourdian mage creating a Slayer--even under duress--was in direct violation of one of the conditions in the Hellhound Treaty. The treaty had been signed by all three nations and, from what Celia had told him, breaking the treaty meant everyone got involved in unseating the nation who had broken it. "Everyone" included mages and Slayers making it a very short war for the nation who broke it, even if they managed to secure the loyalty of some of the Slayers. As a Kalian, it would benefit him greatly to spill their secrets. That is, if he were a real Kalian. He wasn't up for that level of scrutiny if he made that accusation... assuming he could get out of the room alive.

But if he didn't give her a good enough reason, then he risked the Ghourdian's own scrutiny into his background. And as much as he'd like to believe that the threat of mutual self-destruction would prevent them from talking, he knew better than to take that gamble. He also knew his motivation had to have staying power. Something as simple as money might string them along for a while but it would send them a clear message that he could be bought. And that would only delay Cedrick's sword for so long. No. His motivations had to be strong enough to betray his country, but at the same time be nearly impossible for him to get because once he got it they wouldn't have any leverage over him....

When the idea came to him, he groaned.

Literally, out loud, groaned.

When Nina gave him a curious look, he did his best to recover.

"Have... have you ever heard the expression the heart wants what the heart wants?" John asked, putting on a pained face that wasn't exactly made up.

Nina rose an eyebrow and he immediately realized he was giving the wrong impression.

"Celia," John said quickly, and then he looked down as if he were guilty of something.

Which, he was feeling kind of guilty for some reason.

The best lies are laced with truth, Celia's voice reminded him. He pushed the memory away as quick as it had came.

"Celia?" Nina and Cedrick said as one.

Even Maya looked up in surprise.

"Yes, and I'd appreciate it if you kept this to yourselves. She isn't interested in me and I'm not in the habit of making a fool of myself.... but I'm not going to be the reason why her homeland is burned and pillaged."

Embarrassment aside, he was pretty proud of himself for coming up with the lie on such short notice.

"I see," Nina said slowly. It might have been his imagination but Nina seemed to look at him in a new light.

"What about the slave?" Cedrick ask, turning to Maya.

Maya went rigid.

"What about her?" John said, fearing the answer.

"We can't trust her to keep her tongue," he said, as if it were obvious. "She's Caprian. She's bound to sell the information."

John turned to the redhead, his mind racing as quickly as he knew her's was.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He was out of brilliant ideas and he'd rather burn in all seven hells before he let them kill her.

Under the table, he reached for his slider.

"I gave him my name," Maya said, stopping his hand cold.

Her emerald eyes found his and for once in their odd relationship, she looked him right in the eyes. He didn't see any reservations in them, just clear confidence.

Celia would have applauded her for her acting skills.

If Cedrick and Nina had been surprised before, they were shocked into a stupor this time.

No one said anything for a long moment, and then Nina finally blurted out, "And you accepted?!"

Was she blushing?

Sensing this was good news for Maya, he rolled with it.

"Aye, this morning. So you can trust me when I say she won't be a problem."

His words must have been the right thing to say for they both looked satisfied.

"Well, that was unexpected," Cedrick said.

A knock at the door turned all their heads.

When no one moved, John cleared his throat and jolted Maya out of her trance-like state.

Thank the Gods Celia, you're timing couldn't have been more---

"Is John in?" Waylon asked from the antechamber.

You've got to be kidding me.

Maya led Waylon in, who had Dylan at his heels.

Seeing the Ghourdians there, Waylon's steps slowed. The Kalian took in the stones game, the crumb filled plates, the wine, and Nina who was standing over their game. All of a sudden, John's living room started to feel uncomfortably warm.

No one said anything and the silence turned awkward.

"I think we need could use some more wine..." John said, turning to Maya.

"And cheese," Cedrick added dryly.

Bowing quickly, she nearly bolted out of the room.

Lucky.

"Was she Caprian?" Dylan asked, his eyes on the antechamber that Maya had exited through.

"Off limits," Cedrick said.

John got the impression that it hadn't been the first time he'd said that to the Caprian.

Dylan snorted. "Like that has ever stopped me."

Nina rolled her eyes.

"No," Cedrick replied with a toothy grin before pointing at John. "But John would. He has her name."

Dylan turned to John and blinked.

"The Kalian?" Dylan said, turning back to Cedrick, flabbergasted. "Didn't he just get her?"

Then he turned back to John. "Do you even have a Headmistress?"

Gods, I really need to ask Celia what the hell having her name means.

"And I hear he is good enough with the sword to impress Tekal's blademaster," Cedrick added dryly. "But please, don't let that stop you."

John eyed the Ghourdian wearily, and made a mental note to ask the former Shield what other bits of information the man had. If he operated in anyway like the Blood did, Cedrick would have most of the Ghourdian slaves in Tekal under his thumb. He'd be a spymaster in his own right and there wasn't a law he wouldn't break or boundary he'd wouldn't cross to protect Nina. Knocking a few heads or paying out a few bribes was probably the smallest sin on his list of offenses.

"Impressed him?" Waylon said, quickly getting over the news of Maya with a goading smile. "Don't tell me he gave you his slider?"

"Gave me his slider?" John asked, trying his best to sound confused. "What is that, some sort of sick metaphor?"

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Cedrick with a confused frown and John knew right then the Ghourdian knew the truth. He ignored him, though, and focused on the Kalian.

We keep each other's secrets now, he wanted to tell the Ghourdian.

"No," Waylon laughed. "My mentor told me that on the off chance that he finds a novice worthy, he'll give away one of his blades. He's a bladesmith in his spare time and works with a mage to create some very unique pieces, or so he says. Every single one of his sliders he makes is different. He even names them like they are his children, if you'll believe it. I was also told getting one practically guarantees you a spot with the Alpha's."

Great.

"Did you get one?" Dylan asked.

"No," Waylon replied, crestfallen. "And I lasted a good three bouts with him before he got me."

"I heard most don't get passed two," Nina offered.

"Thanks," Waylon replied sourly, before turning to John. "But that's besides the point. You're having a party and didn't invite me?"

"Well after you ditched me, I had to find new friends," John said with a straight face.

Not that he was bitter.

Waylon snorted. "Yeah, because genius here thought it would be a great idea to try and sneak into Mistress Slayer Tera Spinnal's room to get the answers to the upcoming test."

Nina perked up. "Did you get it?"

Dylan crossed his arms defensively and made a sour look.

"No," he said, glaring at Waylon.

"Who's room?" John asked.

"She is the one who teaches us novices energy manipulation," Waylon said.

"I wouldn't call it teaching," Nina muttered just as Dylan breathed something similar.

Ignoring the two, Waylon said, "Master Slayer Baine Buchanan is the other teacher. He specializes in hunting and tracking. He's the one that puts all the teachings of the two other Master Slayers together. It's where you learn how to hunt and kill Hellhounds as a team."

"I heard if you don't get the OK from Baine, you end up being a Tracker," Dylan said, making a face as if that was the worst thing that could happen.

"So you all have Alpha's as mentors?" John asked.

When everyone but Waylon gave him a "well yeah" look, Waylon explained for him. "Slayer Celia Tecard is his mentor."

Both Cedric and Nina traded a look and John had to school his features tightly least he let loose the laughter that threatened him.

If only you knew the truth.

"Really?" Dylan said, the first one to voice his surprise. "Lucky bastard. I'd be willing to cross sides for her in a heart beat."

"You'd cross sides for anything with a heart beat," Nina muttered under her breath. They were all Slayers so they all heard her.

"Hey, I have standards!" Dylan protested. "And I know I'm not alone on this one."

Turning to Waylon he said, "You've seen her. Even you have to admit she'd be worth losing your House over. Hell, I don't care if she is suppose to be dumber than a door knob. I'd rip that corset off her and--"

Waylon cut him off with a sharp jab to his ribs.

"There's a lady present, mind your manners," he warned.

Dylan rubbed his side and glared at his friend. "Yeah, OK dad."

Nina did her best to ignore them both but it didn't stop the light blush forming around her cheeks.

Dumber than a door knob? John thought, surprised.

"So they're all still busy organizing the Kill Teams?" Cedrick asked Waylon, trying to change the topic.

"Aye, they're all bickering on how the teams should be made. The Headmistress initially wanted them made up of different nations, to maximize their effectiveness, but the Council and the Captains shot that idea down pretty hard."

The door opened and Maya appeared with three servants in tow. Once again, John couldn't help but notice there was a servant from each of the nations, each serving their respective countryman. Except for John.

"Master," Maya whispered just loud enough for him to hear as she leaned in to refill his drink.

Is she trying to tell me something?

Watching his bad manners, he nodded silently in thanks but tried to tell her with his eyes 'later'. She nodded back and returned to her spot over by the window.

He caught Nina watching him, a curious expression on her face, and he did his best to ignore her.

"Bloody hell, this is a damn good wine," Dylan exasperated. "Nothing beats a Caprian Red."

Cedrick nearly choked on his glass, and John saw the making of an argument.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?" John asked, trying to kill the argument before it had a chance to form.

"Tomorrow is a free day," Nina explained, speaking up before her bodyguard could talk. She too saw the challenge in his eyes. "You came at a great time. The Slayers work us hard, so we take free days seriously."

Remind me to never insult his wine.

"During the day, we work with the Master Slayers and do the occasional odd jobs for our mentors," Waylon said, adding to the conversation before Cedrick could add his own two cents. "And at night we hunt with our mentors. Mostly we stay back while the Alpha's do the hunting and killing but it gives you a chance to see how they operate. Every third day we get a break to sleep and relax."

"What about the Alpha's and Trackers? What's a typical day for them?" John prodded. "Before the Kill Teams, that is,"

He wanted to get a sense of how much freedom he'd have with either role.

"Alpha's have it made," Dylan said, joining in. "They sleep through the day and hunt at night. Trackers do all the bitch work."

"Trackers have the most dangerous job," Waylon said, giving Dylan a chastised look. "They Track at night and try to keep out of the Hellhound's way until the Alpha's get there. Out of all the Slayers that have died, vast majority of them have been Trackers."

Turning to John, he said, "During the day, they visit the towns in the territory they protect and make sure no one had been breached. They report back to Tekal any sightings the townsmen might have made or any unusual behavior. And, occasionally, they call for enforcements to protect the walls while repairs are made."

So I'll have a lot of freedom during the day as a Tracker, as Celia had said, but it sounds like I might also get some time if I'm an Alpha too... assuming I don't exert myself too much at night.

Dylan snickered. "Yeah, who would want to be a Tracker?"

The door closed loudly and all eyes went to Celia.

Awkward.

And then another thought hit him.

Damnit Maya, you couldn't have told me "Celia is here"?

All at once everyone stood up and John almost kicked himself for not joining in right away. When a higher ranking person entered the room, you were suppose to stand.

"Leave us," Celia said.

Those two words had the room evacuated faster than John could say "hells bells she looks pissed".

When the door closed behind Waylon, however, John caught the barest twinkle in her eye.

"You enjoy making them scramble over themselves, don't you?" he accused her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, novice," Celia said primly, but her eyes said otherwise.

He took in her pitch black corset, with it's thin white accents, and her short charcoal grey riding skirt.

"We're leaving Tekal?" he guessed.

Turning on her heels she said, "Come along."

"Yes Slayer Celia," he said with a measured tone, forcing himself back into character for Maya's benefit.

As he left the comforts of his apartment, a sense of dread slowly came over him, intensifying with each passing step.

He'd almost forgotten.

How in the seven hells am I going to explain to her what just happened?

Chapter 10:

http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2014964-The-Hellhound-War-Ch10

Or

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hzVbvayKc1fZsLf-DiUeHs1pxiWAaSBUxRBocrAKVps/edit?usp=sharing