After a few minutes, Valek lunged and slashed at her midsection, knocking the weapon from her right hand. He pressed his advantage before she could pull another blade, keeping her arms busy. If Hedda had trained her, she would have three or four more daggers hidden in her clothes.
As the fight continued, she managed to grab another knife. By that time, Valek’d had enough. He stepped back, flipped his weapons over, grasping the blades, and threw them. The hilts slammed into her wrists, numbing her hands. She yelped and her knives clanged to the floor.
Then he shuffled in close and punched her. Hard. With a whoosh, she fell back. He followed her to the floor and pressed one of his favorite daggers to her throat.
“That’s...” she panted “...not...fair.”
“Hedda must have gotten soft in her old age. When she trained me, the words not fair were not part of her vocabulary.”
She grimaced. Ah, he’d hit a nerve. Perhaps the young assassin didn’t agree with all of Hedda’s philosophies.
“Did she send you?” he asked.
Clamping her mouth shut, she stared at him.
“Who trained you?”
The Commander stood and yawned. “While that was entertaining, I must get to bed. Clean up the mess, Valek.”
“Yes, sir.”
The assassin sucked in a quick breath, showing her fear. Hedda hadn’t driven all emotion from the young woman. Which made him wonder if this young pup had finished the training.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“To kill you and take your place.”
That would explain why she hadn’t slit the Commander’s throat. But he couldn’t trust her. He yanked a dart from his belt and jabbed it into her arm.
“Listen up. If what you said is true, then I’ll lock you in the dungeon. Escape and find me and we’ll talk. There’s no need to kill me to take my job. Just show that you’re smart, capable, resourceful, cunning, trustworthy, loyal, ruthless and are willing to give your life for the Commander’s and the job is yours.”
She opened her mouth, but instead of words a soft “oh” escaped her lips as the goo-goo juice pumped through her body. Valek stood, gathered all the weapons and pulled her to her feet. She swayed. He grabbed his drink and downed it in one gulp.
What a night.
Picking up a lantern, he led her to his suite so their conversation didn’t bother the Commander. She plopped into a chair and scanned the room with a bewildered expression. “So...much...junk! Are you an assassin or a crow?”
Crouching next to her, he asked, “What’s your name?”
“Onora. I’m an assassin. Shh...don’t tell anyone.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“Which Military District are you from?”
“MD-2. I escaped.”
“Escaped from what?”
“The captain. Shh...don’t tell him I’m here.”
“Captain who?”
“Cap-pa-tain Timmer, thinks he’s a winner, and we must all obey,” she sang.
“Why are you here?” he asked again since it was almost impossible to lie while under the influence of the goo-goo juice.
“To kill. You, of all people, should know that! King killer.”
No doubt Hedda had trained her. “Did Hedda send you?”
“Hedda smedda. Crazy old bat. Stubborn. Stupid. Gone. Gone for good.”
“You killed her?”
“I...stopped her. No more assassins.”
Ice coated his heart. “She’s dead?”
“Right-o! Dead to the world.”
Valek stood and fingered his dagger. Hedda had taught him the skills that had kept him alive all these years. Anger and sorrow melted the ice inside him and Valek aimed the tip of the knife at her throat.
He buried the blade into the cushion next to her head. Onora jumped. He could always change his mind. Perhaps after he’d wrung every bit of information from her.
“How did you get into the castle?”
Onora explained in a roundabout rambling way how she slipped past the gate’s guards, climbed up the side of the castle, jimmied open a window. “Easy as pie in the oven.”
“How did you know where the Commander’s suite is?”
“Gotta friend working inside. Shh...sweet soul doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t know what?”
“Doesn’t know I know. I tricked. Have to protect... Have to protect...”
“Protect who?”
She shook her head. “Have to... Have to...protect.”
Even with the goo-goo juice, Onora wouldn’t say the name of her friend. Frustrating. At least it sounded as if the friend had been an unwitting accomplice.
When Valek was satisfied, he pulled her up and towed her to the guards outside the main door.
“I found an intruder in the Commander’s suite,” Valek said, handing her over.
The guards straightened as the color leaked from their faces.
“Ha,” Onora said. “I found him!”
Valek gestured to two of the men. “Take her to the dungeon. Have Lieutenant Abira strip-search her, check every inch of her skin for putty, comb her hair for weapons and dress her in one of our coveralls before incarcerating her. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We will discuss this incident in the morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
Before they left, Valek pricked Onora with another dose of goo-goo juice to ensure she’d remain incapacitated until morning. It would be interesting to see if she was resourceful enough to escape the dungeon.