Blake's Tournament

The two men stared at each other across the blades of twin swords. The weapons were as plain as the men, nondescript and unmemorable. Their eyes flashed green in the moonlight as they examined each other. Their clothes were plain pants and long sleeve shirts, available anywhere in the world.

The darker of the two, an Oriental, pushed his opponent away with a shrug of his shoulders. He tried to follow the move with a short stab that would punch through the hull of a battleship. His sword clanged against the other in a shower of sparks before it snapped in his grip. He jumped back, reflexes acting on their own to try to save his life.

The other man flung his sword like a throwing knife. It seemed to vanish for a moment before reappearing in the chest of the unarmed man. The throw pushed the hilt halfway through the rib cage before it stopped.

"Too bad, Wong," said the killer. "You could have lived if you had walked away."

The fair-haired man pulled his weapon from the corpse. He shook the blood off the blade with a flick of his wrist. It gleamed as it cut the air. He turned and walked away in the darkness of the surrounding forest.

Adam Blake stood at the reading table in his library. Culver Morrigan, one of his aides, sat at the table. Morrigan had suffered a wound to his face which had left him with a permanent sneer. Blake's face was unreadable as usual.

Morrigan waited impatiently. Blake had gone to England to assist the Diana Foundation. While he was gone, the assistant had come under fire from a mysterious assassin. His investigation had caused the death of one of the Brand Brothers. The other brother had vowed revenge on Cully.

Morrigan had decided to inform Blake. He hoped the investigator could see some way to track down the foe behind the now dead assassin. Blake's silence was not encouraging.

"I will talk to the police department," Blake said. "Perhaps there will be some lead in the Hook's personal effects. If there is, we will pursue it."

"Thanks, Chief," said Morrigan. "I'm not much of a detective. I just shoot people."

The bell rang before Blake could comment.

Blake and Morrigan left the library, and crossed to the door. The sneering man's hand slid under his suit jacket. He had more enemies than he could count, and Blake's recent activities wouldn't win him any prizes either.

Blake opened the heavy door quietly.

"Mr. Blake," said a youth with red hair. "My name is Richard. I have been asked to invite you to the Gathering at Kwan Lee."

"Gathering?," said Blake. "Please come in."

Blake stepped aside to allow the younger man to enter his headquarters. Metallic green eyes glinted as he examined his visitor.

Richard wore a jacket over loose cotton pants and shirt. His hands were wrapped in cotton strips like a boxer's. Metallic green eyes, much like Blake's own, examined the welcoming room without falling on one thing or the other.

"What's this about, Chief?," asked Morrigan.

"Richard is a student in the tradition that I have studied many years ago," said Blake. "A Gathering has been called to appoint a new master of that tradition. It is a tournament of the best students to see who has mastered the necessary skills to train others in the more arcane forms of the art."

"You are correct," said Richard. "I have another purpose for this visit. Someone has killed some of the students before the tournament, and I have been charged to find and stop him. Kung Lao directed me to you to enlist your aid in that endeavor."

"I see," said Blake. "Everyone assumes that a student has committed these crimes?"

"There is no doubt," said Richard. "Only a student with the proper skills could do what I have seen done."

"I assume Kung Lao is the current holder of the mastership," said Blake. "What makes him think the student will attend the Gathering?"

"The victims that we know about seemed to have been stopped on the way to the assembly point before sailing to Kwan Lee from Hong Kong," said Richard. "Kung Lao thinks that is where we should begin to look for this murderer."

"Allow me some time to prepare," said Blake. "Please wait here."

Blake gestured for Morrigan to follow him into his lab. He produced his pad and pen and wrote instructions on the page silently. He tore the sheet off and handed it to the ex-hit man.

"Talk to our friends at the Foundation for local help," said Blake, putting the pad and pen away.

"Got it," said Morrigan, examining the list. "Everything should be like clockwork."

"Perhaps," said Blake. He set out his equipment vest and a change of clothes as Morrigan left to carry out his task.

Adam Blake and Richard decided to follow the traditional route of the gathering students. That meant they would sail across the Pacific, and then walk from Shanghai to the mountainous interior of China.

They hoped that the attacker would make a move somewhere along that path.

Otherwise they would have to carry their investigation to the tournament grounds, where all of the students would be suspects.

Even Richard.

Still watching for the attack should allow him time to prevent any harm to himself.

If nothing happened before the Gathering, Blake would apply his methods to the problem. Something would present itself.

At least his aides would be digging into the matter while he waited. The Diana Foundation knew people in the People's Republic that could give them some access to the crime scenes. Couple that with Morrigan's determination and Paul Twitchell's luck and some scrap of information would surface under their probing.

There was no doubt about that.

Whether or not it would be useful information would have to be determined.

Blake booked passage on a freighter for the both of them. It would take a few weeks for the trip to China. He and Richard would have barely a month for their walk to Kwan Lee. It wasn't a big window of opportunity for the murderer to strike at them.

If he struck at all on the road.

The freighter sailed into Shanghai's harbors after weeks of a calm sea. Blake and Richard descended the gang plank with the strange grace they shared. The sneering Cully Morrigan waited for them at the end of the pier, hands in the pockets of his trench coat, a hat pulled low to shade his face. A cigarette burned at the corner of his mouth.

"Report," Blake said, as the gun man fell in beside him.

"There hasn't been another uncommon murder while you were at sea," said Morrigan. "The ones we looked into were messy, really messy."

Blake nodded to say he expected that much.

"A local guy from the Foundation was able to get us the reports," Morrigan continued. "Twitch and I have been going over them, canvassing the local hotels, and passages from Hong Kong to the mainland. Twitch is still there at the hotel, looking around."

"Do you have a map with you?," Blake said.

"Don't leave home without it," said Morrigan, pulling a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket.

Blake took it gently, and opened it. He picked a spot with his finger.

"Get Mr. Twitchell and his files, and meet us here," said Blake. "We will be walking along this road to the river."

"Got it, Chief," said Morrigan, folding up the map after memorizing the spot. "Twitch said to watch out for a blond guy."

"Why?," asked Richard.

"Don't know," said Morrigan. "Something about the pictures, I guess."

"Thank you, Mr. Morrigan," said Blake. "We will expect you at the meeting in two days. Do you think that will be enough time?"

"Plenty," said the former hijacker. "We'll be there."

The meeting broke up. Morrigan headed for the airport to fly back to Hong Kong. Blake and Richard started walking to the interior of the country.

Blake and Richard made their way across Shanghai slowly. They had to exercise their training until the locals finally passed the message to leave the strange white devils alone. The investigator had let Richard deal with most of the attempted beatings until a man had pulled a pistol and opened fire. He caught the bullets quietly, letting the man believe he had missed all six times. Then the student had caught the man and slapped him down.

Once they had walked out of the port city, the attempts stopped.

Blake indicated a train track as their route. He started along the metal rails silently. They would be at the meeting place ahead of schedule if things remained quiet.

"There are two blond students," said Richard. "They are both very advanced in their skills, perhaps better than me. I had heard that they lived in Europe. It would be unusual to see them here before the Gathering was called."

"Mr. Twitchell probably noticed one of these two men in a photo taken by the police," said Blake. "A piece of luck if there is a connection between this man and the suspicious deaths."

"One of the men is named Krauser," said Richard. "He is a German national. I have heard that he has an estate outside of Munich. His family was one of the few not to lose their wealth when the Allies marched to Berlin.

"The other is a Spaniard named Vega. His family is famous as matadors. I do not know if they know each other personally."

Blake said nothing, preferring to keep his thoughts to himself.

Cully Morrigan had collected his associate Twitch Twitchell from their Hong Kong hotel as soon as he could get a plane back to the other city. Twitch was a shaky individual with a slight build, and ruffled suit. He had spent the day packing clothes just in case they needed to be ready to leave. Morrigan grabbed his case, and hustled his colleague back to the airport to fly back to Shanghai.

Cully bought a battered car when they got back to the port. Looking at stiffs for a month was not his idea of action. Movement was what he lived for, even if he didn't know where he was going.

They picked up Blake and Richard at the meeting place at the right time. The two men seemed ready for things to happen. Cully had seen it before. Blake acquired a stillness beyond his usual watchfulness. When he did that, there was trouble in the offing.

"I brought the stuff, Chief," said Twitch, digging the files out. "The Brits were really helpful with those Foundation guys putting the word in for us. These murders looked like knock down drag outs to me."

"Show him the picture," Cully said, concentrating on his driving on the unpaved road.

Adam Blake and his two aides followed Richard up the long, wide, shallow steps leading to wooden home of Kung Lao, the One. The Gathering had brought all of the surviving students to the village of Kwan Lee. A small lake glittered against the wooden buildings that crept up to the shore.

"Are you sure you should go through with this?," Twitch asked.

Richard had identified the photo as Wolfgang Krauser, the student from Germany. The American's assessment of the other's skill was that he was good enough for the various battles that had taken place in Hong Kong.

Blake had nodded, studying the picture with his metallic green eyes.

"We have no evidence that the man in the photo did anything," said Blake. "At a tournament like this, any amount of force could be justified. We need a way to impeach this man, or disprove the claim."

"The training should not be used for murder," said Richard. "Only for a defense."

Blake nodded as the door of the house opened. A slight Oriental stood on the threshold, smiling slightly. His face was an old walnut with metallic green eyes smiling out at the world.

"Master Lao," Blake said, nodding.

"Master Shih," Kung Lao said, nodding in return.

The men stepped inside the house's one room. Richard seemed taken aback by Kung Lao's address of Blake as master, as an equal. Morrigan wondered how many names Blake had used. That thing in England had called him Tempus when they confronted it. Twitch looked confused, but kept mum.

He would get the lowdown from Cully later.

"I am pleased that you accepted my invitation, Master Shih," the wizened One said.

"I am interested in your problem," said the investigator. "My name is Blake now."

"Of course," said Kung Lao. "What do you think of my problem?"

"We have a small suspicion, but no evidence," said Blake. "My associates have done what they can with the official files, but it is still an open matter as to who is the killer."

"How do you plan to proceed?," Kung Lao asked.

One finger stirred the master's tea for a moment. Steam poured up in a gentle curlicue. He sipped at it, smiling at the warmth.

"I believe that the killer will continue to kill in the Gathering," said Blake. "As well as outside of it. Perhaps we will be able to catch him before he kills any more of the other students."

The students, and Blake's group, gathered in a yard near the lake. Kung Lao took his place beside a large pot. The container was decorated with green flames and a circular row of Chinese letters.

"Thank you all for attending this tournament," Kung Lao said. "We also have visitors observing our proceedings for the first time in many years. Mr. Morrigan and Mr. Twitchell."

The two aides nodded at the sudden attention most of the combatants leveled at them.

"As you know, all of the matches will be decided by lots," said Kung Lao. "All of your names have been inscribed on flat stone and placed in this holder. The selection process will begin."

Kung Lao slapped the back of the pot. The vassal split apart. The lots flashed through the air at the gathered fighters. Hands snatched the stones from the air with blinding speed.

"Did everyone catch a stone with someone else's name on it?," said Kung Lao, smiling gently. "If so, let us begin the fights."

Cully and Twitch watched with interest from the sidelines as the students took their places on either side of the small battle circle. Most fights ended a few seconds after Kung Lao gave the call to start. The blows were exchanged faster than the two aides could see.

Richard's turn was halfway in the rotation. His fight ended as the sound of Kung Lao's voice died away. He joined the two aides while his opponent was being carried away by helpers hired from Kwan Lee.

"What do you think?," Richard asked the two outsiders.

"Is it normal for things to be over so fast?," Twitch asked. "Guys are dropping like flies."

"I think so," said Richard. "The last Gathering was before most of us here were born. Master Lao is older than he looks."

"I can believe that," said Twitch.

Wolfgang Krauser stepped into the ring as the men talked. His opponent walked over the line on the other side of the small battlefield. Krauser smiled, ignoring the man's small nod. Kung Lao gave the command. Krauser's foe disappeared in a cloud of blood spraying upwards. Krauser stepped from the ring.

"A little excessive," said Morrigan.

Richard nodded. It wasn't proof, but Krauser's fight showed the fact he intended to kill anyone in his way to being the One.

Adam Blake's first fight was the day's last one. He wore the black fatigues with the gold hourglass pin his aides were used to seeing him wear when he expected a fight. He waited on one side of the ring for the student who had caught the matching stone to step in on the other side.

"Li Wang Tang," said Kung Lao, holding up a hand to get the younger man's attention. "You may choose someone else to fight. Mr. Blake is extremely skilled."

"Master," said the student. "I will fight no other."

"Begin," said Kung Lao, dropping his hand.

Li Wang Tang swarmed across the ring as fast as a bolt of white and black lightning. He seemed to disappear. He reappeared, sliding across the rough stones to cross the ring's borders.

Blake seemed not to move at all. He turned to face the heavier man with his arms still by his side. He waited for Tang to push to his feet and approach more cautiously.

"I do not believe my eyes," said Richard.

Tang cautiously swung a right hand in an open-handed strike. His hand swept through open air with a buzzsaw whine. He brought it back in a diagonal cut. He still only touched the air.

"The chief is full of surprises," said Twitch, his usual vibration had ceased as he watched the match.

"Who is this Master Shih?," said Cully.

"He was a student who became a master at a Gathering such as this," said Richard. "He disappeared a few years later. History said he stepped down after calling a Gathering to replace him. He was supposedly a minor hero to the people around Kwan Lee."

Morrigan nodded at the story. It certainly fit with what that thing in England had done when it had recognized Blake as Sir Tempus. Blake had told it that Tempus wasn't his name now, just as he had to Kung Lao. Then there was that guy on the volcanic island. What name had he used? Rider, wasn't it?

Blake held up one hand, palm facing outward, fingers spread apart. He waited for Tang to take the hand. The student cautiously seized the hand with his own. Waves began to roll off the two combatants, green flames burning in their eyes. Suddenly Li Wang Tang flew from the grip. He landed heavily. He passed out, as the tiny flickers of green flame vanished in the clear air.

The sun set as the students that had failed the contests of the day were offered the hospitality of the village before they left to further perfect their skills before the next Gathering whenever it took place in the future.

The winners retired to the guests' cottages provided by Kung Lao's predecessors. Blake's party and Richard had been able to secure accommodations away from the other fighters. Their conversation, as they prepared their evening meal, was guarded.

They were all aware of the excellent hearing of those around them.

"I do not think I have ever seen a counter like you performed today," Richard said. "Can you show me how you did it?"

"You concentrate on a single point," said Blake. "It is chi versus chi if your opponent closes on that point. Li Wang Tang will know the trick of it when he recovers. Perhaps he will show you."

"I understand," said Richard.

How could he hope to take the office of the One, if he could not learn a technique on his own? Blake shouldn't have to show him the skill at this stage of his training. His own observations and limited mastery should be enough.

Richard relaxed as he ate. He concentrated on what he had seen as Blake and Tang had fought. He called forth his chi as he would when he was using the training to perform some feat. It felt wrong. His thoughts superimposed an image of Kung Lao's finger stirring his tea over the two men standing against each other. Suddenly Richard knew that to master what Blake had done, what Kung Lao could do, was to let his energy flow to suit his purpose on its own. He couldn't force it into a shape that it would not take naturally.

Richard smiled as he picked up a piece of fish from his plate. He rubbed it slightly with his fingertips. The cooked meat browned even further under his attention.

A young woman serving Kung Lao for the Gathering found the body the next day. It had been left between two of the cottages provided for the aspiring students. It didn't have a mark on it. The servant immediately ran to tell the One what she had found. Kung Lao summoned Blake and Richard to his side as he went to see for himself.

"Poisoned," Blake said, after a cursory examination. "I do not know what was used, but I think death was instantaneous."

"I do not see any traces of anyone other than the servant approaching the body," said Richard. "That would be the case if one of the students approached him here."

"That means nothing if his food was poisoned," Kung Lao pointed out. "What is your opinion, Master Blake?"

"I am not a real medical expert," said the investigator. "I have some equipment that I can use to find a needle mark, or any other means to give him the poison, as well as what was used."

"The match begins in another few hours," said Kung Lao. "Please do you what you can before the selection of lots begins."

"We will do what we can," said Blake.

Kung Lao nodded. He left to finish the rest of the preparations for the day's fights.

"Let us see what we can do," Blake said.

Blake took a cloth sheet from the victim's lodging and wrapped the body in it. He carried the corpse to his own place to get started.

Blake installed the body on a table in the only room of his cottage. He looked through the equipment cases that he had asked his assistants to bring along. There was no doubt in his own mind that some kind of poison had been used.

The first thing was to eliminate any method of contamination that might be construed as accidental.

Blake took a flashlight from one of the cases. He installed a filter over the lamp before putting it to one side. He carefully pulled the victim's clothing apart along the seams. He rolled the body, pulling the sheet and torn clothing from under the body.

"Evidence bag," Blake said, folding the garb and cover together. Morrigan pulled a flat transparent bag from another case, and held it open with both hands. The cloth went into the sack for study later.

"Is this really necessary, Chief?," Twitch asked, averting his eyes from the nude corpse.

"Only if the poison cannot be readily identified," said Blake, playing his light over the body's front. The blue beam moved relentlessly from head to toe. "There is no telling what was used until we perform our tests."

Blake flipped the corpse on its belly, then ran the beam from the light down its back. He paused at a spot on the victim's upper arm. He examined that spot before moving the light once more.

"A scalpel, Mr. Morrigan," Blake said, focusing on that spot on the upper arm again.

Adam Blake and his assistants waited as the matches started. He had discussed his findings with Kung Lao before the selection process. The tissue sample had held a toxin, but it was something that his equipment had never seen before.

The simple conclusion was that one of the students had killed the unfortunate fighter to avoid facing him in the second and third rounds of the Gathering. The question remained who?

Blake needed more information before he could say for sure. One more day of watching should give him some indication of guilt, unless the poisoner was so poor with his hands that he was eliminated.

The fights flew by as Blake stood on the sidelines and watched. As soon as the first match started, Cully Morrigan and Twitch Twitchell had gone and started searching the belongings of the students.

He hoped they would not be caught by fighters returning to their cottages to pack.

That would be embarrassing to say the least.

Blake's match was again the final match of the day. Kung Lao asked the student if he would rather fight someone else. The student said he would welcome the chance to battle. Blake stepped in the ring, letting his body take over as he put his mind in a box. The student didn't try to match chi with the master, preferring to battle with lightning hands and feet. The man from tomorrow stepped away from each blow, until he slipped his finger pass the other's defenses. The student fell over from the impact.

Adam Blake stood at the edge of the lake, looking out over the water. His technology had confirmed his guess about the poisoning. It could not point him to whom without more time to check where the students had been assembled from.

Cully and Twitch's search had proven unsuccessful, which meant the killer was carrying his weapons on his person, or had hidden it away from the guests' cottages while they searched.

Who would be the next victim?

Blake had shown that he knew things that the other students had never considered. His training allowed him the ability to do things that would be impossible for normal men, at the high end of what the other fighters could do. He would have to be eliminated outside of a fight. Poison would probably be the weapon of choice.

How it would be delivered was the question. If it failed, the murderer would not get a second chance before the final round.

Blake felt something whir through the air behind him. He waited until the last moment before snatching the projectile out of the air. He turned, dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He hoped it looked convincing as he waited for someone to discover his dead body.

He waited for a second dart. The killer never fired again. Evidently he was sure that he had gotten rid of his only real competition to the title.

Hopefully Blake would be able to lay a trap for his foe with a little effort and some assistance from his aides, and Kung Lao. Then they could lay their hands on their elusive enemy if things went right.

Blake stood inside the door of his cottage. All of the other fighters were engaged in battle in the courtyard ring. He slipped among the guests' cottages with his flash light. It only took a moment to run the light over the rooms.

Hopefully this one search would succeed now that Blake was supposedly out of the way.

He was surprised in which cabin he found the poison. A more thorough search turned up the blow gun tucked in a crack in the wooden floor. There was no doubt what had made that fissure. A small fingerprint edged the top of the hole.

That print matched others spread across the cottage.

Blake retreated in silence, poison in an evidence bag. He needed to make arrangements to try to get a confession from the villain of the piece. He considered possibilities as he avoided the villagers and the beaten students returning to recover from their battles.

Those that could move at all.

Blake easily slipped pass the attendant at Kung Lao's simple house. He waited for the master to return from officiating the day's rounds. He stood still to concentrate on blending in with his environment, taking on a chameleon quality. Anyone looking at him would not notice him as thought about being quiet.

Master Lao returned as the sun set. He noted the change in his cottage as he went to make some tea. He heard a single heart beat as he poured water into his wooden cup. He took a bag of prepared tea from its pot as he stirred the water with his finger. Steam rolled up from the liquid after a few seconds.

"Master Lao," said Blake. "I have found the poison used in one of the cabins. I feel that with some thought we can cause the guilty one to confess to his crime."

"What do you need for this ruse?," Master Lao said, placing his tea in the cup to steep.

The remaining fighters gathered at a set of tables set up by the villagers under Kung Lao's instruction. Women prepared plates of food and placed them before the students as they took their places. Empty cups waited for something to fill them at each student's left hand.

"I must say that each of you have shown much promise and phenomenal skills," said Kung Lao. "Any of you could be a worthy successor as the One. I am pleased at what I have seen so far."

A servant appeared carrying a vase of water and a small bottle. He poured the water in each cup first, then a few drops from the bottle. The water turned pinkish when the contents of the bottle spread through it.

"I hope you enjoy your meal," said Kung Lao. "Tomorrow will be the final round."

The fighters used chopsticks to start eating, and drank the colored water. Some grimaced at the taste. Only one abstained from drinking as he ate slowly, watching the men and women around him.

"Drink, sir," said the servant, lisping slightly. "It is pleasant to the tongue."

"No, thank you," said the fighter. "I am not thirsty."

"Is something wrong, Senor Vega?," Master Lao said, a smile wrinkling his face in a rock in pond way. "You act as if you believe the water is poisoned."

Vega blanched slightly, standing quickly. All of the other fighters stared at him, then at the pink water.

"Yes, the water is poisoned," said Vega. "Everyone who drank it is going to die. It looks like I am going to be the One after all."

"I would not be so sure," said Master Lao, smiling wider. "I am afraid we have played a little trick on you."

"Yes, we have," said the servant, speaking in a clear voice. One hand pulled at his features, ripping rubber and latex away to reveal the regular features of Adam Blake.

Even surprised by the appearance of his supposedly dead victim, Vega reacted in a flickering of motion. The dining table he had been sitting at turned into a deadly spray of wooden shrapnel with a kick. The other students scattered to avoid becoming pincushions as the splinters spread out in a deadly cloud.

Blake stood in front of the cloud. His hands and arms moved so fast they disappeared. Toothpicks dropped to his feet as the edges of the cloud pierced anything not fast enough to get out of its way. He dropped the last needle as calmly as the first.

Vega retreated, bounding like a gazelle toward the lake. He pulled on a wooden mask decorated with a serpent coiling along its featureless front. His long braided hair snapped the air like a whip as he ran.

Blake cut through the crowd, seemingly swimming through the air as he avoided contact with the students as he went. He should have expected some type of flight to avoid whatever punishment Kung Lao would hand out.

Vega sat in a boat he had pushed out in the lake. Powerful rows on the oars pushed him along as fast as a speed boat. He stared at the shore as Blake ran forward without stopping. The investigator stepped on the water, and kept running. His feet dug divots out of the rippling water as he sprinted forward.

Vega redoubled his efforts, breaking his boat apart with the strain. He flung his right-hand oar at Blake as he hit the water on his back. He was not surprised to see an iron hand slice through the length of the thing, dropping the fragments on the water.

Vega dove under the surface of the lake to elude his enemy. He might not have won the Gathering, but there would be more to attend if he could escape his nemesis.

Adam Blake dropped under the water like a rock. He descended quietly, metallic green eyes adjusting to the murky water. His hands cupped the water and propelled him along like a torpedo.

He gripped Vega's wake and pulled himself along faster as the younger man strained against the element instead of using it to fly. The investigator smiled as he smoothly gained on his foe.

Blake grabbed Vega's ankle and yanked the student toward him. Vega's other foot tried to kick him away. Blake used the move to swing his enemy around in the water. He released his hands, driving his opponent into the mud at the bottom of the lake. The masked fighter pulled at the trapping quagmire, freeing himself with his effort.

Blake's hand descended on Vega's decorative mask. The wood split apart, as the force of the blow transferred to the poisoner's head. The Spaniard's green eyes rolled up in the back of his head.

Blake grabbed the back of Vega's neck. He kicked upward. The two men floated upward in a stream of bubbles. The detective pulled the killer on top of the water as he headed back to shore, one hand digging into the water and pulling him to where the others waited at the shore.

The other students grabbed Vega from Blake as he pushed the man on the shore. They held him up, Kung Lao watched from further up the shore.

Twitch Twitchell appeared at Blake's side, offering a hand. Blake walked out of the water, waiting as it beaded down his skin and pooled at his feet. His clothes dried as he and Twitch trailed behind the Gathering as it walked back toward Kung Lao's house.

"Cully wanted to know how does this go with what we saw in Hong Kong," Twitch whispered, aware of the excellent hearing of his hosts.

"It doesn't," said Blake. "Two methods, two men."

Twitch nodded, understanding the comment. He watched the other men present, wondering which one had decapitated his fellow in a fight on a rooftop. Poisoning was vastly different from the photos that he and Cully Morrigan had gone over.

"Which one?," Twitch asked.

"I do not know yet," Blake said.

"Do you have anything to say?," Kung Lao asked, arms folded behind his back. "I cannot remember another case like this in any of our chronicles."

"What are you going to do?," said Vega, bruise darkening under an eye.

"I have no idea," said Kung Lao. "How many have you poisoned to assure a place among your peers? At least one that we know, and one attempt. Assassination is not meant to be a product of our training."

"Just decide and get it over," said Vega. One glance around told him he would have to run a gauntlet to flee this time.

"Master Shih?," Kung Lao. "Do you have any recommendations?"

"We can reduce his ability to use chi so that none of his training will be usable," said Blake. "He will still be a threat to others, but a more manageable threat in my opinion."

"Students?," asked Kung Lao.

Only one opposed the motion. Wolfgang Krauser regarded the poisoner with distaste, hands bunched into fists.

"I say we put this scum to the death," Krauser said. "He does not deserve to live after this disgrace."

"Really?," said Kung Lao. "What makes you conclude that?"

"He obviously learned nothing of the value of combat, facing your enemy," said Krauser. "He deserves to be treated in the same way he treated whomever he has dealt with. He tarnishes everything we stand for."

"That is an extreme reaction, Mr. Krauser," said Blake. "Is this how you felt when you killed Mr. Wang in Hong Kong?"

"He was weak," said Krauser. "I offered him a chance to back away from the Gathering. He refused. It was a fair fight just as he deserved."

"What of his son?," Kung Lao asked. "Did he not deserve his father to return?"

"That is not my problem," Krauser declared.

"You do understand that you have committed a breach in our code?," Kung Lao said. "No student may take another's life except as a last resort outside of the Gathering."

"What are rules to such as us?," said Krauser. "Our abilities make us above any rules."

"I am afraid not," said Blake. "We still have to live by our code and the rule of the law. I see that you have violated that as much as Senor Vega."

"I do not subscribe to that," said Krauser. "I fail to see why I should."

Blake and Kung Lao looked at each other. The arrogance and treachery of these two made them unfit to take over as the supreme teacher of the art. They could not be allowed to continue fighting for that position.

They would both have to be removed.

"A violation is a violation whether you believe in it or not," said Blake. "You cannot continue in the Gathering. Good-bye."

"You cannot deny me," said Krauser. "I will be the One."

"You are denied," said Kung Lao. "Farewell."

"You think I will go that easy?," said Krauser, hand flexing. A sword appeared in that hand like a magician pulling a card out of the air. "None may oppose my wishes."

"WE all do," said a voice in the crowd.

Then the battle began.

Krauser cleared a space with his blade as the fighters closed to take him captive. A grin crossed his face as one of the slower students went down with a fatal wound. He had wanted to win his position in single combat, but killing all of the rest would insure his position.

Vega leaped above the crowd, using heads to leap away from his captors. He landed lightly beyond the crowd, some of which were turning to face him. He dropped in a ready stance, ready to fight for his freedom.

"I think that will be enough," said Richard, stepping in front of Krauser, arms crossed in front of his chest. "You have lost, Krauser. Go home and save yourself some trouble."

"We will see about that," said Krauser, sliding forward, slicing down with the straight blade glowing slightly.

Richard's right arm extended to meet the sword. He held a wooden bowl in the palm of his hand. The makeshift shield forced the weapon aside as Richard stepped into a pivot to bring himself inside Krauser's guard. His left arm flickered out, the edge heading for the other man's face. It was blocked by Krauser's free hand as he turned in place to face his attacker.

An elbow reached for Richard's side as Krauser continued to turn. The red-haired student brought his left arm through its swing to block while swinging the bowl with his other hand. The edge of the wood caught the German's face before he could back out of reach. His head swivelled as he turned with the blow.

Richard did not let him complete his turn. He delivered a kick to the man's spine with brutal force. Krauser crashed through a wall after flying across the yard. Richard cautiously walked over to check on his enemy's condition.

He had heard the snapping of bone and did not believe that Krauser would be going anywhere. He was cautious because he could be wrong, or deceived by the other man's mastery of their training.

To everyone else the fight had only lasted a second and happened so fast, that only Blake and Lao had followed it.

Vega watched Krauser fly through the cottage wall. The student who had defeated him followed slowly. Green flames flickered where his eyes should be.

The Spaniard slowly backed away from the other students. He knew that he was outclassed by some of the other students. That was why he had used venom on those he thought was faster than he was. The only thing he could do now was try to escape again.

Vega backed away toward his cottage. He had something in there that should help him, if it was still there. It might have been overlooked in the search for the poison vial.

It had to still be there.

He vaulted to the top of a nearby cottage. He used that to run across the shingled roofs toward the cabin reserved for him. He heard the steady steps of his fellows in pursuit. Some ran behind him while others ran along the ground. He leaped to the roof of his cabin, punched through it so he could drop inside.

Vega went to the corner facing the lake. Several hand slaps cleared the dirt away from a small wooden door. He dropped inside the small space revealed by lifting the door. On the first night of the Gathering, he had dug a tunnel from his cabin to the lake shore.

It had been a simple precaution in case someone had seen him do his poisoning and confined him to his cabin. Instead he had been caught in the open and captured by Master Blake. Fortunately the obvious search had not led to his escape route.

Vega pulled himself along the tunnel with his hands. He heard footsteps on the ground as he slid along the compacted dirt he had pushed out of his way that first night. Seconds later he was standing on the lake shore, descending slowly in the cold water. Everyone still seemed to be searching the cottages.

He planned to be long gone by the time they realized their mistake.

Epilogue

Cully Morrigan stood on the outskirts of the Chinese village, cigarette burning as he waited. His bag stooped at his feet as he waited for the Chief and Twitch.

He had been stationed near the lake with a rifle in case Vega had escaped from the students. He had spotted the masked fighter for only a second before the man was gone. It wasn't enough time for him to get a shot off. He had also been unable to follow where the man had gone once he was in the water.

Morrigan hurried into the village to report his failure. The students were helping Krauser on a board with a broken spine. Arrangements were made to send him back to Germany by Kung Lao.

The Gathering recommenced with Richard winning first place against the rest of the students. Kung Lao had confirmed Richard as his successor at a small ceremony.

Cully stubbed the smoke out when he saw Blake and Twitch walking toward him. Time to get back to the real world.

Previous Story Next Story Table of Contents Main Page