Chapter Sixteen

 

Blade woke in the freezing cold, and crawled over Kerra's sleeping form into the silver light of the myriad stars that set the night sky ablaze. The Maiden Moon had set long ago, and the only sound was the faint hiss of blowing sand. Myasha perched atop a saddle, his head tucked under his wing. Blade poured a little water into his hands to wash his face, cursing when the moustache came off again. Since he did not intend to be seen, he did not bother to glue it back on. He donned his leather jacket and trousers, glad of their warmth and protection, and checked that all his daggers were in place.

Leaving the girl to sleep, he set off towards the oasis, the soft sand tugging at his boots. Wherever the deep sand gave way to areas of hard, stony ground that the wind had scoured clean, he broke into a trot, following the winding paths between the dunes. His exertion had warmed him by the time he reached the outskirts of the oasis, where the sand swallowed a few crumbling walls and some withered pemra palm trees. Moving like a shadow, he crept along the walls, stopping to peer over them from time to time. A large, ruined keep stood in the centre of the oasis, its walls cracked and crumbling. Blade scanned the buildings for guards, but the ruin seemed abandoned, and he wondered if Kerra had misinterpreted her familiar's message.

Crossing the broad courtyard like a wraith, he reached the keep's doorway and pressed himself to the wall, listening. A faint, distant snore told him that it was inhabited, and its occupants did not expect company. There may not be a guard at all, but he was not taking any chances. He peered around the corner into an empty hall, then slipped within and crept along it, moving with the well-practiced stealth of a master assassin.

Following the sound of snoring, he found a spacious room where five men slept rolled up in blankets on the floor. Weapons and armour were laid out beside each slumbering soldier, and if Myasha was right, there was at least one guard. Two crows roosted on the window ledge, and a snake lay coiled on one man's chest, sharing his warmth.

The other two familiars were too small to see, or not with their human friends. He moved past the door and explored the rest of the hall, peering into several empty rooms and one that contained piles of supplies. Judging by the amount, the soldiers planned quite a long stay. He walked on, passing an empty bathing chamber, its huge sunken pool covered with cracked tiles, its bottom hidden by sand. Beyond it, he found a staircase and ascended it, entering another hall with more empty rooms bordering it.

A soft snore alerted him to the presence of a sentry ahead, and he proceeded more cautiously, staying close to the wall. A huddled shadow resolved itself into a slumped man as he drew closer, and he froze when the soldier shifted and groaned, then settled into a rasping snore. Blade crept closer, pausing beside the man to gauge the depth of his sleep, his hand resting on the hilt of a dagger. Until he knew what they were guarding, there was no reason to kill anyone, and he stepped past the sentry to gaze into the room beyond.

Starlight poured in through a single window, lighting a chamber with rusted chains attached to its walls and a clump of cushions in the middle of the floor. A woman reclined on them, her head resting against the silken flank of a huge sand cat. Raven hair mixed with golden fur, and her pale skin gleamed like ivory. A pang of recognition went through Blade, surprising him with its intensity. He glanced back at the guard, knowing that the man would have to be silenced before he woke the Elder Queen.

Stepping back from the doorway, he turned to the sleeping man and lowered himself to one knee beside him. The sentry wore armour, making his usual method of killing impossible. Before his presence could alarm the man's sleeping mind, he drew a dagger and slit the sentry's throat, jumping back to avoid the blood that spurted from the wound. The man woke with a gurgling gasp, his eyes flew wide and his mouth opened to shout. Only a bubbling hiss issued from it, then his eyes rolled back and he slumped.

Blade listened for the sound of the other soldiers' snoring, but could hear nothing. This chamber was a fair distance from the Cotti's sleeping quarters, and he doubted that they would hear anything less than a shout. Returning to the doorway, he walked down the shallow steps into the chamber, his eyes on the sleeping queen. At his approach, the sand cat woke and sat up, her eyes gleaming in the dimness. Her ears pricked, then she rose and trotted to him, her deep purr filling the chamber as she rubbed against his legs. Blade bent to stroke her tawny fur, smiling. Shista had always liked him, and, being cat kin, he enjoyed her affection.

The woman on the cushions stirred, groped for the absent cat and turned to look for her. She sat up in alarm, the shackles that bound her wrists to a ring in the floor clinking.

"Who are you?"

Blade recognised the haughty tones of Minna's most regal manner, and his smile widened. Shista rubbed herself against him hard enough to make him stagger, and the Queen stared at the cat in amazement. Realising that he stood in the shadows and still wore the blond wig, he reached up and peeled it off, wincing as the glue pulled at his skin. Minna stared up at him, and he stepped out of the shadows.

"Blade?"

Her voice shook with unadulterated joy, and she gasped, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. Blade walked up to her and fell to one knee, bowing his head.

"My Queen."

"Blade." Minna stared at him as if he was a ghost, then reached out to touch him with cold, thin hands.

"Yes."

Tears overflowed to stream down her cheeks. "You are not a dream."

"No."

With a sob, she buried her face in her hands, hiding her tears as she strived to regain control of her emotions. Blade looked away, not wishing to witness the Queen's loss of composure, and Shista threw herself down next to him and rolled onto her back, her purr a steady rumble. His knee ached, and he sat back on his haunches to relieve it while he waited. From her gaunt, ragged appearance, Minna had been ill-treated, and he knew from experience what that was like. Minna raised her head, brushed the wetness from her cheeks and took a deep breath.

"It is you. It is really you."

"Yes."

She drew a shuddering breath. "How did you find me?"

"Pure chance."

"Did Kerrion send you?"

His lip curled. "I do not work for Cotti. Shamsara did."

Minna-Satu lifted a hand and stroked his cheek, meeting his cold gaze with eyes that shone with affection and gratitude. She wore only a length of cloth wrapped around her chest and knotted in the front, but despite this, she held herself proudly, looking no less a queen than she had in her golden mail and jewels. Brushing her tangled hair back, she stroked the rumbling cat who flopped down in front of her, demanding attention. He waited while she regained her composure, noticing the shivers she strived to hide. Remembering the blankets in the supply room downstairs, he started to get up, but she grabbed his hand.

"Do not go."

"You need a blanket."

She forced a brittle smile. "I need a great many things, Blade. Freedom would be higher on my list of priorities than a blanket."

"I will free you, never fear." He glanced at the shackles on her wrists. "Do you know where the key is?"

"Trelath has it."

"Then let me fetch you a blanket."

"Have you killed the guards?"

"Only one."

Her eyes widened in alarm. "You must. Now, while they sleep."

"I am no longer an assassin, Minna. I cannot kill them in cold blood. The one I have slain was a threat."

"You are retired?" She shook her head. "Of course you are, it has been fifteen years. But you must. If they should overcome you I could not bear it. How can I persuade you?"

Blade pulled a thin metal tool from his belt and inserted it into the shackles' lock, frowning with concentration. The lock was old and worn, making his job difficult as the pick slipped off the tumblers inside.

"I need you, Blade, now more than ever," Minna went on. "You must renounce your retirement, if that is what is required. I have much work for you."

Blade recalled his conversation with Shamsara, and the Idol's instruction that he should obey the Queen. "I have not worked for fifteen years. I may not be as good as I was."

She studied him. "If my eyes do not deceive me, it appears as if you have not aged at all. Chiana told Kerrion how you saved our daughter and were saved in turn by Shamsara. He gave you a great gift."

He snorted, digging at the lock with unnecessary vigour. "A curse, more like it."

"To me it is a gift that you are still alive, or I would surely have perished here."

"You do not think Kerrion would have found you?"

"He searches diligently, I am sure, but Trelath is cunning, and knows his brother well. Doubtless I am in a place that Kerrion will not think of searching until it is too late. I do not know what was demanded of him or why Trelath's plans have been delayed, but if not for that, I would be dead already."

Blade twisted the pick. "Trelath and Endor demanded that Kerrion allow Endor to take Kerra hostage and rule Jashimari. Kerrion instructed Chiana to hide the girl, and she begged me to take her away."

"And you did?"

"Yes."

Minna watched him struggle with the lock. "So that is what has delayed their plans. Is she with you?"

"At a camp in the desert."

"So, soon she will know my secret."

"You do not have to tell her who you are." The shackle fell open with a clink, and Minna sighed, rubbing her wrist.

"She is old enough to know the truth, and I could not pretend to be a low bred woman."

He smiled and started on the other shackle, trying to imagine the Elder Queen acting like a commoner. "You did when you seduced Kerrion."

"That was for a few time-glasses, and it was necessary. What is she like?"

"She has improved since she has been with me, but she is still proud." The second shackle fell open with a rattle.

"As she should be." Minna-Satu stroked his cheek again with a cold hand. "How can I ever repay you for this service you do me now? I have no more titles to confer, nor do you require more payment. You are already a rich man."

"I require no payment from you, My Queen."

Her brows rose. "I did not think you would do this for nothing."

"I am not. Chiana has promised to order the deaths of the Cotti princes who plotted this, in return for keeping Kerra away from Endor. Your freedom was purchased by Shamsara."

"Indeed? And what payment does he offer the man who has everything?"

Blade hesitated, tucking the lock pick back into the tiny pocket in his belt. "I would rather not say, but it is a considerable one."

"As it should be. Very well, I shall not pry. Will you kill the guards now?"

The assassin sighed, then pulled open his collar and peeled off the piece of leather that was glued over his mark. The Guild's laws forbade him to perform an assassination without the tattoo being visible, so, if he was killed, the mark would proclaim him a guild assassin and not an imposter.

The red teardrop tattoo beneath it proclaimed his retirement, and could not be left exposed. By rights, it should be removed before he plied his trade again, although there were no rules that stated this, since no assassin had ever come out of retirement before. Since he had no way of removing it, he contented himself with sticking the leather patch over the teardrop tattoo.

Minna-Satu watched him refasten his collar with eyes dark with sorrow. "I am loath to send you into danger again, my lord, but I must. When they awaken, they will try to kill you, and my daughter will be in danger too. I cannot take that risk. It is safer to dispatch them now. Once again, you will be my blade, my hand of death reaching out to slay my enemies, and those who know you will fear my wrath once more."

He smiled. "I had forgotten your penchant for inspiring little speeches, My Queen."

"But I have not forgotten your lack of manners, my lord. I speak only the truth."

"Fear not, five sleeping soldiers are hardly a challenge to me."

She smiled. "Nor have I forgotten your arrogance."

"I only speak the truth. An assassin who lacks confidence in his skills is a dead one."

She inclined her head. "I do not cast aspersions upon your considerable skills, Blade. Only your penchant for bragging about them."

"An assassin who fails to brag about his prowess finds little work."

"You have no need to brag."

He stood up. "I will return shortly, with a blanket for you."

"Be careful."

Blade headed for the door, pondering the task ahead. Even after fifteen years, he found that the prospect of killing sleeping men did not bother him, as it had not when he had plied his trade. The fact that his victims were Cotti made it even easier. As he walked along the corridor, he considered his new status, finding the renouncement of his retirement strangely uplifting. When he had retired, he had been overcome with depression, his purpose lost with his trade and his Dance Master's belt.

Now he was an assassin once more, licensed to kill by his guild tattoo, his client a Jashimari queen. He was the Queen's Blade. The prospect of killing a Cotti prince cheered him, and as soon as he was able, he would remove the mark of his retirement. Then no one could question the legality of his actions, otherwise his guild would take a dim view of his returning to his trade. By rights, he should announce it to the other elders first, but they were a long way away.

Reaching the room that housed the snoring soldiers, he paused to gather his thoughts and prepare himself. The familiar tingles of excitement went through him, reminding him of the many assassinations he had performed in the past. The killing did not excite him, it was the thrill of the stealthy approach with its danger of discovery and death that made his heart pound. He doubted that he would be able to kill all of them while they slept. Some would wake before the task was complete.

The missing familiars bothered him. He liked to know what beasts he faced, since the sudden appearance of a wolf or dog would be dangerous. Stepping into the room, he stood against the wall and surveyed his victims. The crows still slept on the window ledge, and the snake remained curled up on its friend's chest. He tried to see what kind it was, but in the darkness it appeared black. A venomous snake was a grave danger, and if he killed it first, its companion would wake, though only briefly, but long enough to rouse the others with a shout. Whereas snakes made little sound, the crows would make a ruckus when their friends died. The other two men might have venomous scorpions or spiders as dangerous as the snake, and hidden.

Making his decision, he moved towards the nearest man, who had no visible familiar. The soldier lay on his side, his hands tucked under his head, exposing his flank. Blade squatted beside him and drew a dagger, positioning it in exactly the right place to pierce the heart. Without hesitation, he thrust the blade in, sensing it grate against bone and slip through soft lung before it hit the throbbing heart. The man stiffened and drew in a ragged gasp as his heart stopped beating, his eyes opening to stare ahead. He remained like that for a couple of seconds, then his eyes rolled back and he slumped, the air leaving his lungs in a soft sigh.

Blade pulled out the dagger and looked at his next victim, who lay tangled in his blankets, snoring. He rested on his stomach, his arms raised and his hands tucked under the bag that he used for a pillow. The assassin went over to him and squatted down, glancing around for a familiar. Finding none, he positioned the dagger next to the man's ribs on the left side and drove it in quick and hard. Once again it slid past bone and through lung tissue, penetrating the heart. The Cotti twitched, then sighed and went still.

Blade stepped back as a black scorpion tumbled from the soldier's clothes and scuttled towards him, squashing it with his boot before he turned to the next man. This one's beaky nose made him suspect that his familiar was one of the crows, so he moved to the next soldier. He was the man of snakes, and the serpent raised its head at his approach, its tongue flicking out to taste the air. The prospect of being bitten made him wary of putting his hands within the reptile's reach, and he crouched next to the man's head. Putting down the dagger, he gripped the Cotti's throat and squeezed. The man's eyes opened, and he gasped, starting to writhe, then slumped.

The snake slithered towards Blade, and he moved away, approaching the man nearest the wall. He lay on his back, and also looked like a man of crows, but it made no difference which of the remaining two he killed now. The soldier's arms were at his sides, protecting his flanks, and Blade poised the dagger over the man's chest. This was a less favoured method, and one with which he had less experience, to say nothing of being out of practice. He hesitated, then drove the dagger in as hard as he could.

Immediately he knew that he had missed the heart, and yanked the weapon out as the man jerked awake, drawing breath to shout. Blade slashed his throat as he yelled, cutting off the cry and reducing it to a gurgle. The soldier thrashed, thrusting Blade away with a flailing arm as blood pumped from his jugular. One of the crows fluttered from the ledge with a harsh cry, waking its companion, which cawed a warning. The remaining soldier sat up and looked around in confusion.

Blade left the dying man and strode across to the last Cotti, who scrambled away, groping for his sword. The assassin reached him before he found it, but he raised his arms and shouted for his comrades to help him. He swung his fists at Blade, keeping the assassin at bay. Blade stepped back and waited for an opportunity to throw the dagger, unwilling to enter into a struggle with the big Cotti.

The man held his arms in front of his chest and glanced around at his companions, calling their names. When none of them responded, he turned to pick up his sword, exposing his flank. Blade threw the dagger, which hit the Cotti in the side and made him whip around. He fell with a grunt, trying to pluck the weapon from his ribs. Blade drew a second dagger and threw it, hitting him in the chest. The man writhed and cursed, trying to crawl away.

The second crow launched itself from the windowsill and flew at Blade with a harsh cry, almost blind in the darkness. He ducked and smacked it from the air, sending it crashing to the ground, a limp bundle of black feathers. The soldier cried out as he shared the pain of his familiar's death, and Blade walked up to him and slit his throat, jumping back to avoid the blood. Warm droplets splattered his face, and he swore, wiping it off on his sleeve. The first crow cawed, perched atop the body of its dead friend, plucking at his clothes in an effort to rouse him.

Blade turned to the unconscious snake man, whose familiar, now fully aroused, had reared up and spread a hood. With such a deadly familiar, the soldier was undoubtedly the leader of this troop. As he approached it, the snake turned to face him, hissing. Moving within striking range, he waved a hand, offering it a target. The serpent accepted the target and focussed on it. It swayed, following the movement of his hand, and he waited, tense as a coiled spring, for it to strike.

Once, he would have been confident of being faster than a striking snake, now an element of doubt made his heart beat faster. The snake struck in a blur, and Blade snatched his hand away, grabbing the cobra behind its head with his other hand in a motion too quick for the eye to follow. With a deft twist, he broke its spine and tossed it on the floor, where it writhed and coiled in the sand.

Turning his attention to its companion, he despatched the man and stood up to survey the room and its dead occupants. A bubble of pride rose and burst within him, filling him with warm satisfaction that made him smile. Even after fifteen years, he had only woken one of the soldiers, and had killed them all without serious mishap and no injury to himself. It seemed that he had not lost his touch.

After cleaning his daggers on one of the soldiers' tabards, he sheathed them and turned to the door. The sand cat sat in it, watching him. At his approach, she purred, then rose to rub against his legs.

"So, did Minna think I might need some help, Shista?" he asked as he bent to stroke the golden feline. "I am not sure whether to be insulted, or flattered by her concern."

Blade left the room, wishing that it had a door he could close to hide its grisly contents, and headed for the supply room. Collecting an armful of blankets, a bundle of wood and some food and wine, he returned to the Queen's room. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps and smiled with ill-disguised relief. Draping the blankets over her, he set up the wood for a fire and lighted it with a purloined tinderbox that seemed to work better than his, then set a pot of water on to boil. The Elder Queen looked like she needed a good hot meal more than a blanket. She watched him, swallowing when he dropped strips of bacon in a pan to fry.

 

To distract herself from the food's aroma, Minna asked, "Did it bother you to kill those men?"

He shot her a surprised look. "Why should it?"

"You have not assassinated anyone for fifteen years."

He shrugged. "It is like riding a horse. And I did not require Shista's aid."

"I did not think you would. I only sent her to observe."

The assassin smiled. "Of course."

"How is Chiana?"

His smile vanished. "Endor has tortured her."

The Queen's heart filled with sorrow and anger. "They will pay, I promise."

"Kerrion will do nothing, but Chiana will order their deaths and my former apprentice will assassinate them. That was my price for taking Kerra with me."

"Kerrion cannot kill them." Minna frowned at the fire. "Else he would, I know it. Speaking of my daughter, will you not go and fetch her now?"

He glanced at the dark windows. "She is sleeping. There is no need to wake her yet."

"You seem to care for her."

"No, I just do not want to walk all that way in the freezing cold."

She smiled. "You have not changed, my lord."

"I have had no reason to. Little about my life has changed." He poked the bacon. "Will Trelath return here soon?"

"No. He was here a few days ago. We must set out for Jadaya tomorrow."

He glanced at her. "Is that wise? You are weak. You need a few days of good food to restore your strength. Also, Jadaya will be dangerous for me. If I am found, even Kerrion could not prevent my execution."

"Oh, I think he could. For rescuing me, he could have you pardoned."

"Under Cotti law, your kidnap was not an offence."

She glared at the flames. "Then we must make it possible for him to change the laws."

"How?"

"He needs the support of his brothers."

"That, he will never have."

She considered the assassin, and the possibilities his presence offered. "Unless they feared for their lives."

"Even if they believed me capable of killing them all, which I doubt, they would not allow themselves to be blackmailed."

"Why not?"

"If Kerrion threatens them, he is guilty of treason. If you do it, they will accuse you of plotting to murder them, which is even worse. You no longer have the immunity of being the Jashimari Queen. You are only his wife in their eyes and in the eyes of the Cotti courts. Only Kerra could do it, but it would put her in grave danger."

"Kerrion can protect her."

Blade poked the sizzling bacon and added some journey bread to soak up the fat. "I put little faith in Kerrion's ability to do that. His brothers almost killed you while you were under his protection, and they succeeded in kidnapping you. If Kerra is captured or killed, it will throw Jashimari into anarchy and civil war. Chiana is only a regent, she cannot rule without a prospective queen, at the least. I was dragged into this mess to prevent that from happening, and although I do not care if it does, I do not wish to see my efforts wasted."

Minna shook her head. "Nothing will happen to Kerra, but if it did, I would return to rule Jashimari."

"Leave Kerrion?"

She nodded. "And my sons."

"But you have no heir."

"I will pass my crown to my first born granddaughter."

He poked the bacon. "A three-quarter Cotti."

"No. I will arrange a marriage for my eldest son with a Jashimari girl."

"I see."

"Kerra will return to rule Jashimari when this is all over."

Blade used the journey bread to scoop up the bacon and rolled it into a sandwich, which he offered to the Queen. Minna strived to hide her hunger as she took it and ate with dainty bites. Blade sprinkled tea leaves into the bubbling water to make the tea she liked so much, and waited for it to brew, then poured a cup and added sugar. It surprised her to see the assassin engaged in such acts of domesticity, and quite obvious, from the burnt bacon, that he had no skill at it. Since she had no idea how to cook, she could not advise him, and what he produced, although black and crunchy, tasted delicious after a moon of stale bread and dirty water.

 

When Minna-Satu had consumed a bacon sandwich, Blade gave her tea, which she drank with a smile. Queens did not often extend thanks to their minions, and, although he was not a servant, his courtesy was accepted with only regal smiles. This did not bother him unduly, since the Elder Jashimari Queen was one of the few people for whom he had any respect. When she finished the tea, he gave her another bacon sandwich.

While she ate, he pulled open his collar and peeled off the leather patch, revealing the mark of his retirement. "If I am to perform assassinations, I must remove this mark. When we get to Jadaya, I must find a tattooist."

"I am certain that there are plenty in the capital. I shall see to it that one is brought to you."

Blade nodded and glanced at the windows, which dawn's first cold glow filled. Soon the desert would become a furnace. Before that happened, he must fetch Kerra and bring her to meet her mother, then he could rest in the shade for the remainder of the day. He rose and bowed to the Queen.

"I shall fetch Kerra now, before it grows hot."

"Yes, good." Minna wiped a drop of bacon fat from her chin.

Blade retraced his steps to the door through which he had entered the keep. The sun rose swiftly in the desert, and the first rays slanted across the sand when he walked into the courtyard. A startled oath made him spin around and drop into a crouch, yanking the daggers from his belt. Six armoured Cotti soldiers faced him, drawing their swords. Blade cursed.

Apparently the soldiers had been split into two shifts, and these had been hidden around the oasis, on guard duty. He had killed the day shift, and now the night-watchmen had returned from their vigil. The surfeit of supplies had not been for a long stay, but for twice as many men, who would share the blankets with the day shift, so there had been no empty bedrolls to give away their presence. He must have crept right past them in the dark, probably because they had been sleeping, or at least lying down.

The leader, a tall man with a brown wolf at his side, glared at Blade with yellow eyes as fierce as his familiar's. Another had a crow perched on his shoulder, and a third carried a fork-tailed kestrel on his wrist. The other three seemed to have no beasts with them, but they were probably harbouring insects or small animals. The leader turned his head and spat on the sand.

"So, a Jashimari with a tan, it seems. What are you doing here, and where are my men?"

Blade relaxed, straightening from his crouch. If the leader wanted to talk, all the better. "They're inside, having breakfast. I was just passing through, and got lost."

The Cotti's eyes narrowed. "Really? And they just let you walk around unattended?"

Blade shrugged. "Why not? They were good enough to offer me water and a map. I was just leaving."

"On foot?"

"No, I have horses tethered around the side."

"Funny, we didn't see any."

Blade smiled. "Well, you didn't see me come in, either. Perhaps you were asleep."

The leader glanced at his men, unable to refute this. He frowned, his eyes raking the assassin. "What are you doing in the desert?"

"Exploring. It's a strange country you have, so hot and dry."

"You don't appear to be dressed for it."

Blade glanced down at his leather clothes. "I have a jelabah, but it's cold at night."

The leader looked unconvinced, and turned to the man beside him. "Go and find Brendal, and you go find his horses."

Two men trotted off, which suited Blade. Now all he had to do was kill the four who remained before they returned. He noticed two of the men moving behind him, and no one had put away their swords. Clearly they did not trust him, and the leader was no fool. His next words confirmed this.

"You're dressed like an assassin, Jashimari, and even if I believed your story, we can't let you go."

"Why not?" Blade feigned innocence, taking a step towards the Cotti. The soldiers' armour cut down his target area to their throats and eyes, reducing his chances of success. Having decreased their numbers from six to four, he had to make his move soon, or he would lose this slight advantage. The Cotti seemed relaxed, confident of their superiority in numbers, which also worked in his favour. He strained to sense the men behind him, but they seemed to be quite far away still, and he moved closer to the leader. The man eyed the daggers Blade held, his expression growing more suspicious.

"Because you're probably a spy," he said. "And I don't believe that Brendal let you go."

"You think I killed him? And five soldiers?"

"They would have been asleep."

"Yes, they were, but I'm not a murderer."

The leader's lip curled. "All Jashimari are murdering swine."

"Really?"

Blade lifted his hands, preparing to throw a dagger at the Cotti's throat. The wolf charged with a snarl, taking him by surprise. It leapt for his arm, its teeth snapping together a hair's breadth from his wrist as he spun away. He slashed at it with the other dagger, opening a gash in its flank, but it lunged for his legs, forcing him to leap aside. Its speed rivalled his, and the soldiers charged him at the same time, compelling him to divide his attention. He threw a dagger at the leader as the man bore down on him, striving to avoid the wolf's snapping teeth at the same time.

The dagger impaled the leader through the throat, sending him crashing to the sand. The wolf had just succeeded in sinking its teeth into Blade's leg, and released him with an anguished howl. The second charging man reached him, and Blade slashed his throat as he spun away to avoid the scything sword aimed at his ribs. The Cotti fell, spouting blood, and a weapon glanced off Blade's chain mail. He swung to face the last two, but they were upon him, and a blow to his head robbed him of his senses.