Chapter Twenty Two

 

The bandits struck camp in the afternoon, and allowed the queens to ride their horses, but a bandit led Blade's beast. They travelled north until dusk, then set up a new camp and lighted fires. A pair of bandits took Blade to Asrah's tent and shoved him inside, leaving Kerra and Minna to pitch their tent.

Asrah turned as he entered, her eyes raking him. She had donned a flowing skirt of silky material, and her hair fell loose about her shoulders. Blade hid a smile as she gestured to a cushion and sank down on one herself. He sat, pushing up the loose sleeves of his jelabah, which he still wore, since his vest was now a rag. His action exposed the empty wrist sheaths, and Asrah's eyes were drawn to them.

"An unarmed assassin is like a snake without fangs, I suppose."

He shrugged. "It makes me a little uneasy."

"But you must understand that I can't trust you."

"I do, but keeping me unarmed doesn't make me harmless."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm aware of that, which is why you must wear these."

Asrah picked up a set of shackles and threw them in front of him. He glanced at them, then frowned at her.

"This is an insult."

"It's a precaution. I don't want you trying to escape. My men would like an excuse to kill you. Since you're unarmed, they may succeed."

"I'm not going to try to escape. We have a bargain."

She shook her head. "I don't trust you, any more than you trust me, and, as you've just pointed out, you're deadly even without your daggers."

"If I was alone, you would have reason to fear me, but I will not risk the lives of my charges."

"They mean nothing to you. If you abandoned them, you would only lose part of your payment. I'm sure your employer would understand when you told him that bandits ambushed you and stole the women. Without them, you could easily sneak out of this camp, even with the guards. But with those on you won't get far, especially without your disguise."

He stretched his legs out before him, crossed them and allowed his jelabah to slide off one shoulder. "And you would like to see me wearing them. Strange, for a woman who was born a slave."

She smiled, her eyes flitting over him. "I never wore shackles."

"I did."

She turned and poured two cups of wine, handing one to him. "I'm not the one who wants to see you wearing them. My men harbour a grudge against you for the death of their comrades, and your defeat of Imbar."

"And you think these will make me safe from them?"

"It will help to mollify them."

Blade sipped his wine, eyeing her. Clearly she found him attractive, a situation he had been in many times, and it suited his purpose to encourage her. She had evidently not noted the significance of his lack of beard, or perhaps thought that he shaved extremely well, even though he would have had no opportunity to do so since his capture. He had found that women saw what they wanted, and those who found him handsome ignored his strangeness.

To keep the atmosphere cordial, he asked for information about her father that he would need for the assassination. She provided it while they sipped wine and ate a watery stew that a scowling bandit served. She told him that her father was a rich merchant who lived in a town a tenday's ride to the north, and he was a man of dogs. His familiar was a large male hound of a particularly vicious nature, and he kept a dozen dogs on his estate. This did not please Blade, who had found that dog men were particularly troublesome, due to the loyal and dangerous nature of their beasts.

Most familiars spent time apart from their friends, or were not as formidable, but dogs stayed close to their human companions at all times, even sleeping on their master's beds. Asrah said that her father's name was Zendil, and he kept a dozen concubines as well as three wives. Although he was in his fifties, he was robust and healthy, visiting brothels and taprooms regularly to sample their wares. He kept his estate well-guarded, yet when he went into the city, he took only a pair of bodyguards and his familiar.

By the time the meal was over, and Asrah's description finished, Blade found it hard to hide his yawns. He informed her that he wished to go and sleep, and rose to his feet. She picked up the shackles and stood, holding them out.

"I suppose you think I'm going to let you put those on me?" he enquired.

"No, you're going to put them on, and if you refuse, one shout from me will bring a dozen men in here within a moment."

He stepped closer, a faint smile curling his lips when she retreated. "You're afraid of me. Is that the real reason you would have me wear those?"

Her eyes glinted. "Only a fool would not fear you, and I'm not one."

"Obviously. But my wearing those won't make you safe, if I choose to kill you."

Asrah pulled one of the assassin's daggers from her belt, and held out the shackles. "Put them on."

Blade's smile widened, making her catch her breath in a little, well-hidden gasp. He tilted his head to increase the power of his allure, a skill gleaned from years of practising it on his unsuspecting victims in his female disguise. It worked just as well on women, he knew, and her eyes darkened with desire.

"I'm not a murderer," he murmured in a soft, husky voice. "You're perfectly safe, I assure you. There's is no need to bind me."

Asrah stood frozen, her eyes riveted to his mouth. He guessed that she was probably wondering what it would be like to kiss him, and lie in his arms. Perhaps she contemplated what his lips would taste like, and what skills he had at love making. All evening, he had cast his spell on her with graceful gestures, ensuring that the lamplight enhanced his features and made his eyes shine. He hoped that his reassuring words would drain the last of her resistance, when combined with the electric danger of his presence. He had noticed a long time ago how women shivered when he was close to them and longed for his touch. Chiana was one such. He stepped closer, until the dagger point was pressed against his chest, and she pulled it away, clearly afraid of hurting him. Raising his hands, he caressed her cheeks with a feather-light touch, and she shivered, swallowing.

He leant closer to whisper, "You're too beautiful to want to chain me."

The shackles fell to the floor with a clink, and she placed her hand against his chest, where she would feel his heart throb beneath the layers of muscle and bone. He had always found women easy to charm, although he did not really understand the reason for it. He allowed his seductive smile to widen further, and she swayed as his magnetism drew her to him. His hands fell to her throat, making her breath catch again. Her eyes roamed over his face, lingering on his lips, clearly captivated by his lamplight-gilded features. She had probably known many lovers, but he doubted that any had robbed her of her will and filled her with desire as he knew he was doing.

"Asrah," he whispered. "You don't want to put chains on me."

Her hand crept up to his shoulder, and she pulled him closer, her lips parted. She raised her eyes to meet his and recoiled, pushed him away and stumbled back, the dagger clutched before her.

"You are lying!"

He tilted his head. "Am I?"

"Your words are honeyed, but your eyes are cold."

"A trick of the light, I assure you. It's the colour."

"No." She shuddered. "You're trying to seduce me, and it almost worked."

"I'm in earnest."

"You thought you could charm me, and make me forget about the shackles." She glared at him. "Well, it won't work. Put them on."

"I would rather not."

"I don't care what you would rather. Put them on, or I will have my men do it for you. Doubtless they'll take the opportunity to give you a few more bruises."

His smile faded. "I could have killed you a moment ago, if I had wanted."

"If you had, my men would have avenged me, and you know it. Doubtless you have charmed many women like that, but it won't work on me. Put on the chains, or I call my men."

Blade frowned and turned away to hide his anger, then picked up the shackles and placed them around his wrists, snapping them closed. A chain the length of his forearm linked the steel bracelets, restricting his movement without making him helpless. Asrah put away the dagger and gazed at him with eyes still dark with desire despite her disillusionment, her expression keenly disappointed.

"Are you satisfied now?" he asked.

"Yes. If you remove them, I'll have you whipped."

Blade left the tent, afraid that if he lingered, his anger would get the better of him. The guards watched him march across the camp and push his way inside the little tent. The queens sat at the back, talking, but fell silent when he came in and flopped down on his bedroll.

Minna asked, "Whatever is the matter, My Lord?"

Blade glanced at her and snorted, muttering a curse under his breath. "I failed to persuade Asrah not to put these on me." He held up his shackled wrists, and her eyes widened. Kerra gasped and opened her mouth, but Minna raised an imperious hand.

"You are not accustomed to failure, I would wager."

"No."

"Asrah is a hard woman. She has suffered much. The situation may still be remedied, however. Perhaps I can offer some advice, since she too is a woman of cats. What did you say to her?"

He looked away. "It is not so much what I said."

Her brows shot up, and she smiled. "Indeed? You tried to charm her? I am surprised, My Lord. I thought you despised such things."

"I do, unless I can use them to my advantage."

"And she saw through your lie."

"Yes." He frowned at her, disgruntled. "I am unaccustomed to such things."

"Naturally, you have never practiced your wiles blatantly, I suspect."

"Not on a woman."

Kerra looked puzzled, and Minna remarked, "Women are more perceptive, My Lord. I would say that she saw your deception in your eyes."

"So it would seem."

"It is a pity you tried to deceive her. You would have had more success if you had simply refused and walked away."

"She threatened to have her men do it."

Minna shook her head. "I doubt that she would. They may have hurt you, and from the concern I saw in her face when you fought Imbar, I do not think she would have risked it. She has already fallen foul of your charms, Blade, as have so many others."

"I had done nothing to soften her heart."

"You do not have to. You have only to be yourself, and smile, to win the heart of any woman you choose."

"So her threat to flog me if I remove these is an empty one?"

"Not anymore. Now that you have angered her, she may do it."

Blade grunted and lay back on his bedroll, glaring at the leather roof.

Kerra asked, "But how could you charm her? Surely she can see what you are?"

He turned his head to look at her. "And what might that be?"

"You know..."

"An assassin?"

"No."

"Then what? Is it a dirty word you cannot speak?"

She shook her head, her cheeks reddening. "A eunuch."

"Ah. One of those. I am not insulted by the term, Kerra. I have been called much worse. Apparently she has not realised what I am. Some people are not very observant, and to others it makes no difference."

"Chiana did not notice," Minna observed.

Kerra looked horrified. "You mean, when they were married..."

Blade chuckled, and Minna said, "Oh no, I told her long before then."

"You noticed," Blade muttered.

"Almost immediately," she agreed. "Yet it made no difference to me or Chiana."

"You, My Queen?"

"Yes, even I am not immune to your charms, My Lord. Nor am I ashamed to admit it."

The assassin smiled, gazing at the tent roof. "I am flattered."

"You are conceited. You use your charms unconsciously, and you should keep it that way. It is more effective. Do not attempt to beguile Asrah again with your clumsy wiles, you will only anger her."

He shrugged. "That suits me."

 

For the next two days, the bandits continued north at a steady pace, camping each night in the lee of dunes. They carried ample supplies on a string of packhorses, but on the third day three men left with empty packhorses and returned with fresh food and water from a nearby town. Although Asrah avoided Blade, he caught her watching him on several occasions. The shackles were little more than an annoyance, but the men seemed to enjoy seeing him wear them, judging by their smirks.

Imbar recovered, although he had a swollen, bruised face and a broken nose. He glared at the assassin whenever possible, making Blade suspect that he intended to seek further retribution. The queens became uneasy, unnerved by the bandits' bold stares and leers, which neither of them had experienced before. Blade dreaded the day when he might be forced to intervene in some lecherous attack, a prospect that he found distasteful.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, shortly after the bandits had made camp, Blade sat outside the tent, guarding Minna's privacy while she washed in a bowl of water.

They had all mastered the art of bathing in a cup of water, using a damp cloth to wipe off the grime and sweat. The women were used to luxurious baths with hot water and soap, but Blade's fastidiousness had long ago made him make do with much less, though never quite so little. Kerra's scream brought him to his feet in a bound, and he ran towards the sound. The young Queen struggled in the strong arms of a strapping, chuckling blond bandit. Blade stopped a few paces away, unsure of what to do.

"Let her go," he growled.

The bandit looked up, and Kerra shouted, "Blade! Help me!"

Blade walked closer as several more men ran up. "I said let her go."

The bandit sneered, "Make me, assassin."

Blade closed the gap between them in a few strides. As he had hoped, the man thrust Kerra away to free his hands. The girl stumbled to Blade and stood behind him, clinging to his arm. Blade found his new role as protector unpleasant as well as novel, and tried to back away. Kerra hampered him, and the bandit followed, his eyes alight with hatred. The assassin jerked his arm from Kerra's grip and stepped away from her as the young man lunged at him. He swayed aside, allowing the bandit's fist to skim past his cheek, then swung around and whipped the chain that linked his wrists around the man's throat, yanking it tight.

The bandit clawed at the chain, swinging around to try to dislodge the assassin, but Blade hung on, keeping the chain tight. The man choked and coughed, jabbing an elbow at Blade's ribs, which he avoided. He raised a knee and jammed it into the small of the man's back, forcing him to his knees. The young bandit's face reddened and his eyes bulged, then Blade was forced to release him as three more men attacked. He swung around and hit the nearest in the face with the chain. The man staggered aside, clutching his cheek.

Blade dropped to elude the next man's charged, slammed his shoulder into the bandit's belly and threw him over his back. The last man drew a dagger and lunged at the assassin, forcing him to leap aside as the weapon slashed his chest. He grabbed the man's wrist and used his momentum to swing him around, twisting his arm until the tendons cracked. The bandit howled and dropped the dagger. Blade released him and scooped up the weapon.

"Stop!" Asrah's command halted another two men, who headed for Blade, intent on joining the fray.

Blade glanced around at his foes. The youngster sat rubbing his throat and coughing, the man with the lacerated cheek mopped the blood from his face, and the one with the twisted arm nursed it against his chest. The man Blade had thrown over his shoulder appeared unharmed, and glared at him.

Asrah strode up to him and held out her hand for the dagger. With a sigh, he gave it to her, and she turned to face her men.

"What sort of men are you, to attack an unarmed man?"

They muttered, and one man shouted, "He was throttling Balt!"

Asrah turned to Blade. "Were you?"

"Yes. He attacked Kestra."

Asrah glanced at the girl, who was trying to tidy her tangled hair. "Attacked? Do you mean he was flirting with her?"

"No, I mean he grabbed her, and she was frightened."

"And for that, you were going to kill him?"

"No. I would have released him when he was subdued."

Asrah looked down at the blood-smeared dagger he had given her, then walked over to the man with the bloody cheek.

"How did this happen?"

"He hit me with the damned chain," the bandit growled.

Asrah glanced at the other three men who had attacked the assassin, and, finding them innocent of blood, strode back to Blade. Pulling open his jelabah, she exposed the gash on his chest, and her eyes snapped up to his face.

"Who did this?"

He shrugged. "The one who gave me the dagger."

Asrah turned to glare at the man with the injured arm. "Jeran! You disgust me, all of you! Three of you against an unarmed man, and you not only fail, he takes your weapon. And he's wearing shackles!"

The men mumbled and shuffled their feet, avoiding her eyes as she raked them with a scornful glance. Several onlookers had already slipped away, leaving the guilty ones to face their leader's ire alone.

Asrah tossed the dagger to Jeran. "No one touches him in future, unless I say so. He's no good to me if he's injured, you morons." She swung to face Blade. "You, come with me. I'll clean that cut."

Blade followed Asrah to her tent, and Minna led Kerra away. Inside, he sat on a cushion while she rummaged in a bag, producing a vial and a cloth. She sat before him and parted his jelabah to inspect the cut again, then poured a little brown fluid onto the cloth. He gazed out of the door, maintaining an air of icy indifference until she dabbed the medicine onto his wound, then he recoiled with a hiss.

"What vile stuff is that?"

"It's good for wounds." She studied his twisted face. "Surely you aren't afraid of a little pain?"

"I have no liking for it."

"So it seems." She smiled and dabbed more of the stinging fluid on the cut, and he raised his hands to ward her off.

"Enough. It will heal without that."

Asrah chuckled. "So, you do have a weakness. I was beginning to think you were made of ice. I didn't think you would be afraid of a little stinging ointment."

"It hardly hurt until you put that stuff on it."

She sat back, studying him. "It's a small cut, but Jeran's knife is dirty. He uses it to cut his meat and pick his teeth."

Blade grimaced. "A man should keep his weapons clean."

"You certainly do."

"It was part of my training."

"Why did you become an assassin?"

He shrugged. "I needed to make a living, and I was good at killing."

"Would you consider teaching my men your tricks?"

"No. Assassins are forbidden to reveal their secrets to anyone except their apprentices."

Asrah dabbed his wound with the cloth again, and he hissed, but bore it. "You were lying to me the other night, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I didn't want to wear the chains."

She wiped away the blood and sat back once more. "Yet you used them as a weapon."

"I had to." He eyed her. "Why didn't you tell your men to leave Kestra alone?"

"They won't hurt her."

"She's a maiden."

Asrah laughed. "She told you that? She's lying. No girl in a Cotti lord's harem would reach her age untouched."

"She's not lying."

"How would you know? Or perhaps it's you who are lying. After all, you share a tent with her."

Blade shook his head. "She's perfectly safe with me."

"And why is that? Don't tell me that you're happily married."

"Not happily, but I am."

Asrah stared at him, then put down the cloth and jumped up, walking across the tent to pick up a wine skin and uncork it. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Because you don't want to."

"No, it's because you don't strike me as the kind of man who could love a woman."

"I didn't say I loved her."

Asrah sipped from the wine skin. "You tried to seduce me the other night."

"I wasn't trying to seduce you."

"No? Well you did a damned good imitation of it."

"Not good enough, since I failed to persuade you not to put the shackles on me."

She glared at him. "And that was all you wanted?"

"Yes."

"I see." His answer appeared to mollify her, and she returned to sit before him again. "But if your marriage is one of convenience, why would you honour it?"

"I didn't claim to honour it."

She looked puzzled. "Then why do you say that the girl is safe with you?"

Blade gazed at his hands, wondering if he should concoct a lie to explain it or tell the truth. A lie appealed to him, since he was not sure of her reaction to his shortcomings. Then again, she would find out soon enough if she tried to seduce him, which seemed likely, given her obvious attraction to him, and that might anger her more. If he told the truth, she would pity him, which could prove less hazardous to his health, and that of the queens. He had hoped that her desire for him would make her more amenable to his wishes, but perhaps her pity would work just as well, and without the complications of the lie. He did not care if she pitied him. He had used the emotions of others to his advantage many times. He looked up, finding her waiting for his reply.

"I told you that I had more reason to hate the Cotti than you do, but I didn't tell you everything they did to me."

She looked surprised. "There's more?"

"Yes. They also castrated me."

Asrah's gaze raked him, realisation dawning in her eyes, mixed with pity and a hint of disgust, whether for him, the Cotti or herself, he was not sure. She picked up the wine skin and drank from it, then offered it to him. He took a few gulps while she studied him, her expression one of deep disappointment.

"What about your wife?"

"She knew about it before she wed me."

She took the wine skin when he held it out. "That's most unfortunate."

"For you or me?"

"Both of us, I think."

"I suppose so."

Asrah handed him the wine skin. "So, you really do have ice in your veins."

He smiled. "Yes."

"And the other night..."

He shrugged. "I made no promises, or even suggestions."

"No, you didn't." She reached for the wine skin. "Go back to your charges. I won't bother you again."

Blade left her staring at the place where he had been sitting, and crossed the camp under the baleful gaze of several bandits, whose reason for hating him had just increased significantly. When he slipped inside the queens' tent, he found them huddled together at the back, talking in low tones.

They turned at his entry, and Kerra burst out, "We must get away from these people, Blade."

He sank down on his bedroll. "And how do you suggest we do that?"

"Take our horses and flee."

He smiled. "If it was that easy, I would have done it already."

"You could kill the guards in the night, and we could sneak out of the camp. By the time they found us gone, we would be far away."

"I have no weapons -"

"You do not need weapons," Minna pointed out.

He inclined his head. "I could probably manage without them, but we also have no money, and no supplies, and we would leave a trail that they would follow in the morning. Since we would be forced to head for the nearest town, they would soon catch us, and then they would have a reason to kill me and sell you."

Kerra glanced at her mother, who frowned and muttered, "This situation is intolerable. These men will harm us. You may be able to protect us while you are here, but what will happen when you leave to perform this assassination?"

"I will ask Asrah to protect you."

"She is a bandit," Kerra snapped.

"She is also a woman. I do not think she will allow her men to do to you what was done to her, and she appears well able to control them."

Kerra shook her head, her mouth a stubborn line. "What if something happens to you? What if she sells us while you are away? We cannot trust her."

Blade sighed and lay down. "We have no choice. Nothing will happen to me, and if she sells you, I will find you."

Kerra turned to her mother. "I could send Myasha to father with a message."

The assassin chuckled. "Have you only thought of that now? I would have suggested it long ago, if it was possible."

"Why is it not?"

"Because Myasha has never been to Jadaya, and nor have you. How would he find it? You do not have the experience to give him the information he will need, even if I explained it to you. And even if he did, he does not know your father. What is more, you should not be so eager to put him in danger, there are many perils in the desert. Hunters and eagles, to name just two. Direfalcons do not live in the desert, they are not adapted for this climate, and snakes are few."

Kerra frowned at the floor, and Minna put a hand on her arm. "Perhaps we should follow the course that Lord Conash has suggested, Kerra. I have great respect for his intelligence, and I do not believe that he would put us in danger."

"What about when that woman finds out that he will never be her lover? I think it is only her desire for Blade that makes her treat us well. She will make us all pay."

"She already knows," Blade murmured.

"You told her? What did she say?"

"That she would not bother me again."

"She was not angry?"

Blade shook his head. "I did not think she would be, actually. Considering her hatred for the Cotti, hearing more of their atrocities would make her hate them more, not us. She thinks we are all their victims."

Kerra opened her mouth to reply, but a bandit pushed open the tent flap and dumped three bowls of stew and a chunk of bread on the floor, ending the conversation.