Lilu sat behind the curtain and listened to the men in the taproom shout, sing and banter. It was the end of the tenday, and she had been busy earlier. Now her customers were sated and enjoying the wine and fondling the other harlots. Their work had all but dried up since Lilu's arrival, and they spat at and slapped her often. She endured it for Blade's sake, but she hoped that she would learn something soon. Two tendays had passed, and her birthing time drew near.
A loud conversation caught her attention, and she strained to hear it, catching snatches.
“...We beat him good, that's fer sure... Pissed on 'im too...”
“Jobal said 'e were dead... But he's still alive, would you...”
Lilu leant closer to the curtain, her breath catching with excitement. A man guffawed, and she caught more snippets.
“...Benaar's the one who cracked 'im on the...”
“Damned dirty... Like rats, they are... Goin' to have some fun...”
“Go on with yer, Jobal...”
Lilu gasped and jumped up as the curtain to the taproom was thrust aside and a muscular, brown-haired man with a plaited beard entered the corridor. She bolted into her room, and he pushed open the curtain a moment later and swaggered in.
As he was about to leave, she asked, “Are you one of the lads who killed the Dance Master?”
He eyed her, clearly surprised. “We din't kill 'im, but we tried.”
“You must be brave. How many of you were there?”
“A dirty dozen.” He grinned. “Why are ye talkin'? Yer looking for another bedding? I'll send one of t'other lads back to keep yer 'appy if ye like.”
“That's all right, I reckon I've had them all tonight.”
“Too right ye 'ave, but some of 'em's game for seconds.”
“I'm quite tired, actually.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “They'll wake yer up an' no mistake.”
Lilu's heart sank as he left, dreading more work when she was already tired. He was true to his word, however, and within minutes another man came in, this one larger, with a shaven head and garish tattoos on his cheeks.
When he was finished, she asked, “Are you one of the boys who beat the Dance Master too?”
He stared at her. “Hah. Jobal said you was a talker. Aye, I am. We're all 'ere tonight.”
“You're so brave. I'd like to meet them all.”
“You already 'ave.”
“What are their names?”
He scratched his head, looking puzzled. “Well now, there's Gerin, Jonnis, Bertal, Jobal, Petran, Vorn, Teddel, Kento, Thedor, Mathis, Ludor and me.”
“And you are?”
“Benaar. I'm the one who almost brained the bastard.”
“With a rock? How brave of you.”
He eyed her. “You bein' funny?”
“No, no, assassins are dangerous.”
He stepped closer. “He were drunk and alone, an' I jumped 'im from behind. You call that brave?”
“Well, if you put it like that, I guess not.”
“Oh, so now I'm a dirty coward.”
Lilu knew where this was going from years of experience. Benaar was in a mood to beat someone, and looking for an excuse to do it. She knew that a beating now, when she was so close to term, might bring the baby on early.
“I meant no offence,” she said.
“Well you offend me,” he said. “With yer dented face and bloated belly, still rutting like you 'aven't already 'ad enough. And then you want to talk. Things like you shouldn't talk!”
“You're right. I won't, ever again, I swear.”
“An' now you're swearin', an' that's just wrong.” Benaar stepped closer, his expression murderous. “I think yer need some more dents in that ugly mug o' yorn.”
Lilu scrambled away, wishing she could flee, but her pregnancy weighed her down. Benaar grabbed her hair, and she screamed as his fist thudded into her stomach, pain lancing through her. She tried to curl up to protect her baby, but Benaar had other ideas. His next punch cracked into her jaw, sending her sprawling. He kicked her in the belly, and something tore. Warm liquid gushed over her thighs, and she screamed again. The curtain opened and men crowded into the pokey room, Devar amongst them.
The innkeeper protested, but was thrust out, and the men who had tried to kill Blade surrounded her. She tried to memorise their faces or distinguishing marks, but she did not know who was who, even so. Even if she survived to tell Blade, the information would be of little use. Jobal grinned and kicked her, and she groaned as a contraction tore through her.
Blade glanced around when a street urchin came to his side, recognising the boy from Tarbriar Way. The assassin sat in his usual seat at the back of the Hangman's Noose, his new haunt. The boy panted, his eyes wide.
“Dance Master,” he gasped. “The whore...”
“What of her?”
“They're goin' to kill 'er, I reckon.”
Blade straightened, frowning. “Who?”
“I dunno. Ten men, mayhap twelve. They've got 'er cornered in the Winsome Wench and they be kickin' 'er to death.”
The assassin jumped up and loped to the door, thrusting it open with a bang. The curious, puzzled stares of the two assassins who shared his haunt followed him. In the street, his breath steamed in the cold air. He sprinted up the road towards the Winsome Wench, which was half a time-glass' walk away. He had chosen a new haunt that was not too close to it, lest he arouse suspicion, but it was in Trobalon territory and closer than his old one. His boots skidded on the icy cobbles on the corners, and people jumped out of his way with curses and yells.
As he neared his destination, he wondered how he was going to take on a dozen men, some of whom might be armed. Lilu might already be dead. He had no idea how much abuse a pregnant woman could withstand. A street away from the Winsome Wench, he paused to strap on his boot blades. This might be the first time he used them in a real fight, and put his training to the test. The metal soles made his footing even more treacherous, and he almost skidded twice more before he reached the inn's front door and wrenched it open. The whorehouse was unusually quiet and almost empty. He picked up the tension instantly, along with the scent of blood. Devar stood behind the counter, polishing cups with a frown. The assassin banged on the counter to get his attention, and he sauntered over.
“Where's the whore, Lilu?” Blade demanded.
“Aye, well now, she started trouble here tonight, indeed she did.”
“Where is she?”
“Probably dead by now.”
“Where?”
Devar leant on the counter. “I threw her out. Silly bitch got the lads all riled up, and she were a hard worker, too. Shame really.”
“Where did you throw her?”
“Out the back. She was making an awful racket. Most of my customers cleared out, thanks to her. The lads too, and they were having a good time before...”
Blade loped through the curtain at the back of the taproom and into the short, dingy corridor, at the end of which was another door. He wrenched it open, and almost fell over the naked woman lying right outside. His boot blades clicked as he stepped over her and crouched, averting his eyes from her exposure and the blood that ran over her thighs. He touched her shoulder, found it warm, and felt for a pulse in her neck. Cursing, he glanced up and down the narrow lane. On the other side of the street at one end of the alley was a livery stable.
Stepping over her again, he re-entered the brothel and went to her room to fetch her tatty dress, returning to drape it over her. He did not want to have to carry her far, and the added weight of the child would make her a heavy burden, but the only other choice was to walk away. If he took her back into the brothel and she screamed, the owner would doubtless throw her out, or try to, which would lead to an unwanted fracas, with possible broken heads and a visit from the Watch.
Blade slid his arms under her, shuddering at the touch of her clammy skin. The stench of blood made his stomach heave, and he turned his head away as he cradled her against his chest and stood up. To his surprise, she was not as heavy as he had expected, or perhaps he was stronger than he had been last time. He walked to the stable, his boot blades skidding on the icy cobbles. In the livery's warm redolence, he found an empty stall and placed her on the straw.
The dress slid off, and he swiftly covered her again, his cheeks growing hot as he glanced around with guilty unease. The assassin's dislike for the situation grew in leaps and bounds, and he longed to abandon her and walk away. Not much disconcerted him more than a naked woman, but an unconscious one in labour in public came top of his list, he discovered. Kneeling beside her, he patted her cheek. Her belly bulged with contractions, and he was fairly sure that she should be awake for the birth. Blood oozed from her nose, her lips were puffy and a swelling closed one eye.
“Gods, Lilu,” he muttered, “I didn't think you could get any uglier. Come on, wake up.”
His persistent patting made her blink and moan, then, to his relief, her eyes opened. She focussed on him, and an expression of desperate joy twisted her battered face. Blade forced what he hoped was a comforting smile, but it must have looked like a grimace of distaste. Alarm blossomed in her eyes, and she grabbed him before he could leap out of reach, clutched his neck and buried her face in his chest. Her grip brought Blade's recoil up short, and his immediate, instinctive yearning to be free of her smelly, sweaty arms made his hands flash up to shove her away, come into contact with sticky flesh and snap back like they were spring loaded.
Blade tried to pull free. “Get off me, Lilu!”
Lilu clung to him, sobbing, then cried out, drawing up her legs as a contraction racked her. The assassin gripped her hands and wrenched them from his neck, scrambling away. She clasped her stomach and groaned, her face twisted with pain. Blade, on the brink of bolting, hesitated, eyeing her. He could not abandon her now. Edging closer, he watched her, staying out of reach.
“That's it,” he murmured, not knowing if he was saying the right thing. “You're doing fine.”
“How would you know, you blithering idiot? How many babies have you birthed?” she gritted.
“You should have thought of that before...” He bit his tongue, averting his eyes as the dress slid off again.
“Blade...” She stretched out a hand. “Help me.”
“How?”
“Hold my hand, you idiot.” She groaned and gasped.
“No. I'll fetch a midwife.”
“Oh, good idea. And I suppose you know where she lives?”
“No. Where does she live?”
Lilu writhed, clutching her belly. “It's too late! Please, just hold my hand.”
“What for?”
“It will help with the pain.”
“You're not going to grab me again?”
“No.” She groaned. “Those bastards tried to beat me to death too...” She gasped and bore down. “I found them. If you want their names, hold my bloody hand!”
Blade sidled closer and offered his hand, only to have it gripped in a bone-crushing hold that made him wince. “Ah! Lilu, that hurts.”
“Not half as much as this hurts, trust me,” she groaned.
“Yes, but I'm not the one in labour, nor did I do anything to cause you pain, so inflicting it on me isn't fair.”
“You're right, but there's no one else here, so you're it.”
“Ah!”
Lilu groaned and gasped, writhing as the contractions grew faster and stronger. Blade shifted, ill at ease and wincing whenever her grip tightened, which was with every contraction. Her skin became dewed with sweat and her cries grew so loud that he picked up her dress to stuff it into her mouth, then thought better of it and tried to pull it over her instead. She flailed at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to... um... keep you warm.”
She opened her eyes to study him. “No you're not. You're all embarrassed because I'm naked. You're such a virgin.”
“I am not!”
“'Course you are.” She groaned, bearing down, and her hand crushed his fingers.
He plucked at it. “Aah! Could you... hold the other hand now? This one's crushed.”
“No, you'll run if I let you go, and I need you to...” She groaned, then relaxed, panting. “...Help when the baby comes.”
“No!”
“Please, Blade. I'm sorry to... put you through this, but...” She strained again, her face reddening, then flopped back. “...There's no one else.”
He glanced around, hunted, yet trapped. “I could have fetched the midwife by now.”
“She lives in the slums. It's miles away, and hard to find. I know you, you wouldn't have...” She groaned and panted. “...Come back.”
Blade shot her a quick glance, his eyes skipping off her nudity, his face heating again. He picked up the dress. “Don't you want to put this on?”
She shot him a disbelieving look. “I'm in the middle of giving birth. I'm not going to put on a damned dress!”
Blade swallowed hard and winced as she gripped his bruised hand again. She cursed and writhed, and the stench of blood grew stronger. His eyes were drawn to something pink and glistening, smeared with blood, that emerged from her crotch. It had a face. A cold wave washed over him, and everything went dark.
Lilu relaxed as most of the pain abated. The worst was over. A soft thud in the straw beside her made her glance at Blade, who was stretched out, his eyes closed. After a moment of stunned disbelief, she giggled, then gasped as another contraction gripped her. The baby slid out, and she sat up and picked him up, wiping the slime off his face with the hem of her dress. He wriggled and raised his fists, then drew his first bubbling breath and wailed. Lilu smiled, stroking the thick black hair that clung to his scalp while she counted fingers and toes.
Lilu wrapped him in her skirt and lay back, holding the infant on her belly. He bawled lustily, but appeared to be unhurt despite the kicks that had thudded into her abdomen less than a time-glass ago. She glanced at Blade, smiling at his peaceful slumber. Here was the Master of the Dance, the deadliest assassin in all of Jondar, unable to stomach the sight of a birth.
Wise women always said that the pain of a birth would kill a man, and she thought that they were right. The baby howled, and she bit through the umbilical cord and placed him on the straw. After burying the afterbirth, she knelt to pull on her dress, which would make Blade happy when he woke, she mused. She wondered why he had come to the whorehouse. How had he known about her plight? That he had come warmed her heart, and she leant over to kiss his cheek, wiping off the drop of blood that she left on his skin. It came from her nose, and she wiped her face with her skirt, which also wrapped the infant.
Lilu smiled at him. “I shall call you Endellar. Storm Born. Endel for short. There may be no blizzard tonight, but you came into the world in the company of a human storm, and he lies in the straw, senseless from shock.” She giggled and whispered, “He's God Touched.”
Turning to Blade, she hesitated, almost loath to wake him, he was so peaceful. Placing the screaming baby in the straw again, she wriggled closer and stroked the assassin’s cheek. Somehow, he stood above the dross of humanity, pure in spirit and flesh, though stained with hatred and rage. His penchant for cleanliness bordered on fanatical, and she often wondered whence it stemmed. Sighing, she gave his shoulder a little shake. A scraping sound made her glance around. Benaar stood there, staring at her with angry, bloodshot eyes.
“So, the slut has birthed a bastard,” he growled. “You were supposed to die, and your bastard with you.”
Lilu shook Blade harder. “Wake up!”
“Who've you got there?” Benaar enquired. “Another victim? Looks like you rutted 'im to death, poor sod.”
Lilu thumped the assassin. “Wake up! Blade!”
“Blade?” Benaar's eyes widened, then narrowed. “What's 'e doin' 'ere? You two were in cahoots, innit?”
“Stay away from me!” she shouted when he stepped closer.
Lilu fumbled on Blade's belt for one of his daggers, sliding it free of its sheath with a soft, deadly slither. The baby screamed, and Benaar cast him a hard glance.
“I'm going to shut that there brat up, too.”
Lilu brandished the dagger, aware that it was razor sharp. She had seen Blade stropping his weapons for time-glasses to hone them so finely that they could slice through a cloth that was dropped on them. Benaar smiled and took another pace forward. Perhaps he did not realise that Blade was liable to wake at any moment, or at least, she hoped he was. She also hoped that he was a good fighter when not armed with a plank or faggot. Benaar leered. Lilu glanced at the assassin, and, in desperation, pressed the tip of the dagger into his belly. Blade jerked upright with a snort, whipped around and punched her in the side of the head. Lilu fell back, her skull ringing. The assassin scrambled away from her, looking alarmed. He glanced at Benaar, confusion mingling with his alarm.
“It's one of them,” Lilu cried. “He's one of the men who tried to kill you! He's the one who hit you with a rock!”
Benaar drew a long, wicked looking knife and lunged at Blade. The assassin quit the straw in a bound, moving so fast that Lilu's eyes could not follow him. Benaar swung around, finding the assassin behind him. Blade drew a dagger, then jumped back when Benaar charged him. As the assassin landed, he bounced high, one foot lashing out. It hit Benaar under the chin and sent him crashing into the straw. Blood bubbled from his throat, and he croaked, gaping as he struggled to breathe. Blade looked down at his feet, as if realising something, so startled did he look. Lilu followed his gaze and gasped. Three inches of bloody steel protruded from the end of his boot, and a clean blade jutted from the other. The assassin looked stunned, turning to stare at her, then Endel. The baby's screams reverberated around the barn.
“Shut it up,” he snarled.
Lilu scooped up the infant and clutched him to her breast, but he continued to howl. Blade glanced around, then at the jerking, twitching man who died on the straw. She pushed her finger into Endel's mouth, and he fell silent. Blade tucked away his dagger and retrieved the one she held, returning it to his collection.
“Come, we've got to get out of here before someone else comes.”
Lilu nodded, wondering if she would be able to walk so soon after giving birth. Struggling to her feet, she wobbled on rubbery legs, sparing a glance at the gaping man who gurgled on the floor. Blade headed for the door, apparently expecting her to be able to keep up. She tried, her legs shaking. He glanced back with knitted brows and beckoned urgently.
“Hurry up!”
“You try running when you feel like you've just been split in half.”
Blade snorted and came back to grip her arm and drag her forward, but she almost fell.
She cursed. “It's not that I don't want to go faster, Blade, it's that my legs aren't working all that well right now.”
With a growl, he bent and scooped her up, his expression thunderous and his nose wrinkled. Lilu gaped at him in astonishment.
“You stink,” he muttered.
“So would you if you'd just squeezed out a baby.”
The assassin’s eyes flicked down to the child, filled with distaste.
Blade paused in the doorway and glanced up and down the street, which was quiet, night almost fallen. He trotted across the road into the next alley, slipped into the shadows and strode along it. Lilu gazed at him, fighting the urge to kiss him. By the time he reached the end of the alley, she could resist no longer. Sliding her hand around his neck, she kissed him with all the pent-up passion she harboured for him. Blade recoiled as if she had slapped him, and the next thing she knew she was sitting on the ground, her rump smarting. He swung away, scrubbed his lips and spat. She stared at him, shocked and mortified.
When he faced her again, his face was twisted with disgust. “Gods! Why did you have to do that? I want to be ill! What in Damnation, Lilu?”
She hesitated, a sob catching in her chest. “I just... wanted to say... thank you.”
“How many times must I tell you not to touch me? And then you go and do that!” He scrubbed his lips again and spat. “Disgusting, filthy trollop!”
Her eyes stung. “If I'm such a disgusting filthy trollop, why did you save me?”
“I don't know! I want the information you almost got yourself killed for!”
“So I'm to blame now?”
He threw up his hands. “How should I know? I wasn't there!”
“Well I wasn't! I asked questions for you so I could find out their names and they beat me half to death!”
He hawked and spat, grimacing. “I'm not blaming you, for god's sake. Except for that.” He gestured to his mouth. “Don't ever do that again.”
Lilu stared at him, noting his pallor and haunted eyes. There was far more to it than a kiss from a whore, and she wondered what.
“All right,” she murmured.
“Come on, get up,” he said, pushing up his sleeve to rub his tongue on his arm, his face twisted.
Lilu rose, clutching Endel, who remained miraculously silent, sucking his own fingers now. Following Blade down the alley, she watched him hawk and spit, scrub his lips and scrape his tongue with his fingernails, trying not to let it upset her. They passed a public fountain on the way to his rooms, and he stopped to gargle with the water, which she considered was probably none too clean, and did not mention that she had seen beggars pissing in it before now. A small revenge for his humiliating reaction, and one she hoped she would not come to regret when she found out the reason for it.
Blade banged open the door to his room and slammed it behind her, going over to the fireplace to throw logs into it. Endel gurgled, and she sat on the bed and held him to her breast, smiling at him. Blade glanced around and jumped up with an oath.
“Gods, Lilu! Must you do that here?”
She wondered if there was no end to his aversions. “Where must I do it?”
“Behind the damned curtain!”
She glared at him. “No! I will not! What's the matter with you? I kiss you and you act as if I was the city sewer. I feed my child and you want me to hide. I give birth, and you pass out!”
“I did no such thing!”
Lilu giggled, shaking her head. “That lie won't work. I was there, remember? What happened when you keeled over, then? Were you taking a little nap?”
He looked confused, swinging away to grip the mantelpiece. “I don't remember. You were shouting, and then that thug was there.”
She sighed. “Yes, you passed out. For several minutes. I thought it was sweet.”
“Sweet!”
“Yes.” She giggled again. “The great Dance Master, senseless at the sight of a baby's birth.”
“It's not something I've seen before. I'm used to snuffing life out, not seeing it come into the world.”
Lilu sobered, frowning at him, and held the baby tighter. For anyone else, it might not have been a good idea to mock the deadliest man in the city, but she was not concerned. He bent and unbuckled the steel blades on his boots without bending his knees, and she marvelled at his suppleness.
Blade lighted a fire and fetched water, boiled two pots and filled a bath, which he soaked in for a time-glass. Lilu rocked Endel to sleep when he finished his feed, then sat and stared into the fire. Her insides were leaden and her eyes drooped with fatigue.
When Blade emerged, a towel around his hips, he gestured to the alcove. “The water's still warm. Wash the baby too, you both stink.”
When she emerged half a time-glass later, refreshed and sweet scented, he sat on the chair, staring into the fire with a distant expression. She had wrapped herself in a sheet, since her dress was filthy, and Endel slept on the bed. Settling on the mat, she studied the assassin.
“What was that all about?”
“What?”
“The kiss. I could understand a little bit of disgust, because I'm a whore, but that was extreme. I don't kiss my customers, you know.”
He grimaced, looking away. “Spare me the details.”
“I will, if you tell me what your problem is.”
“None of -”
“My business.” She nodded. “I know. But let's just say I want to know, and you want the names of the men who tried to kill you, so it's a fair trade.”
He rubbed his brow. “No, don't do this.”
“Why not?”
“It's not fair. What I want is meaningless to you, but what you want is something I'll never reveal to anyone.”
Lilu stared at him. “I think you just did. Someone did something terrible to you as a boy, and it involved kissing. Your father?”
“No.”
“So it was after your father died. The Cotti?”
Blade rested his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes. “Stop it.”
“But the Cotti don't bugger boys, or are the tales wrong?”
“They don't.”
“So... it was just kissing?”
He raised his head to look at her. “Why aren't you tired after rutting with men all day and squeezing out a baby in the afternoon?”
His tone was venomous, and she flinched. Evidently this was a subject too delicate for her to bring up right now, and she filed it away for the future, nodding. “I am. Especially since I rutted with all those men for your sake.”
“Thank the gods the baby isn't mine too. My fault, I mean.”
She tilted her head. “He might be. You were unconscious for a long time after I found you in the gutter.”
He stared at her, then snorted. “Impossible.”
“How so?”
“I... you can't do that to a man.”
“How would you know?”
“I'm a man.”
Lilu giggled. “What of it?”
“I'd know something like that.”
“And yet you don't.” She leant forward. “It is possible. You'd know if you weren't an innocent.”
“If I'm an innocent, I can't be his father.”
“So you admit that you are. Innocent, I mean.”
He sighed. “I'm not, but the fact that you think I am means you didn't ravish me in my sleep.”
Lilu frowned, cursing herself for bringing up the innocent bit. “I know you're lying. The way you were blushing when I was naked could only mean you're a virgin.”
“Will you stop it?”
“I'm just talking.”
“Too damned much,” he said. “Get that damned baby off my bed; I want to go to sleep.”
Lilu retrieved her son and curled up on the mat. Blade removed the towel and climbed into his bed in his shorts. Evidently he had donned them before emerging from the alcove, and she knew the reason for his extreme prudishness. There was much fun to be had from his ignorance, and she intended to make the most of it. Perhaps she would succeed in making him laugh, something she longed to see him do. His blushing innocence delighted her, and endeared him to her even more.