Chapter Nineteen

 

Minna-Satu entered Blade's quarters late that night, well after dinner, when most people were abed. The assassin sat on the window seat, a cup of wine nearby, gazing out at the moonlit city. Four torches illuminated the room, and moonlight streamed in through the windows. He rose at her entrance and bowed, gesturing to a pile of cushions. As she moved to them and sank down, she noted that he wore a tight leather vest instead of his jacket, and blades were strapped to his boots.

Blade offered her a cup of wine, which she accepted with a smile, her eyes drawn to the glittering boot-blades as he walked across the room. She was unable to quell a slight shiver at the thought of how deadly he was while wearing them, and she was glad that she would never be his target. His deadliness was part of his attraction, making his presence exciting and strangely comforting, knowing that he would be willing to use his legendary skills in her defence, as he had done in the past. He handed her a cup of wine, then walked to the centre of the room, where he turned.

"As you suggested, I have invented a new dance, My Queen. I have called it the Dance of Vengeance."

"How fitting, My Lord."

"I thought so."

Blade drew two daggers from his belt and paused as if to gather his thoughts, then swung away. Raising his arms, he took two steps and spun, his feet clattering on the floor in a fast tattoo. The daggers flashed in the torchlight, as did the boot-blades as his feet blurred with the speed of their motion. Minna stared at him, once more entranced by his grace, speed, agility and vigour. The precision of his steps, the perfect balance of his leaps and the way he seemed to hang in the air, defying gravity, proved that he remained a Master of the Dance, even though he had given up that title when he had retired. No one, she mused, would ever surpass Blade's ability to dance.

Blade performed the full range of his skills, from the high, stiff-legged leap, clashing his feet before him in a shower of sparks, to the complicated series of steps and sideways leg flicks that looked so difficult, yet so graceful. He lashed out at invisible enemies with the daggers, and she could imagine his fictitious foes slain by their flashing strokes. His dance proved to be far more complex and difficult than the extracts from the Dance of Death he had performed for her in the past.

This, she reflected, was due to his unrivalled skill, which undoubtedly far surpassed the man who had invented the Dance of Death centuries ago. It amazed her that he could perform such complicated moves, while armed with razor-sharp daggers, and not cut himself at least once. The boot-blades flashed hair's breadths from his legs as he leapt and spun, and sliced the air with deadly strokes when he leapt to the extraordinary height that only he could achieve, she was certain.

The dance was far too short. She could have watched him for time-glasses, but after a final high, leg-crossing leap, he fell into a crouch before her and raised his head to meet her gaze. Sweat sheened his skin, and his breath came in rapid gasps, but vitality radiated from him. Turning his head, he raised an arm and flicked a dagger into the shadows, where it struck something with a woody thud. Minna gasped and turned as he jumped up and gazed into the gloom.

"You can come out now, Kerrion."

The Cotti King stepped out of the darkness, looking a little sheepish. "A fine performance, My Lord."

Blade inclined his head. "And a foolhardy act on your part, hiding in the shadows. Did you really think I would not notice you?"

"I hoped."

"My Queen's idea, I suppose?"

"Indeed. But at my request. I too wanted to see you dance again, and to bid you farewell. I suppose you will leave the palace at dawn, and had I not come here, without a word of goodbye."

"Correct. I am not one for farewells."

Kerrion walked over to his wife and sat beside her. "But I am. I wished to remind you of my undying gratitude for your aid in rescuing Minna-Satu. Also, for making it possible to implement my laws and make her my queen."

"As was abundantly evident from your heroic endeavours to free me from the executioner's courtyard." The assassin turned away and went back to the window seat, where he picked up his wine cup.

Kerrion glanced at his wife and sighed. "I had hoped we could put that behind us."

"Oh, I intend to. Several hundred leagues."

"I allowed Minna to help you."

Blade snorted. "Do you think you could have stopped her?"

"I reduced the number of guards in the courtyard."

"A vast contribution. I am overwhelmed."

Kerrion jumped up and strode over to confront the assassin, who swung to face him with a frown.

"Enough of this, Blade. I tire of your endless bitterness. If you want to punish me for who and what I am, or for what I did or did not do, then do it. Here I am."

"Are you inviting me to slit your throat?"

"If that is your wish."

"Do not tempt me," Blade growled. "Your marriage protects you, or else I would."

"Then forget your bitterness and be my ally, if not my friend."

"I shall never be either, and forgetfulness is not one of my traits."

Kerrion shook his head. "How can I change your mind? What can I do to -?"

"Nothing." The assassin glared at him, putting aside his wine cup. "Seeking my forgiveness is a pointless exercise. I have none. You are my enemy, and will always remain so, no matter what you say or do."

"I see." The King turned away. "That is sad, and I regret it. I like you. It has taken me a long time to admit that, even to myself, although Minna knew it. I shall always count you as a friend, even if I am not yours, and if you ever need my friendship, it is yours."

"It did me no good when I was going to get a stake up my -"

"That was beyond my power!" He swung back to face the assassin. "I regret that. I stopped those bastards from stoning you, at least."

"Enough." Minna stood up as the argument grew heated, which it inevitably seemed to, between them. Walking over to them, she frowned at Blade. "You are beyond stubborn, My Lord. You put donkey kin and their familiars to shame. I saw how it ate at Kerrion that he could not aid you, even though I was angry with him too. We did not come here to argue with you, only to enjoy a cup of wine together one last time, and wish you farewell."

The assassin's gaze flicked past her to Kerrion. "Then you should not have brought him."

The King threw up his hands. "I shall leave. Anything to keep the peace and make you happy. I wish you a safe journey and a good life in your homeland, Lord Conash."

"I doubt that your brother has left happy memories with my wife."

Minna's brows rose. "That is hardly Kerrion's fault."

The King stepped closer to the assassin. "If you go to Contara and kill the bastard, you have my blessing. I too, abhor what he did to Chiana."

Blade studied the King. "You are a far better man than your father, or your brothers. I will never like you, as you profess to do me, but I will say this much. Of all Cotti, you, I hate the least."

Kerrion smiled. "That is a great admission, from you. I wish you a long and happy life, Blade."

The King held out his hand, and the assassin's eyes flicked to it, then back to Kerrion's face. He stood motionless while Minna held her breath and Kerrion waited, his hand outstretched. A slight, cynical smile curled Blade's lips as he took the King's hand in a brief clasp. Kerrion's smile widened, then he turned and walked out.

Minna smiled up at the assassin before she took his arm to lead him onto the balcony, his boot-blades clicking on the marble floor.

"I too, have something to tell you, My Lord."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. You remember your request for a reward that came from my heart?"

"Of course." He gazed out across the city, his expression distant.

"You were right to request it, and mine was the oversight. It is not something that I, as a queen, have ever had to express in the past."

"Or feel?"

"Indeed, I have taken too much for granted." She stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her, although he did not meet her eyes. Reaching up, she touched his cheek, making him meet her gaze in surprise. "For saving my life, and all the hardships you have endured on my behalf. For everything you have done for me. Thank you, Blade."

The assassin gazed into her eyes, and she held his chilling glance with an effort. His face remained deadpan, denying her the satisfaction of glimpsing any vestige of his thoughts or emotions. She stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled when she stepped back.

"I am honoured, My Queen."

She smiled. "I have longed to do that for years, but protocol constrained me. This was my last chance."

"A good thing Kerrion is no longer trying to hide in the shadows."

"How did you know he was there?"

"I sensed his presence, and smelt him, or I might have been alarmed by someone sneaking about the room, and my dagger would not have been aimed at the picture frame."

She leant on the railing. "Your abilities never cease to amaze me. Having you here was a great comfort to me."

"Few would feel that way about me."

"You would be surprised. Those who count you as a friend find your presence pleasurable, despite your chilly looks and taciturn ways. If you ever made the effort to be cheerful, you could make someone very happy."

"Chiana, you mean."

"Do you truly feel nothing for her?"

He turned and gazed out at the city again. "I have told you, I am incapable of such emotions."

She sighed. "And I know you to be a liar."

"It grows late, My Queen."

"She will have great need of you when you return to Jashimari. Promise me that you will visit her upon your arrival."

A slight frown puckered his brow. "I had planned to seek out Shamsara."

"A few days will make no difference. Promise me, Blade."

"Very well. A few days only."

"Good." She smiled. "You know of the arrangements with Kerrion's man, to guide you across the desert?" At his nod, she went on, "Then I wish you a pleasant and safe journey, and a happy life."

She turned away as he bowed. "My Queen."

"Farewell, My Lord Conash."

 

Prince Endor glared at the unconscious assassin who hung in the chains against the wall of the well-equipped torture chamber. He had learnt nothing from the man, not even his name, and although information was not the reason for his suffering, answers to the questions put to him would have been satisfying. The man had not uttered a word in all the time he had been the Prince's captive. He had not begged for mercy even once, nor shown any anger at his treatment. His silence annoyed Endor, who longed for the pleasure of listening to the assassin plead for mercy.

As it was, he was beginning to wonder if the man was a mute, for he had not even groaned during his torture. Now he was close to death, covered with cuts and bruises, many of his fingers and toes crushed. The guards had spotted a snow cat slinking around the castle on several occasions, but somehow, the assassin had prevented his familiar from trying to rescue him and being killed in the process.

Endor glanced at the torturer. "Throw him in his cell, and let him recover for a few days, then you can play with him some more. Eventually he will do something interesting, or die."

The torturer bowed. "Yes, My Prince."

Endor left the dungeon and marched through the palace to the sun room where he kept the Regent's familiar. He was tired of playing games, and the assassin's torture brought him little pleasure. Two moon-phases had passed since the Jashimari's capture, and still there was no sign of the Queen's Blade. His spies in Jadaya were unable to send him any information, for there had been no more assassinations, and they did not know whether Blade was still there, or had left.

Kerrion's new laws had been passed, even though Endor had voted against them by proxy; he was now a lone dissenter, outvoted by his brothers. He assumed that once the laws were ratified Blade would return to Jashimari, but as yet he had received no word that he had. The lack of information angered him, and with the other assassin providing no entertainment, it was time to set some new events in motion. He went over to the cage and opened the door, reaching in to grasp the fluttering dove. She struggled as he drew her from the cage, her little heart hammering and her liquid eyes bright with terror.

Smiling, he held her up and studied her. "So, my little pretty, time to send Chiana a message, I think. Time for her to be punished for sending two second-rate assassins to kill me, and for Jashimari to suffer a little anarchy." He chuckled. "This will make her send the Queen's Blade here, and his death will avenge my brothers' murders."

Endor tightened his grip on the dove, and her struggles became frantic as he squeezed the life from her.

 

Chiana gazed out of her sitting room window at the sunlit, autumnal gardens. The last of the summer flowers fell from the trees in a gentle rain, drifting down to carpet the lawn with patterns of pink, white and purple. The gardeners raked them up each day, but the next day more fell, like bright tears, mourning summer's passing and the approach of the cold, bleak winter days. Then the trees would stand stark and bare against the chill grey sky that reminded her of her husband's eyes. She missed him, as she always did, but now Inka's absence added to her misery. Each night, she wept for her familiar's suffering and prayed for her rescue, but each day that hope faded.

Lance had been gone for three moons now, which meant that he had been in Contara for more than two, and still she had no news from him or of him. Her spies in Contara had reported his arrival, but nothing since then. He had vanished, and Endor still lived, although the spies had informed her of the Prince's injury in a taproom brawl. Lance should have made his attempt by now, for she had stressed the urgency of freeing Inka. It seemed certain that he had failed, and had either been captured or killed. Her helplessness ate at her, making each day a trial of waiting and dreading Endor's ultimate revenge, which she was certain would soon come. In fact, it surprised her that he had waited so long.

Good news from Jadaya had cheered her. Kerra was safe and well, Kerrion's new laws were in force, and his wife would soon be crowned. All of this thanks to the presence there of the Queen's Blade, she reminded herself. Best of all, Blade was on his way back to Jashimari, and she prayed that he would return to Jondar. She wondered if he would seek Endor's death himself when he learnt of Lance's failure. That prospect cheered and terrified her, for if he succeeded, Inka would be freed, but if he failed she may lose them both.

The fact that he had never failed comforted her, but his apprentice's failure gave her reason to doubt that even he would succeed. He was no longer a young man, and, even with Shamsara's rejuvenating blood in his veins, he was well past the age when assassins retired. Chiana could not shake the sense of impending doom that plagued her, filling her dreams with horror and death. Many contained images of Blade being killed in a horrific fight in a dark room with blood-splattered walls, in others he hung in a rack, suffering a slow and painful death. The nightmares might have been due, in part, to the black and grey dream silk that hissed upon the palace's temple, but not entirely, she was sure. The Death Moon waxed, and she longed for the day when the dream silk colours were changed.

A knock at the door chased the worries from her mind, and she turned with a smile. She had invited Insash to join her for lunch, and he was prompt, as ever. At her nod, one of her maidens went to open it. Insash entered and bowed.

"Regent."

"Insash. You look well."

He studied her. "I wish I could say the same about you, Chiana, but in truth you look as if you have not slept for a moon."

"I have had a little trouble, but it will pass, as all things do." She gestured to a pile of cushions. "Sit, lunch will be served shortly. Some wine?"

 

The chief advisor sank down with a smile, nodding his acceptance, and one of her maidens filled a goblet for him. Chiana accepted a cup and walked towards him. Halfway across the room, she stopped, the blood drained from her cheeks and her breath caught. The goblet slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a shrill peal of gold on marble, spraying red wine like blood. Chiana raised her hands to her breast, her face twisting with agony as her mouth opened in a silent scream.

Insash leapt up and ran to her as she collapsed, and her maidens shrieked in distress, rushing to her side. She hit the floor with a sickening thud, cracking her head on the marble. Insash fell to his knees beside her, his expression a mixture of anguish and dread.

"Summon Verdan!" he shouted. "Hurry!"

Three girls jumped up and sprinted to obey, leaving Insash to gaze down at the stricken Regent, whose complexion almost matched the white stone on which she lay. Her mouth worked, and her eyes clung to his in desperate pleading as she struggled to draw breath. He knew all too well what was happening, and cursed under his breath as he lifted her head into his lap and cradled it there.

"Damn him! Damn him!"

Chiana gripped the front of his tunic and pulled him closer, her mouth working to form silent words. Finally she managed the softest of whispers.

"He is killing... her."

"I know." Insash stroked her cheek. "You will be all right."

"She is... dying."

"Be strong, my dear. It will soon be over."

Tears oozed from her eyes and slid down her alabaster cheeks. "He is... killing her."

"I am so sorry. Be strong."

"Inka." Her face twisted into an expression of intense anguish mixed with agony, then she drew a shallow gasp and screamed, "Inka!"

Her shriek of unadulterated anguish brought tears to his eyes, but all he could do was stroke her hair and gaze down at her as she shared the pain of her familiar's death. She clawed at her throat, and, judging by her struggles to breathe, he guessed that Endor was crushing the bird. His concern grew as her lips turned blue and her eyes became glazed, then they rolled back, and she slumped.

The doors crashed open and the old healer trotted in, two maidens and a guard half dragging, half carrying him. Verdan wheezed as they rushed him to the Regent's side and lowered him to his knees, the guard thrusting his bag of mendicants into his hands. He clutched it, gazing down at the regent, then put it aside and bent over her to raise an eyelid with a shaking hand. He bent further and put his ear to her breast, listening for a minute before straightening with a grunt.

"There is nothing I can do for her, advisor. She will live."

"Are you sure?"

"It is well known that people who lose their familiar fall into a coma, but they do not die."

"She could not breathe."

"She suffered her familiar's death agonies." He shot Insash a hard glance with watery eyes. "You know this, everyone does."

"Yes of course, but she was already weak."

"Indeed." Verdan climbed to his feet. "Now she is in a coma."

"She hit her head when she fell."

The healer signalled to the maidens. "Take her to her boudoir and put her on her bed. I shall examine her there." He turned to Insash. "Do not be alarmed, she will recover. I, on the other hand, may not." He tottered over to the cushions and sank down on them, wheezing.

Four maidens picked up the unconscious Regent and bore her off to her bed chamber, and Insash watched them with eyes filled with worry. "Not all people survive their familiar's death, Verdan."

"No, some end their lives, but she does not have that luxury."

"How do you know what she will decide?" He turned to the healer as the maidens vanished into Chiana's bedroom. "She is terribly alone. Queen Kerra is in Cotti, as is her husband, for all the good he would do, even if he was here, the cold-hearted bastard."

Verdan pulled out a voluminous linen handkerchief and mopped his brow. "I understand that Lord Conash is returning."

"To Jashimari. Knowing him, he will not come to the palace, even if he knew of her plight."

"And how well do you know him?"

Insash shook his head. "I have never met the man, nor do I wish to."

"As I thought. I think you underestimate him."

"Do I?" The advisor swung away, paced in a circle, and faced the old healer again. "I disagree. The man is as cold as a fish."

"He is cat kin."

"I know." Insash threw up his hands. "This is a disaster! Jashimari is without a ruler. There will be riots, uprisings."

Verdan rose and headed for Chiana's bedroom. "I had better check to see if she has injured her head."

Insash caught his arm as he went past, stopping him. "What am I to do? I cannot rule in her stead, and she named no other regent."

"I am not an advisor, Insash. Perhaps you should consult your peers on the matter."

"They are useless," he said. "They will argue and debate the matter for days. All of them will have different opinions or suggestions, and with no one to decide, it will do no good."

Verdan pried Insash's fingers from his arm. "Then my advice is to find Lord Conash."

Insash's brows shot up. "Why?"

The healer eyed him through the bushy outcrop of his lowered brows. "Because he is the next most powerful person in the realm. He is the Lord Protector."

"Surely you jest? He is an assassin. He would not do it, and I have no idea where he is, even if I wanted to find him, which I do not."

"Then you are a fool. Only a person of high rank can step into the Regent's shoes now. He was elevated by Queen Minna-Satu herself, and holds a rank that can even silence the Queen in times of crisis. Have you a better idea?"

Insash stared at him as he walked away, stunned. "He will not do it, even if he could be found."

Verdan paused in the doorway. "Are you prepared to wager the kingdom's fate on that?"

Insash strode after him as he vanished into Chiana's bedroom. "How long will she sleep?"

Verdan stood beside the bed, gazing down at the Regent, who lay beneath the sheets, her hair loosened and spread across the pillow in a chestnut swathe. He looked up as Insash entered, frowning.

"Usually the small death lasts about a tenday, longer if the person is weak."

"She is weak."

"The longest on record is fifteen days, but the man was very old."

Insash stared at Chiana's pale visage, his eyes wide. "Fifteen days? It will be a disaster!"

"Not if you find Lord Conash."

"And just how am I supposed to do that? The man vanished for fifteen years; he can easily do it again."

"You do not have to find him; only ensure that he hears of this."

The advisor threw up his hands again. "The last thing I want to do is spread this news. The fewer people who know about it, the better. Perhaps we can keep it quiet until she wakes."

"And who will run the country?" Verdan bent over his patient and lifted her head to run his fingers over the back of it. "The news of her collapse has already spread. It will be in the city by now, tomorrow it will have reached nearby towns, and in three days it will have reached the borders."

Insash frowned. "For someone who a moment ago claimed not to be an advisor, you certainly have a great deal of advice to give."

"You asked for it." Verdan laid Chiana's head back on the pillow and straightened. "She has a lump, nothing more. She will be all right."

"Can you wake her up?"

The old healer swung to glare at him. "No, I will not. To do so is dangerous, and can cause considerable damage to her mind. This time is necessary for her to recover from the shock of her loss."

Insash ran a hand through his hair. "You are right, of course. I just thought... for a moment, so she could tell me what she wants me to do."

"She would be incoherent. She would tell you to find her husband if she had her wits about her."

"What about the Queen?"

Verdan shook his head. "She is in Cotti, and she is just a child."

"I could send a message and ask for her opinion."

"It would do no good even if she was old enough to rule. The people need someone here, in the palace, to assure them of governance and listen to their grievances. Find Lord Conash."

The advisor snorted. "You mean the Queen's Blade, an assassin. The people will never accept his rule, even for a few days, and he may be more than a tenday's ride from Jondar."

"In that case, there will be a great deal of trouble, upheaval, and even bloodshed, but he may be just outside the city gates, too."

Insash rubbed his brow. "I shall send a message to Kerrion. He will know what to do."

"He is the damned Cotti King. His interference will only infuriate the populace. Have you no sense?"

"It is easy for you to make silly suggestions. The consequences of my actions will fall on me, not you. You are just a healer."

Verdan glowered. "I am older and wiser, and I have met Lord Conash, which you have not."

"I know him by reputation."

"Which is not enough to judge him. For God's sake, send messengers out. Find him."

The chief advisor stared at Chiana's peaceful face, frowning. "Very well. But I do not believe he will come, and, even if he does, I do not believe he will agree to it. I shall call for a vote amongst the lords. They will have to elect a new regent."

Verdan growled, "Do not be a fool. They are at each other's throats. They will never agree to one man or woman. The very rumour of such a thing will increase the unrest. You must immediately announce that Lord Conash will be Regent, and that he is on his way to the palace. Only he outranks the other lords. Already there is ugly muttering amongst the people because the Queen is in Cotti with her father. That she was sent there for her safety, and will be returning soon, is the only reason they are reasonably content."

Insash turned and headed for the door. "I still do not believe the assassin will come, but perhaps the announcement of his regency will be sufficient to quell the masses, if what you say is correct."