The Blade's Shadow (Ishtar's Legacy Book 4)

by Lisa Blackwood

  But there was another facet to all this. Tirigan needed to know she still trusted him absolutely.

  Asharru inclined her head in Kuri’s direction. “I understand your concerns. However, I trust my Blade’s judgment in this.”

  She held out her hand toward Tirigan, and he stepped forward and took it. Then together they sidestepped a scowling Kuri and made their way to the chamber.

  Inside, seventeen people turned to look at Asharru and Tirigan.

  Curiosity, uncertainty, and fear were all present on the various faces peering back at her. It was in that moment Asharru realized they did not recognize her or Tirigan. Or at least, they only knew her as the rich noblewoman who had purchased them, and they assumed Tirigan was her servant or slave.

  Tirigan didn’t hesitate, moving deeper into the room, drawing Asharru with him. He glanced around, his sharp eyes narrowing on first one individual and then another.

  A large male with a square jaw, thick neck, and shoulders sculpted with powerful muscles glowered back at Tirigan. This fellow was a pureblood gryphon, or if not pure, then possessing only a tiny bit of human blood.

  Swinging her gaze to a second figure stepping up behind the male, Asharru studied a woman of pale-skinned foreigner stock. Like Laliya, she was probably descended from an ancestor whose ship had run aground on one of the reefs surrounding the island chain.

  Despite her long blonde hair and pale skin that looked to bruise easily, she was tall and well-muscled, no delicate creature in need of sheltering. Though next to the big brute, she almost looked dainty and feminine. But by the way her eyes tracked and missed nothing, and the way others seemed to defer to her, she was a leader as much as the big male.

  Tirigan took a step toward the leaders. “I am called Tirigan. Recently I was a slave like you.”

  “You don’t look like a slave,” the woman said as she took in Tirigan’s garrison guard fringed robe and weapons.

  He shrugged. “As one of Governor Ugurnaszir’s favorite pleasure slaves, I got good at playing roles a long time ago.”

  Many murmuring voices filled the quiet for several moments before another stranger came up to them to circle Tirigan. This fellow was of average height, but slender.

  “I recognize him,” the man said, projecting his words so the others around the chamber could hear. “My old master used to get invited to the Governor’s parties. This man speaks the truth about who he is.”

  “And I promise you, every other word I speak to you shall always be the truth, though they might test the realms of believability.” Tirigan turned and gestured for Asharru to come forward. “This woman has granted me my freedom, and she will grant you that as well if you will only hear her out.”

  The first male approached and after studying Asharru from her sandals to her bead-tipped braids, he arched a brow. “What reason can a noblewoman have for freeing slaves?”

  Asharru kept her expression neutral as she answered. “The simple reason I deplore slavery and believe every person is born equal.”

  The man arched a brow but didn’t seem overly convinced. “Doesn’t mean we should just trust you.”

  Tirigan, having grown impatient, drew himself up and addressed everyone in the room. “Asharru’s mother was a slave like us. Her father met that woman, fell in love, and made her his queen.”

  Silence echoed heavily in the air.

  “Queen?” The first male whispered, his expression of doubt transforming to a look of shock as he studied Asharru.

  While the slaves might not have had an opportunity to ever see Asharru in person before, her description and paintings of her likeness would be making rounds throughout all the city-states.

  “My friends, my future family,” Tirigan said, his voice ringing with pride, conviction, and some other emotion she couldn’t place, “meet Crown Princess Asharru, daughter of a slave and future queen of all New Sumer.”

  Asharru nodded to them as one by one each person gazed upon her in disbelief. While they were still stunned, Tirigan continued his story.

  “Crown Princess Asharru is like her brother and wishes to carry out his legacy of seeing an end to slavery upon New Sumer’s shores. But it is not an easy task, and she faces many obstacles.”

  Asharru interrupted Tirigan at that point. “It is a good thing our great goddess Ishtar has seen fit to bless New Sumer with a Blade for the first time in many generations.”

  Tirigan glanced at her. She nodded and held out her hand. They’d already decided showing his tattoo to the slaves would be far less threatening than drawing his crystalline blade and waving it around.

  He unbuckled his sword belt and handed it to her. Then he swiftly pulled his robe over his head. Standing in his loincloth, he turned and presented his back, displaying the tattoo of Ishtar.

  She and Tirigan had already talked of revealing what he was to the slaves. They’d both agreed it needed to be at the beginning of their relationship with these people.

  If they wanted to gain the slave’s trust, there could be no lies.

  Seventeen faces looked on with varying degrees of stunned disbelief. After a moment, a few glanced around at the others. The big muscled man Asharru had pegged as one of the leaders took a cautious step forward and then another until he was standing at arm’s length, studying the tattoo.

  Then in a move that surprised Asharru, though didn’t seem to startle her Blade, the man took hold of Tirigan’s shoulder and shifted him until his back was lit by one of the wall torches. After a slight hesitation, the male reached out and swiped a thumb across the tattoo, checking to see if it was painted.

  At the touch, the tattoo glowed briefly before fading. The man jerked back in surprise. It startled Asharru as well. She stepped closer to the man. That the tattoo flared suggested this male descended from one of the gryphon lines possessing magic. “Do you know your lineage?”

  The male looked at her sharply and then bowed to her. He answered in a solemn voice. “Pirates stole me when I was a child. All I remember from that time is that my mother and father were a priestess and priest of Ishtar before they were killed.”

  “Stand,” Asharru said in a calm voice that was at odds with the rage she felt for what he’d likely suffered. “No words can take away all the hurt and heartache you’ve suffered these long years, but I promise you, I shall do all in my power to stop what happened to you from happening to another child.”

  The male nodded.

  Tirigan continued his tale, describing how she’d rescued him, giving him his freedom, and then offered him two choices: a life of safety far from his old master, or one of great power and influence.

  “That was even before she knew I was her Blade. Now she wishes to continue to liberate the enslaved of New Sumer and offer them a place in her court if they so wish.”

  “I am called Burrakurin.” The big male dropped to his knees between Tirigan and Asharru. “I freely offer to serve you both in whatever way I can. Even as a slave, I honored Ishtar as often as I could. She has heard my prayers and answered at last.”

  Tirigan nodded to the male and then turned to study the rest of the gathering. “Crown Princess Asharru is here to offer you each the same choice. You may take as long as you need to decide.”

  A shift of movement just behind the still kneeling Burrakurin drew Asharru’s attention back to the blonde woman.

  She stepped forward and met Asharru’s gaze boldly. “I always thought the tale of the king and his slave was a story we whispered to our children to give them hope of a better future. I thought it cruel to give false hope. But it was the truth all along.”

  The blonde-haired woman still looked mildly stunned by the recent turn of events, but there was sharp intelligence in her gaze.

  “I’m beginning to understand what you must have faced and overcome while growing up. You survived all the scheming nobles, ambitious governors, and traitorous assassins only to grow stronger from those attacks. You didn’t break or bend to their will. I respect that
and will gladly aid you in whatever way I can.”

  The woman dropped to her knees and bowed her head as Burrakurin had done earlier. “I am Zinura, and I thank you for granting me my freedom. You have my loyalty in this life and the next.”

  Asharru might not be able to read a person’s emotions in the same way her Blade could, but even she could sense the truth and conviction behind the woman’s words.

  “I thank you.” Asharru glanced to Burrakurin. “I thank you both. But there are many things we must talk of before oaths of loyalty are required. First, though, why don’t we move to someplace warmer than the cellars?”

  Asharru glanced toward Kuri. “By chance is there any secret passageways between the cellars and another part of the palace? I would like to house our new guests in the old garrison wing but still make the cellars accessible to them since the unused wing is too close to other inhabited parts of the palace for secret sword practices. The cellars and the lower levels would be much better for those activities.”

  Kuri’s frown deepened, and she muttered about how secret passageways would no longer be secret with a herd of people using them daily, but in a clear voice she just said, “I think something can be arranged, Crown Princess.”

  Asharru grinned at her friend. “Thank you.”

  Then she turned to Tirigan. “I suppose I need to appear at court so the nobles can see I’m alive and well and still in command. I would like my Blade to be at my side.”

  Tirigan grinned, the light of merriment reaching his eyes. “I shall be most happy to use my sword to keep them at bay for however long you like.”

  “Good. I might just take you up on your offer.”

  Chapter 8

  “I look like a fool,” Tirigan muttered as he plucked at his ceremonial garb, drawing Asharru’s attention to him. Bashaa tried to keep a straight face as he adjusted the outfit. “We’ve been forced to wear less and worse.”

  Asharru feared Tirigan’s glower might cause her newest councilor to burst into flames on the spot. But after a moment, Tirigan returned his gaze to the mirror to take in the full effect of the golden, gem-encrusted torc and matching arm and ankle bands before plucking at the golden fringed fabric wrapping him from waist to knees.

  Next, his hands settled on the matching ornate weapons belt for a moment before drifting down to stroke the line of feathers sewn into the waist of his garment. His expression softened as his fingers traced along one long crimson and black banded feather as if her gifts touched him.

  The sacrifice of a couple dozen feathers was in no way as great as what he’d given her in return but seeing him reverently stroking the feathers was exceptionally pleasing to her gryphon.

  His gaze met hers in the mirror and his lips twisted into a crooked smile.

  “I still look foolish,” he grumbled.

  Many words came to mind as he turned toward her—exotic, stunning, breathtaking, striking—foolish wasn’t one of them.

  “No one will think my Blade is anything other than magnificent.”

  As he moved, his muscles flexing beneath his warm brown skin, he drew her eye and that of her beast.

  “I told you that you don’t have to wear the ceremonial garb.”

  Tirigan grunted in response and rolled his shoulders. “It will have the desired effect of shutting up the nobles while you explain what’s occurred.”

  While what he said might be true, that didn’t mean it was the only option. “I don’t want you to feel that you must do something you don’t want simply because tradition dictates you must. When I granted you your freedom, I meant in all ways.”

  He strode over to her and stepped in close, placing his hands on her shoulders. Then he surprised her by leaning forward until he pressed their foreheads together.

  “And I thank you daily for that, but I am fine wearing one more costume if it serves a higher purpose and this does.” He leaned back, that easy smile of his back in place and charming her out of any arguments she might have planned. “Now go put on that golden dress you picked out and we can make a show to stun the nobles and governors of New Sumer.”

  With a chuckle, she studied him again with a critical eye. “It doesn’t matter how much finery my servants dress me in, you’ll still outshine me, my breathtaking Blade.”

  Tirigan snorted again. “I think you might suffer from poor sight, my Lady.”

  “Only because my eyes are blinded by your beauty,” she retorted as she walked toward where a few of her most trusted, and thoroughly vetted, servants were waiting to finish her makeup and hair.

  Eventually, both she and Tirigan were ready, and no longer had any excuse to avoid court.

  ***

  Asharru stopped at the threshold of the great hall and surveyed the room. So far no one had yet noticed her. Though that was likely because she’d called ahead to inform the guards on duty she didn’t want her arrival announced. She wanted the rare occasion to study her court.

  More nobles than usual packed the floor.

  Her court had swelled in the last few days as governors from the various city-states had arrived for her coronation. Some she recognized. Others she hadn’t yet setup formal introductions, so would have to tread carefully or risk showing her ignorance of their identities.

  But she would learn all their names and their motives and allegiances. What she couldn’t unearth, her Blade would sniff out.

  As the nobles milled about, conversing among themselves, she could guess some of what they discussed.

  Though there would be much she could not even guess at, schemes and plots and future intrigues designed to gain her ear or force her cooperation. But she was about to throw their carefully laid plans into disarray.

  “Ah, look at that pit of vipers,” Bashaa muttered softly to Laliya. “I look forward to slaying a few of their plans.”

  Laliya laughed in wicked delight and Asharru fought to keep her lips from turning up in humor. She needed to keep her queen’s mask in place. Showing her court she was just a mortal woman like any other would embolden them.

  “Shall we?” she asked Tirigan.

  He nodded and drew his crystalline blade. While they’d not wanted to cause fear in the newly freed slaves, instilling a little healthy fear in the heart of her court might just be the thing needed. There’d been too many betrayals. Every member of her court would have to prove their loyalty to her and the kingdom before she’d trust any of them.

  “Swords out!” Tirigan called to the other guards. Then he took a step ahead of her—a Blade’s privilege he had no hesitation in using—and started into the hall. “Make way for Crown Princess Asharru. Make way!”

  Her Blade soon had shocked nobles scrambling out of his path.

  Asharru followed him, her cold queen’s mask in place as she made her way up the center of the hall. She looked neither left nor right as she made her way toward the throne and the flanking chairs for the council members. Anyone deemed too near her person was shoved aside by one of her guards.

  Usually, she wouldn’t have condoned the rough handling of any person, but after all that had happened, she was at the end of her patience with scheming nobles. It was time they learned to serve something greater than their own greed and ambition.

  When she reached the throne, she settled herself and looked out at the sea of humans and gryphons looking back at her.

  “Yesterday traitors to New Sumer and Ishtar tried to gain control of the throne by abducting me and attempting to force a male not of my choosing to sire the next generation of royal blood.” Asharru allowed a hint of her great displeasure to enter her eyes and steal across her features. “They failed.”

  When she fell silent, there wasn’t so much as a whisper of conversation.

  “As you can imagine, this has displeased my Blade and guards greatly. I have granted them unparalleled powers to hunt down and capture the traitors and those working with them. Several conspirators have already been apprehended. It is only a matter of time before we find and ex
ecute the rest.”

  A nervous shift flowed through the room.

  Yes, you should be nervous even if all you planned was to steal more power for yourself. My Blade and I will root out all forms of corruption.

  When she fell silent again, one of the boldest nobles worked his way to the front of the crowd.

  “Crown Princess Asharru, I am relieved you have escaped unharmed. May I ask the names of the traitors so I know if I must search within my own ranks for more of their kind?”

  Asharru studied his clothing and its coloring since she didn’t recognize him. A governor she’d guess, and to judge by his colors, either the governor of Kish or Lagash. Both islands wore ocean toned blues as their House colors.

  A closer look showed a line of small, delicate dolphin motifs beaded just above the fringe of his robe’s hem. He belonged to Kish then.

  “Governor Gishkim, the traitors did not hail from your fair city-state. However, make a thorough search of your ranks, regardless. These traitors have infiltrated into the highest levels. Even my own council.”

  She shushed the room when voices rose in shocked disbelief and denial. “I assure you. There were indeed traitors that high in my court. Councilor Ekurzakir and his daughter, Nuannin, concocted the plan to abduct me. Even Nutesh wasn’t safe from his father’s plans and betrayals and was abducted along with me. His father drugged him to serve his plans, and after he’d sired a litter of cubs upon me, Ekurzakir planned to slit his own son’s throat. I heard that filth exit Ekurzakir’s mouth with my own ears.”

  The room was silent, even the rustle of fabric was absent. She could have been presiding over a court of statues.

  “Ekurzakir’s plan failed.” She allowed her eyes to track toward her Blade. She’d let the nobles think Tirigan had come to her rescue. It would help build his reputation, which could only strengthen the aura of protection around the throne. “Ekurzakir’s daughter is dead. Many of his men captured. It is only a matter of time before my Blade presents me with the traitor’s head.”