The Queen's Assassin

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The Queen's Assassin Page 12

by William King


  Deakan stared at him, his face a study in horror and despair. The situation of a few moments ago was reversed. Sardec briefly considered discharging his pistol into the air, of saying blood had been drawn and honour satisfied. Anger grabbed his heart then, and he shook his head. This offal had tried to kill him, and would have done so, if his aim had not been so bad. Slowly and very carefully Sardec raised his pistol, aiming it right between the eyes that held his gaze. He squeezed the trigger. A flower of blood bloomed on Deakan's forehead, and he fell backwards, dead.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rik strode into Asea’s chamber. “You wanted to see me?”

  The sorceress looked up from the manuscript she was writing. “We have another invitation this evening. Lord Elakar is throwing a ball.” Asea looked strangely pleased.

  “A ball?”

  “It’s for the new Sardean Ambassador. Everyone will be there.”

  “We are entertaining Ambassadors from the Dark Empire?”

  “Diplomacy goes on even when we are at war, Rik.”

  “So I am starting to notice.”

  “Channels of communication must be kept open. It’s only civilised.”

  Rik made a face. “How are your lessons going with Karim?”

  “He has been lecturing me about using your opponent’s strength against him. He says that most people facing me with a blade will be overconfident, and that I can use that to my advantage.” Rik had a feeling that Asea knew what Karim had told him already. She was merely testing him.

  “The same is true in many things, Rik. You would do well to remember that.”

  “I will do my best.”

  “I have sent for a tailor,” she said. “He shall see you are suitably dressed for tonight’s gala.”

  “I already have more clothes than I have ever had in my life.”

  “You can never have too many clothes, Rik. That’s one of the first laws of being an Aristal.”

  “I suppose we must look our best for our enemies.”

  “Indeed we must.” She smiled enigmatically again. What was going on here, he wondered? What did she know that he did not? He knew better than to ask.

  Sweet music drifted from the chamber, echoing under the huge vaulted ceiling and swirling through the long tiled corridors. Uniformed officers, civil servants in their gold-braided court best and women in long evening gowns drifted under the sorcerous chandeliers as if propelled by the sounds. Lord Elakar had selected a particularly nice mansion for himself - just behind the parliament building. The previous occupiers were in Sardea, along with Prince Khaldarus. Apparently the redistribution of property had already begun.

  The General sat apart from his guests and received them from a throne that was worthy of a king. It was as if he, and not Kathea, was soon to be crowned ruler of Kharadrea. Perhaps he believed in a way that he was. If he knew he was giving offence to the locals, he did not seem aware of the fact.

  Rik moved through the crowd, listening to the buzz of conversation.

  “It’s amazing that they have the gall to come here,” said one tall Terrarch beauty to her officer companion. "After supporting the enemies of the Queen.”

  “Hush,” said her companion, an officer in the uniform of one of the Kharadrean Guard regiments. “They are entitled to be here.” He noticed Rik listening and added. “Even if they are the enemy.”

  The objects of all the attention moved across the floor. One was a tall dark Terrarch, garbed in a dark blue court uniform and high leather boots. He was possessed of both languid beauty and aristocratic hauteur. He smiled pleasantly as if he was either unaware or did not care about all the eyes upon them.

  The female Terrarch beside him looked surprisingly young. She did not have the polished ageless gleam of most of their women. Her smile had dimples. Her eyes were wide. Her hair was golden and did not look dyed. Her white dress braided with gold made her look spectacular and innocent, an impression Rik knew was all too deceptive. The last time he had seen Tamara she had been dressed as a man and hanging out in a low dive in the town of Morven. He suspected that she had tried and very nearly succeeded at having him assassinated by a near unstoppable undead monster. He was not sure what her reason had been for that, but he could easily find it in himself to resent it.

  “What is the governor thinking?” asked another Terrarch woman, her hair silver, her clothing in the same style as some pictures Rik had seen that he knew to be over five centuries old.

  “They came with credentials from the Queen Empress,” said a Terrarch male, garbed in the court uniform of the same generation. “They are her Ambassadors. Or so I heard.”

  “Spies more like,” said the woman, but she sounded thoughtful. Like every Terrarch with any involvement in politics, which was to say all of them, she obviously knew the importance of keeping channels open.

  “I think it’s rather pleasant that we still observe the old diplomatic protocols and courtesies. Too many of the younger generation have forgotten them in this damn civil war.”

  “I suppose she is the daughter of Lord Malkior. He was a most charming gentleman. I remember him well from the Old Queen’s court. It’s a pity that time ever ended.”

  To listen to her, you would never have thought that the time had ended with the Old Queen’s assassination and a civil war that had split the Terrarch Imperium. They were still trying to unravel the consequences of those events today. Most people saw the present war as a simple continuation of the Schism.

  He made his way back over to Asea. She was smiling. She knew as well as he did that this pair had tried and almost succeeded in having them both killed by sorcery of the foulest sort, and yet she looked only mildly amused by the sight of them.

  “I trust you have noticed who just entered,” she said. Her voice too was cool and amused. “Our old friends, the Lord Jaderac and the Lady Tamara.” As ever Rik wondered just how much Asea knew about him and Tamara. Tamara had offered him a great deal to kill Asea, which was a fact he had never yet reported to his patron.

  “I don’t see how I could have failed to. Everyone is talking about them.”

  “They do seem to have caused quite a stir.”

  “Why have they not been arrested? A lot of people here seem to think it a good idea.”

  “Lord Jaderac is the emissary of the Queen Empress of Sardea, and one of her favoured lovers. Tamara is the daughter of her former Chancellor. You don’t lock up people like that, Rik. You entertain them.”

  “They would make very good hostages.”

  “I suspect the Queen Empress is aware of that, and so is Tamara’s father. However they are here under diplomatic protection. Nothing untoward will happen to them.”

  “Accidents happen.” She looked at him and smiled again.

  “I am afraid your bad blood is showing, Rik.”

  “I find it very difficult to forgive people who have tried to kill me.”

  “I fear it's something you had best get used to. Oh look, I see Lord and Lady Sardontine. They are coming this way. She seems pleased to see you.”

  Rik bowed to the couple as they approached. Moments later, the Lord was deeply engaged in conversation with Asea and he found himself circulating with his wife.

  Much to his surprise Rik found himself face to face with Tamara. As he mingled with the crowd Lady Sardontine brought her over to introduce them. Tamara smiled as if they had never met before.

  “I have heard a great deal about your heroism,” she said, the very picture of empty-headed innocence. “And your triumph over the demons unleashed by that wicked old sorcerer Lord Ilmarec. You must tell me about it.”

  “Our young hero is very modest about such things,” said Lady Sardontine, placing a proprietorial hand on Rik’s arm. Tamara’s smile widened a fraction when she noticed that.

  “I have a lot to be modest about,” said Rik. Both of them laughed as if they did not really agree with that statement.

  “I confess I was amazed at the way you destroyed the Tow
er,” said Tamara. “I have never quite seen anything like it. It was an awesome sight - the way it lifted on a column of fire and disappeared into the storm clouds.”

  Lady Sardontine gaped at her. “You were there?”

  “Lord Jaderac and I were paying our respects to Lord Ilmarec at the Serpent Tower only a few hours before it happened.”

  Lord Jaderac and Tamara had been trying to persuade the ancient sorcerer to throw in his lot with the Dark Empress.

  “You were greatly missed when Lord Azaar’s army marched into Morven,” said Rik maliciously.

  “Lord Jaderac had urgent business elsewhere. I would have been delighted to stay and pay my respects to Lord Azaar, but of course, I had to go with his Lordship. He commanded our bodyguard, after all, and he’s so very...well...commanding.”

  There was a twinkle in Tamara’s eye. She was mocking him and Lord Jaderac and letting him know it. Lady Sardontine must have noticed it. Her face was a frozen mask.

  “There was a lot of impressive sorcery at that time,” he said, thinking of the Nerghul that had almost killed him. “We must talk about that too.”

  “I don’t know a great deal about such things. Magic is much more Lord Jaderac’s province than my own. I am sure he would be delighted to talk to you about it.”

  Rik had seen her work sorcery with his own eyes. He decided not to mention this for the time being.

  “I would much rather talk about less disturbing things like that beautiful new uniform you are wearing. Was it a gift from Lady Asea?”

  What else could it be? He did not have a great deal of money of his own. “Indeed,” he said. Tamara giggled. “She is very generous. You look very handsome in it.”

  The conjunction of the two statements held an obvious implication, but the way she said it made the connection seem almost accidental. Lady Sardontine looked at her sharply, suspecting there was more to Tamara than met the eye, then she glanced aside. Her husband was beckoning to her from across the room. “If you will excuse me for a moment,” she said, and departed, leaving Rik confronting Tamara.

  “Believe it or not, I am actually glad to see you are still alive,” she said. Her expression was still vacuous for the benefit of those watching them, but her tone of voice was not.

  “I do find that a little hard to believe,” he said. She took no offence but snapped open her fan and covered her dimpled smile with it.

  “How did you get out of the Tower? I am genuinely interested.”

  “I flew,” he said.

  “You seem to be doing a lot of that. I heard about your trip in the balloon. Whatever will you be doing next?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. What brings you to this place?”

  “Lord Jaderac is Her Majesty’s emissary. I am here to assist him in any way I can. My position is somewhat secretarial, don’t you know.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “You are just full of doubts this evening, Sir Rik.”

  “Under the circumstances can you blame me?”

  “Not in the slightest.” Rik found himself answering her smile with one of his own. The problem with Tamara was that whatever she had done, he liked her. That was a dangerous feeling.

  “Are you still dressing up and hanging around in low taverns?”

  “That’s a very ungallant thing for you to mention at a gathering like this.”

  “I am a very ungallant man,” he said.

  “I suppose you are. I find that an attractive quality. Every male at court needs to present himself as the soul of honour. It can be very tedious.”

  The music started again. “Shall we dance?” she asked.

  “Why not,” he said. He took her by the hand and led her out onto the floor.

  Lieutenant Sardec moved walked over to Lady Asea. He was in no mood for dancing and he had no desire to join in the gossip of his fellow officers. He did not know what drew him to Asea - he had always found her very intimidating - but they had shared a strange intimacy ever since that night in Morven when they had watched the Serpent Tower vanish. Also he thought she might want to talk about the new arrivals. Perhaps she could tell him something about the ghoul disease, although it seemed a little less worrying now. The surgeon had checked him again, and decided that there was almost no chance of him having it. It was the almost that made Sardec nervous.

  He saw that Asea was staring out onto the dance floor watching her protégé and Lady Tamara dance. They were an interesting looking couple and they danced very well. Someone had given the half-breed excellent training in the courtly skills but he supposed that was only to be expected from Lady Asea.

  “Good evening, Lieutenant,” she said as he took his place beside her. She had not looked in his direction. It was a sorcerer’s trick she had.

  “Good evening, Milady.”

  “I trust you have not come to ask for a dance.”

  “I find it difficult with this hook, Milady. It keeps getting caught in the sleeves of dresses.” She looked at him sidelong.

  “I am sorry, Lieutenant, that was tactless of me.”

  “No. It was tactless of me.”

  “Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

  “I see you are looking at Lady Tamara and your companion.”

  “That’s very observant of you.”

  Was she jealous? Sardec wondered. It did not seem very likely that this potent ancient would be subject to such emotions. He supposed it was always possible. There was a certain intensity in her gaze as she looked at the couple. The force of it made him look more closely as well. They were a striking duo. There was no way you could spot any of the human blood in the half-breed. He looked every inch the Terrarch - quite as much as Lady Tamara who was the daughter of one of the highest nobles of the oldest bloodlines. Indeed when you looked at them, they looked quite similar. Their faces were the same shape, their cheekbones the same size. They were both equally striking.

  “You are quite correct,” she said thoughtfully, and Sardec realised he had been speaking his thoughts out loud. “There is a strange similarity between them.”

  Her tone was more thoughtful than ever. Definitely jealous, Sardec thought, surprised.

  “I hear you have been fighting duels, Lieutenant.”

  “Word certainly spreads fast.”

  “This one has caused quite a scandal. Rumour has it a human lady was the cause of the affair.” Sardec did not blush. He was proud of that.

  “It was.”

  “Be careful, Lieutenant, such a thing will make you many enemies.”

  “I mean no offence, Lady Asea, but my life is my own to live.”

  “That it is. I rather admire you for it.”

  Sardec sensed that for reasons of her own, Asea wanted to be his friend. Under the present circumstances he was glad someone did. His reception at the regiment had held an odd mixture of respect, admiration and contempt. His fellow officers seemed to feel that at the same time as he was upholding the honour of the regiment by winning his duel, he was letting them down by the cause of it. It was one thing to have a human mistress. It was another to flaunt the fact so openly.

  He told himself that he did not care, but the sad truth was that he was affected by it. How many of the people around him knew about the business, he wondered, and how many of them despised him for it. Asea smiled, as if she knew what he was thinking. It was very disconcerting.

  Rik found himself holding Tamara close as the dance moved from the handholding part of the sequence to something more intimate. His hand was on her back. Hers rested on his shoulder. She was exceptionally light on her feet. She kept smiling as they moved around and round, orbiting other dancers on the floor.

  “You dance well,” she said.

  “So do you.”

  “Someone has been teaching you the graces.”

  “A lot of people have.”

  “You have become quite an important person you know.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “You are using th
e doubt word again.”

  “I thought I was the one who was supposed to flatter you.”

  “This is not flattery, Rik, simply a statement of fact. Powerful people have been impressed by you. My father for one.”

  “You have spoken to him?”

  “I did not waste the summer campaigning with the army if that is what you mean. I suspect I would have found it very dreary.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I travelled to Harven. I talked with my father. I told him about your exploits.”

  “Did you tell him about sending your pet undead monster after me?”

  “I did.” He was surprised. He had expected her to deny that.

  “What did he say?”

  “You control your anger very well.”

  “Your father is a perceptive man.”

  “He did not say that, as you well know, I was talking to you.”

  “You sense that I am angry. That’s very perceptive.”

  “The Nerghul was not aimed at you, Rik. It was aimed at Asea.”

  “I just happened to be in the way.”

  “Something like that.” His arm tightened around her. He half-wished it was his hand on her throat.

  “You will forgive me if I take that personally,” he said.

  “I would not expect anything else. You must realise that there is a war on. Your patron is a very dangerous woman.”

  “I know - she practises the evil arts of black sorcery,” said Rik. “So unlike your friend Lord Jaderac. And yourself.”

  “I have told you this before, Rik. You have no idea who you are dealing with. Asea is ancient and evil and powerful beyond belief. She killed the Old Queen. She has killed many others. There is no limit to her ambition.”

 

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