Kerra gasped at his rudeness, but Shamsara smiled, as if expecting it. "Ah, Conash, you still have not forgiven me. It is time you did."
"Why?"
"You will feel better."
"You had no right."
"I had no choice."
Blade gestured. "Well, here I am, doing as you predicted."
"This is only a part of it, a small one for a man of your talents."
"What do you mean?"
"It pains me to make more demands of you, when you so clearly resent what little has already been asked of you. Yet I must. Your destiny shines in my visions like a beacon, impossible to ignore. I had hoped you would realise what was needed of you on your own, but clearly you will not." He paused, eyeing the assassin. "You must go to Cotti and find Kerrion's wife." Shamsara glanced at Kerra, then back at Blade. "Restore her to Kerrion, and do as she bids you."
Blade threw back his head and burst out laughing. Kerra stared at him in confusion and surprise, shooting a glance at Shamsara, who watched the assassin with a gentle smile. Annoyed at being so left out of the conversation, Kerra addressed the Idol of the Beasts.
"It is more important that Blade protect me, Idol. Kerrion will doubtless find his wife."
Shamsara shook his head. "No, he will not, young Kerra. She will die, and Kerrion will go mad with grief. After murdering his brothers, he will fall on his sword, and his kingdom will pass to his half-brother Jovan, brother to Lerton."
Blade sobered, his brow furrowing. "What of Kerrion's sons?"
"An unfortunate accident, arranged by Dravis."
"The war will start again."
Shamsara nodded.
"Damn you and your bloody predictions!" Blade snarled. "Why must it always be me?"
"You are the instrument."
"I am the damned pawn! I am the one who gets kicked around, mauled by dogs, punched in the face and chased by Cotti." He swung away, paced in an agitated circle and confronted the Idol again, tapping his chest. "I am the one who must risk his life. Always me! Why do you not go and pick on someone else? I am doing enough, playing nursemaid to a spoilt child."
Shamsara shook his head. "Sir Raylin and Sir Favan are dead. Kerrion's wife suffers hunger and humiliation, as well as loneliness and anguish. Kerrion drives himself to exhaustion, and Chiana is being tortured even as we speak. Are you sure you are the only one to suffer, Conash?"
"Chiana!" Kerra gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth in horror.
Blade's eyes narrowed. "So, they have all fallen foul of each other's plotting. It is not my problem."
"Come now, you know that is not true."
"It is! If you had not meddled sixteen years ago, none of this would be happening."
The Idol inclined his head. "True. And the war would still be raging."
"I do not care."
"I know. But I am not asking you to do it for nothing."
"There is nothing I want." Blade glared at Shamsara, his nostrils flaring. "The princes will not die, will they?"
"Not if Kerrion's wife is saved. Your former apprentice will fail, but that is as much of that future as I can see at the moment. The course is far worse."
"It is not worth it." Blade shook his head. "Besides, if what you say is true, I could go to Jadaya and kill the bastards myself."
"I have wondered why you have not, considering your hatred for them."
"Kerrion would be blamed. Or Chiana. The other princes would manufacture proof of their guilt."
Shamsara smiled. "But you do not care." The Idol raised his hand as Blade opened his mouth to argue. "I am not offering you the princes' lives, that is not within my power."
"Then what?"
"Something that you lost a long time ago."
Blade frowned. "You will have to be a little more specific."
"I am not called the Idol of the Beasts for nothing. That is within my power."
"What is?"
The Idol smiled. "Come now, Conash, do not pretend to be dense. I know full well that you are not."
Blade studied the old man, only the twitching of a muscle in his jaw betraying his tension. His eyes slid away, becoming blank, as if he gazed into a memory so painful that he had not dared to dwell upon it for a long time.
"If you mean what I think you mean, it is impossible. So is what you are asking, especially with a young girl in my charge."
Shamsara shook his head. "No, you can do it, although it is not certain. We stand at a place where the paths of future diverge, descending into war if you fail, or continuing in peace if you succeed."
"And what are you offering, exactly?"
"Rivan."
Blade shook his head. "Impossible."
Kerra glanced from one to the other, puzzled. "Who is Rivan?"
Shamsara smiled at her. "Conash's familiar."
"He is dead!" Blade snarled.
"At the moment."
"Even you cannot bring back the dead, Shamsara. You lie!"
The Idol looked offended. "I never lie, Conash. Every beast and person is reborn into this world. They do not stay in the Everlasting. I am willing to pray to Tinsharon for Rivan's rebirth now, and to lead him to you when he is born."
"Pray to Tinsharon." Blade's lip curled at the idea.
"I know you have no faith, but he does listen to me on occasion."
"That is like saying you will go digging for gold with which to pay me. What if he does not do as you ask?"
The Idol looked serene. "He will, if you succeed."
"No one has ever been reunited with a familiar that died. If they are reborn, why is that so?"
"Normally I do not meddle, and the reborn have no memory of their past life, so they do not seek their former friend. Only if I bring him to you, will he recognise you. Also, much time must pass between their death and rebirth, by which time their human companion is often dead or aged. To reunite a young familiar with an old companion would condemn the beast to suffer when its friend dies. In your case, three and thirty years have passed since you lost Rivan, but you were just a boy then, so you still have many years before you."
Blade ran a hand over his hair, clearly agitated. He glanced at the Queen, then took her arm and guided her to the edge of the forest. There he stopped and pointed at a distant log visible through the trees, but well out of earshot.
"You see that log over there?"
"Yes."
"Go and sit on it."
Kerra opened her mouth to argue, but his chill glance made her close it with a snap and flounce away.
Blade waited until Kerra was out of earshot, then walked back to the Idol. "Why are you doing this to me?"
Shamsara sighed, reaching up to stroke the adder that was coiled around his neck. "Because only you can do what is needed, Conash."
"And what exactly would that be?"
"Use your special talents and skills to find Minna-Satu. Kerrion has searched every possible hiding place within two tendays ride of Jadaya, and now he waits and hopes that Chaymin's familiar will lead him to her."
Blade shook his head. "Trelath would not have taken her more than a couple of day's ride from Jadaya. Do you know where she is?"
"Not exactly. I only know that my visions become worse as Kerrion waits, which means that Chaymin's familiar will not lead him to her."
"Kerrion is no fool. How could he have missed her?"
Shamsara spread his hands. "I do not know."
"And what do I do once I have found her?"
"She will tell you."
"I am sentenced to death in Cotti."
The Idol nodded. "But right now, Jashimari is a more dangerous place. They are not searching for you in Cotti."
"I had considered that, but it is safe in Dramali."
"That is why I had to come and tell you to find her. If you had gone to Cotti of your own volition, to escape the troops searching for you here, fate would have led you to the Queen. But when you slipped through the Cotti net, I knew you would not go."
"And that is when you concocted your story to persuade me to do this. You knew I would not, otherwise."
The Idol stepped closer and placed a hand on Blade's shoulder, ignoring the assassin's glower. "That was when I decided to offer you the chance to regain your familiar. You lost the three most important things to a man, when you were just a boy. I cannot restore the other two, but I can bring Rivan back to you.
"You were tempered by cruelty to make you what you are, and I regret that I must make you earn the return of something that was taken from you so harshly. It does seem doubly cruel, and I wish I could simply pray for Rivan's return without asking anything of you. But I knew you would not do this for anything less, and it must be done."
"Kerrion found my sister to pay for Ronan's death, and she was killed."
Shamsara shook his head. "I know. But you will not lose Rivan again, I swear."
Blade shrugged off the Idol's hand and moved away. "Even if I believed you, which I do not, I am not fit enough for such an undertaking."
"There is a good healer in Dramali, her name is Crella. Seek her out."
The assassin rubbed his aching ribs and glanced at the distant Queen sitting on the log. Shamsara followed his gaze and smiled.
"Remarkable. She obeys you, even though it humiliates her."
"She is arrogant. And taking her to Cotti would put her in grave danger."
"Yes, but if you do not save Minna-Satu, Kerra will also perish in the turmoil that will follow Kerrion's death, as will your wife."
Blade frowned. "What is Endor doing to her?"
"Not too much as yet, but it will grow worse, and it will only end when Minna is restored to Kerrion."
"What will happen to Endor?"
"He will be ordered to return to Cotti, where Kerrion will wreak such vengeance as he can upon him and Trelath, perhaps Chaymin, too."
"And Dravis?"
Shamsara shook his head. "Oh no, Dravis is too clever to show his hand until the other players have shown theirs. At the moment, he is blameless."
Blade gazed into the forest, pondering. "I could leave Kerra here."
"No, you must take her with you."
"Why? She is a burden. She will slow me down."
"She may help you, too."
"How?"
The Idol smiled. "Soon, she will find her familiar."
"Something useful, is it?"
"Very."
"If I find Minna-Satu, Kerra will find out that her mother lives."
Shamsara nodded. "I think it is time she did. She is old enough to keep the secret upon her return to Jashimari, and I think it will do her good to meet Minna-Satu."
"Probably. It amazes me that Minna's life with Kerrion has remained a secret all these years."
"That is mostly due to your account of Minna's death. Rumours have circulated from time to time, but Chiana refuses to believe them, and has even threatened to have the liars punished. To say such a thing has become tantamount to heresy, and no one dares to spread such tales anymore."
Blade sighed, then smiled. "You are sending me on a fool's errand, Idol, but Minna-Satu sent me on worse in the past. Perhaps you know I will not live to discover your lie, so you make me this insane promise to restore Rivan to me. After all, you are a seer."
"I do not see all things, nor as clearly as you think. Yes, there is a chance that you may die, but if you live, I will restore Rivan to you. I swear it."
The assassin chuckled. "A simple job, this. Take the heir to the Jashimari throne to Cotti, and protect her from harm in a patriarchal society where young girls are snatched from their fathers' fortified harems. Find the Queen, who even the Cotti King cannot find in his own land, and restore her to him, while protecting her from a mad prince. It is impossible. No wonder you promise me the impossible as payment."
"It is possible, but only you can do it."
"Then I shall." Blade stepped closer to glare into the Idol's eyes. "And I will return to see that you keep your promise, old man."
"I am counting on it." The Idol of the Beasts smiled, his eyes filled with the wisdom of the ages, and laid a hand upon the assassin's shoulder once more. Blade glanced at it in annoyance, but Shamsara removed it before he could shrug it off.
"Good luck." Shamsara turned and walked away, and the forest swallowed him up as if by magic.
Blade stared after him, then went to the log where Kerra waited. She jumped up at his approach, scanning the trees behind him with hopeful eyes.
"Where is Shamsara?"
"Gone."
"But I wanted to speak to him."
"Maybe that is why he left."
Kerra headed towards the trees with a determined air, but he took hold of her arm and swung her around, wincing as his ribs protested.
"You will not find him. Come, I have much to do."
She pouted, but followed him across the fields towards the city, trotting to keep up. "You are going to do as he asked?"
"Yes."
"Will it not be dangerous?"
"Yes."
"But what about me?"
He shot her a frown. "You are coming too."
She fell silent for a while, then asked, "Do you really think he can give you back your familiar?"
"I intend to find out."
"And if he cannot?"
"Then he will answer to his god, in whose sight he swore an oath to me."
When they reached the city, Blade went to the inn and asked the proprietor for directions to the woman healer's house. The man's instructions led them to a modest domicile in a side street, which stood out by virtue of a fresh coat of whitewash. A manservant showed them into a cosy, book-lined room furnished with overstuffed chairs. After several minutes, a tall, bony woman with an equine face and soft brown eyes came in. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a bun, and she wore a simple brown shift belted at the waist with a braided yellow rope.
The healer smiled and invited them into a smaller room, this one lined with shelves that held a plethora of books, jars, vials, pouches and dried herbs, as well as a few shrivelled, unidentifiable objects. Her eyes lingered on Blade, since Kerra was obviously robust, and she gestured to a well-scrubbed table. The assassin perched on the edge of it, ill at ease. He had always hated healers, with their cold hands that prodded and poked in all the most painful places, and the way they then peered into his twisted face and asked, "Does that hurt?"
Crella smiled and studied him with bright, interested eyes. "So, how may I help you?"
"I have a cracked rib, I think."
"And this?" She gestured to his throat, where bruises were visible above his collar.
"A dog. It is not serious."
"Remove your jacket and shirt, if you please."
The healer's eyes widened at the sight of his mark, then flicked to the dagger sheaths strapped to his wrists. Kerra stifled a gasp when he removed the bandage that bound his ribs, revealing a huge blackened area on the right side of his chest. The last time she had seen it, there had only been a red mark, now it looked much worse. The healer bent to peer at it, but did not touch him.
"Lift your arm."
Blade stopped when he had raised it no more than halfway, frowning. "That hurts."
"Of course it does." She studied the bruise. "A sword stroke, I would guess."
He nodded, lowering his arm when she straightened.
"Yes, you definitely have at least one cracked rib, maybe two. Patients usually know what is wrong with them, unless it is a disease. If you drop a cart on your foot, you know that it is broken, do you not? You do not need me to poke and prod it to find out that it hurts."
She turned to peruse her shelves. "I can give you something that will speed the healing threefold, but you must keep it strapped and do nothing strenuous for at least a tenday. Judging by the bruise, it happened about five days ago, right?"
Blade nodded.
"If you had come to me then, it would have been much improved already. But I suppose you do not like
healers, do you?"
He frowned at her. "Are you reading my mind?"
She chuckled. "I do not have to. Horse kin are sensitive, and you are the first assassin who has ever come to me for treatment."
"Most healers will not treat an assassin, so I usually look after myself."
"This is Dramali. Healers treat far worse than assassins here." She selected a jar and decanted a white powder into an empty bottle.
"Why are you here?" Kerra asked, and Blade shot her a quelling look.
The healer smiled as she capped the jar and reached for another. "My father is a smuggler."
"Does he go to Cotti?"
"Kess!" Blade said.
The healer sifted a little brown powder in with the white. "Yes, actually he is leaving for Darjaran the day after tomorrow. It is a little east of the capital, Jadaya. Do you know Cotti?"
Blade glared at Kerra. "No."
"Then I suppose you want to go to Jadaya." She corked the jar and put it back on the shelf, then scanned the other containers. "He will take you if I ask him, but he will charge you, of course."
Kerra smirked at Blade. "I suppose Bla-Claw should not ride, should he?"
"No. Even travelling in a wagon will not be good for him. He should stay in bed for at least five days." Blade snorted, and she glanced at him. "Of course, he will not."
Blade pondered her words. "Your father is not the curious sort, is he?"
She laughed, selected a third container and sniffed it. "A smuggler? No. You pay half in advance and half when you arrive, no questions asked."
"How much?"
"Usually about fifty gold pieces." She poured a little black powder into the mixture and put the vial back on the shelf. "If you want to go, be on the southern road outside town at dusk, the day after tomorrow. I will tell him to look out for you."
Crella corked the bottle and shook it as she turned to the assassin, then put it down and picked up his bandage.
"Try to make this tight when you put it on again yourself. Perhaps your apprentice can help you." She wound the cloth around his ribs, pulling it so tight that he grimaced. "An interesting collection of scars, elder. Burns, these." She indicated the ones on his chest. "Torture, I suppose. And the one on your back was made by an arrow?"
"Crossbow bolt."
"In the lung. You were lucky to survive."
The Queen's Blade IV - Sacred Knight of the Veil Page 16