The Queen's Blade IV - Sacred Knight of the Veil

by T C Southwell

  "You kissed me."

  Blade stopped brushing at his clothes and glanced at her. "I had a good reason." He turned and strode towards the stable door, and Kerra trotted to catch up.

  "I thought you might have enjoyed it too."

  "Not as much as you, apparently."

  "But you did?"

  He shot her a frown. "It was not unpleasant. Why do you ask?"

  "I just want to know."

  "Well, now you do, so can we drop the subject?"

  Blade stopped in the livery's doorway and glanced up and down the street to make sure it was empty, then marched back the way they had come. Kerra caught up and trotted beside him to the inn, which he found quiet and dark, as he had hoped. Had it been swarming with soldiers summoned to investigate the death of the erstwhile kidnappers, he would have been forced to abandon their belongings.

  Kerra waited outside the room while he collected the bags, stepping over the bodies that lay in congealing pools of blood. Fortunately, the innkeeper had not bothered to investigate the earlier commotion, apparently not wishing to be involved in whatever had transpired under his roof. Woman snatching was probably a common occurrence here, and obviously he did not expect anyone to have been killed in the process.

  The innkeeper would be surprised by what he found in the morning, but by then Blade planned to be far away. Leaving a few coins to pay for the room, he went across the road to the livery where he had stabled the horses and saddled them, leaving money to pay for their keep. Men who had been paid for their services were less likely to describe him to the soldiers who would search for him in the morning.

  They left the town, whose name he had already forgotten, at a brisk pace, putting as much distance between them and the place as quickly as possible. By the time the sun rose, Kerra slumped in her saddle, yawning, but Blade carried on until noon. At dusk, they continued until the Queen grew tired again, then stopped for the rest of the night.

  By the following morning, they had caught up on lost sleep, and set off at dawn as usual. According to Blade's map, there was nothing until the next town, seven days ride away and further to the south. He resisted the temptation to veer south, and kept to his chosen route, two days ride from Jadaya. In the desert, people took the most direct route from one oasis to another. To wander off into the arid wasteland invited disaster, and the Cotti knew better than to do it.

  Even armed with a map and a compass, a person could become confused and lost, and wander around until their water ran out. Some Cotti called this desert madness, when the shimmering mirages appeared real, and led unwary travellers on fruitless, fatal quests for illusionary water. Blade had made sure that the pack horse carried plenty of water and grain, since the only thing he dreaded more than getting lost was being forced to walk through the deep sand, which sapped a person's strength so fast that one day's journey would exhaust them.

  Kerra adapted well to the heat and dryness, perhaps due to her Cotti blood, but Blade found the temperature enervating, and the dry air burnt his throat. His dislike for the desert grew each day, and his resentment of Shamsara with it. As far as he was concerned, he was on a wild goose chase through an arid furnace, and he did not enjoy it. His short temper kept Kerra silent, and he endured the ordeal with ill-concealed rancour.

  When he spotted a distant clump of palms one afternoon, he consulted the map with a frown, wondering if he had become lost after all. According to the map, no such oasis existed, and since they did not spring up overnight, he found its appearance worrying. He turned towards it, glad to find water and shade even if it was not on his map. A nagging doubt made him halt the horses some distance away and turn to Kerra.

  "Send Myasha to those trees and ask him what is there."

  Kerra grinned, delighted to have work for her familiar, and called the bird down from his lofty vigil. The direfalcon landed on her wrist, and she stroked his snowy breast while she communed with him. The raptor took off at her behest and soared towards the oasis, leaving them to wait on the stamping horses. He returned within a few minutes, and she bent to listen to his silent message. Familiars communicated with mental pictures and shared sensations, and the knack of understanding them took practice. When she raised her head, she looked puzzled.

  "He says that there are men there, wearing metal."

  "Soldiers." Blade gazed at the oasis with narrowed eyes. "What colour?"

  She glanced at the bird. "Eye colour. Blue."

  "How many?"

  Kerra cocked her head, and Myasha hissed. "He cannot count. A few."

  Blade held up his hand. "This many?"

  "More."

  The assassin shifted in his saddle. "What are soldiers doing way out here?"

  "Maybe they are just passing through?"

  "That place is not on the map, nor is it on any route. That in itself is strange, for oases are precious." He slid from his saddle and stretched his legs. "We will camp here. I will go there tonight and see what is going on."

  "Why not now?"

  "Because that is a perfect place to keep a hostage hidden, and if I'm right, those soldiers are not going to let us ride in there. In which case, I don't want to have to deal with more than a handful at once."

  Kerra stared at the oasis. "You think my father's wife is there?"

  "Maybe. Trelath's colour is pale blue, just like his older brother's was."

  "Who was he?"

  "Armin."

  She turned to him. "You killed him."

  "Yes."

  Kerra dismounted and unsaddled her horse. Blade pulled the saddle off his mount and dumped it on the sand. Soon the horses were picketed and fed, and the tent set up. They ate some dried meat and drank a little water before stretching out in the little tent.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Blade woke in the freezing cold, and crawled over Kerra's sleeping form into the silver light of the myriad stars that set the night sky ablaze. The Maiden Moon had set long ago, and the only sound was the faint hiss of blowing sand. Myasha perched atop a saddle, his head tucked under his wing. Blade poured a little water into his hands to wash his face, cursing when the moustache came off again. Since he did not intend to be seen, he did not bother to glue it back on. He donned his leather jacket and trousers, glad of their warmth and protection, and checked that all his daggers were in place.

  Leaving the girl to sleep, he set off towards the oasis, the soft sand tugging at his boots. Wherever the deep sand gave way to areas of hard, stony ground that the wind had scoured clean, he broke into a trot, following the winding paths between the dunes. His exertion had warmed him by the time he reached the outskirts of the oasis, where the sand swallowed a few crumbling walls and some withered pemra palm trees. Moving like a shadow, he crept along the walls, stopping to peer over them from time to time. A large, ruined keep stood in the centre of the oasis, its walls cracked and crumbling. Blade scanned the buildings for guards, but the ruin seemed abandoned, and he wondered if Kerra had misinterpreted her familiar's message.

  Crossing the broad courtyard like a wraith, he reached the keep's doorway and pressed himself to the wall, listening. A faint, distant snore told him that it was inhabited, and its occupants did not expect company. There may not be a guard at all, but he was not taking any chances. He peered around the corner into an empty hall, then slipped within and crept along it, moving with the well-practiced stealth of a master assassin.

  Following the sound of snoring, he found a spacious room where five men slept rolled up in blankets on the floor. Weapons and armour were laid out beside each slumbering soldier, and if Myasha was right, there was at least one guard. Two crows roosted on the window ledge, and a snake lay coiled on one man's chest, sharing his warmth.

  The other two familiars were too small to see, or not with their human friends. He moved past the door and explored the rest of the hall, peering into several empty rooms and one that contained piles of supplies. Judging by the amount, the soldiers planned quite a long stay. He walked on, pa
ssing an empty bathing chamber, its huge sunken pool covered with cracked tiles, its bottom hidden by sand. Beyond it, he found a staircase and ascended it, entering another hall with more empty rooms bordering it.

  A soft snore alerted him to the presence of a sentry ahead, and he proceeded more cautiously, staying close to the wall. A huddled shadow resolved itself into a slumped man as he drew closer, and he froze when the soldier shifted and groaned, then settled into a rasping snore. Blade crept closer, pausing beside the man to gauge the depth of his sleep, his hand resting on the hilt of a dagger. Until he knew what they were guarding, there was no reason to kill anyone, and he stepped past the sentry to gaze into the room beyond.

  Starlight poured in through a single window, lighting a chamber with rusted chains attached to its walls and a clump of cushions in the middle of the floor. A woman reclined on them, her head resting against the silken flank of a huge sand cat. Raven hair mixed with golden fur, and her pale skin gleamed like ivory. A pang of recognition went through Blade, surprising him with its intensity. He glanced back at the guard, knowing that the man would have to be silenced before he woke the Elder Queen.

  Stepping back from the doorway, he turned to the sleeping man and lowered himself to one knee beside him. The sentry wore armour, making his usual method of killing impossible. Before his presence could alarm the man's sleeping mind, he drew a dagger and slit the sentry's throat, jumping back to avoid the blood that spurted from the wound. The man woke with a gurgling gasp, his eyes flew wide and his mouth opened to shout. Only a bubbling hiss issued from it, then his eyes rolled back and he slumped.

  Blade listened for the sound of the other soldiers' snoring, but could hear nothing. This chamber was a fair distance from the Cotti's sleeping quarters, and he doubted that they would hear anything less than a shout. Returning to the doorway, he walked down the shallow steps into the chamber, his eyes on the sleeping queen. At his approach, the sand cat woke and sat up, her eyes gleaming in the dimness. Her ears pricked, then she rose and trotted to him, her deep purr filling the chamber as she rubbed against his legs. Blade bent to stroke her tawny fur, smiling. Shista had always liked him, and, being cat kin, he enjoyed her affection.

  The woman on the cushions stirred, groped for the absent cat and turned to look for her. She sat up in alarm, the shackles that bound her wrists to a ring in the floor clinking.

  "Who are you?"

  Blade recognised the haughty tones of Minna's most regal manner, and his smile widened. Shista rubbed herself against him hard enough to make him stagger, and the Queen stared at the cat in amazement. Realising that he stood in the shadows and still wore the blond wig, he reached up and peeled it off, wincing as the glue pulled at his skin. Minna stared up at him, and he stepped out of the shadows.

  "Blade?"

  Her voice shook with unadulterated joy, and she gasped, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. Blade walked up to her and fell to one knee, bowing his head.

  "My Queen."

  "Blade." Minna stared at him as if he was a ghost, then reached out to touch him with cold, thin hands.

  "Yes."

  Tears overflowed to stream down her cheeks. "You are not a dream."

  "No."

  With a sob, she buried her face in her hands, hiding her tears as she strived to regain control of her emotions. Blade looked away, not wishing to witness the Queen's loss of composure, and Shista threw herself down next to him and rolled onto her back, her purr a steady rumble. His knee ached, and he sat back on his haunches to relieve it while he waited. From her gaunt, ragged appearance, Minna had been ill-treated, and he knew from experience what that was like. Minna raised her head, brushed the wetness from her cheeks and took a deep breath.

  "It is you. It is really you."

  "Yes."

  She drew a shuddering breath. "How did you find me?"

  "Pure chance."

  "Did Kerrion send you?"

  His lip curled. "I do not work for Cotti. Shamsara did."

  Minna-Satu lifted a hand and stroked his cheek, meeting his cold gaze with eyes that shone with affection and gratitude. She wore only a length of cloth wrapped around her chest and knotted in the front, but despite this, she held herself proudly, looking no less a queen than she had in her golden mail and jewels. Brushing her tangled hair back, she stroked the rumbling cat who flopped down in front of her, demanding attention. He waited while she regained her composure, noticing the shivers she strived to hide. Remembering the blankets in the supply room downstairs, he started to get up, but she grabbed his hand.

  "Do not go."

  "You need a blanket."

  She forced a brittle smile. "I need a great many things, Blade. Freedom would be higher on my list of priorities than a blanket."

  "I will free you, never fear." He glanced at the shackles on her wrists. "Do you know where the key is?"

  "Trelath has it."

  "Then let me fetch you a blanket."

  "Have you killed the guards?"

  "Only one."

  Her eyes widened in alarm. "You must. Now, while they sleep."

  "I am no longer an assassin, Minna. I cannot kill them in cold blood. The one I have slain was a threat."

  "You are retired?" She shook her head. "Of course you are, it has been fifteen years. But you must. If they should overcome you I could not bear it. How can I persuade you?"

  Blade pulled a thin metal tool from his belt and inserted it into the shackles' lock, frowning with concentration. The lock was old and worn, making his job difficult as the pick slipped off the tumblers inside.

  "I need you, Blade, now more than ever," Minna went on. "You must renounce your retirement, if that is what is required. I have much work for you."

  Blade recalled his conversation with Shamsara, and the Idol's instruction that he should obey the Queen. "I have not worked for fifteen years. I may not be as good as I was."

  She studied him. "If my eyes do not deceive me, it appears as if you have not aged at all. Chiana told Kerrion how you saved our daughter and were saved in turn by Shamsara. He gave you a great gift."

  He snorted, digging at the lock with unnecessary vigour. "A curse, more like it."

  "To me it is a gift that you are still alive, or I would surely have perished here."

  "You do not think Kerrion would have found you?"

  "He searches diligently, I am sure, but Trelath is cunning, and knows his brother well. Doubtless I am in a place that Kerrion will not think of searching until it is too late. I do not know what was demanded of him or why Trelath's plans have been delayed, but if not for that, I would be dead already."

  Blade twisted the pick. "Trelath and Endor demanded that Kerrion allow Endor to take Kerra hostage and rule Jashimari. Kerrion instructed Chiana to hide the girl, and she begged me to take her away."

  "And you did?"

  "Yes."

  Minna watched him struggle with the lock. "So that is what has delayed their plans. Is she with you?"

  "At a camp in the desert."

  "So, soon she will know my secret."

  "You do not have to tell her who you are." The shackle fell open with a clink, and Minna sighed, rubbing her wrist.

  "She is old enough to know the truth, and I could not pretend to be a low bred woman."

  He smiled and started on the other shackle, trying to imagine the Elder Queen acting like a commoner. "You did when you seduced Kerrion."

  "That was for a few time-glasses, and it was necessary. What is she like?"

  "She has improved since she has been with me, but she is still proud." The second shackle fell open with a rattle.

  "As she should be." Minna-Satu stroked his cheek again with a cold hand. "How can I ever repay you for this service you do me now? I have no more titles to confer, nor do you require more payment. You are already a rich man."

  "I require no payment from you, My Queen."

  Her brows rose. "I did not think you would do this for nothing."

&nb
sp; "I am not. Chiana has promised to order the deaths of the Cotti princes who plotted this, in return for keeping Kerra away from Endor. Your freedom was purchased by Shamsara."

  "Indeed? And what payment does he offer the man who has everything?"

  Blade hesitated, tucking the lock pick back into the tiny pocket in his belt. "I would rather not say, but it is a considerable one."

  "As it should be. Very well, I shall not pry. Will you kill the guards now?"

  The assassin sighed, then pulled open his collar and peeled off the piece of leather that was glued over his mark. The Guild's laws forbade him to perform an assassination without the tattoo being visible, so, if he was killed, the mark would proclaim him a guild assassin and not an imposter.

  The red teardrop tattoo beneath it proclaimed his retirement, and could not be left exposed. By rights, it should be removed before he plied his trade again, although there were no rules that stated this, since no assassin had ever come out of retirement before. Since he had no way of removing it, he contented himself with sticking the leather patch over the teardrop tattoo.

  Minna-Satu watched him refasten his collar with eyes dark with sorrow. "I am loath to send you into danger again, my lord, but I must. When they awaken, they will try to kill you, and my daughter will be in danger too. I cannot take that risk. It is safer to dispatch them now. Once again, you will be my blade, my hand of death reaching out to slay my enemies, and those who know you will fear my wrath once more."

  He smiled. "I had forgotten your penchant for inspiring little speeches, My Queen."

  "But I have not forgotten your lack of manners, my lord. I speak only the truth."

  "Fear not, five sleeping soldiers are hardly a challenge to me."

  She smiled. "Nor have I forgotten your arrogance."

  "I only speak the truth. An assassin who lacks confidence in his skills is a dead one."

  She inclined her head. "I do not cast aspersions upon your considerable skills, Blade. Only your penchant for bragging about them."