The Queen's Blade III - Invisible Assassin

by T C Southwell

  "It could take you moons to find her, and you may not find her at all, or word of her."

  "But I will try, that is all I can promise you. I have spies everywhere. If she survived I will find her. If not, at least you will know her fate."

  Blade gave a curt nod. "Very well." He took the King's hand, but instead of shaking it he turned it palm up and sliced a shallow cut across it. "We have an accord."

  The King hissed with pain, but before he could react further to this outrage, the sound of many booted feet in the corridor made him glance around with a frown. "Too late to get you to your room. Quick, hide behind the curtains, they must not find you here."

  The assassin shot a dark glance at the doorway, tucked the dagger into his belt and limped to one of the heavy curtains that hung against the walls. He vanished behind it just as a bevy of senior advisors came trotting in, accompanied by four soldiers. They stopped to survey the scene with horror, and one of the advisors strode over to kneel beside Rigal's body. He straightened, looking shocked.

  "Prince Rigal is dead."

  A grey-bearded advisor stepped forward. "What has happened here? Sire, do you know?"

  Kerrion nodded. "It seems that these three thugs attacked my future wife. Her familiar killed one, then my brother rushed to her aid, killing the other two before dying of his wounds. His heroism will be sung for generations to come."

  The senior advisor looked astounded. "Indeed. And what of Prince Rigal's familiar?"

  "When the Prince died his wolf went mad, as familiars often do. Since she was the only living person in the room, it attacked Minna-Satu, and naturally her familiar defended her."

  "Ah." The advisor shot his fellows a meaningful look before turning back to the King. "And where were you, Sire?"

  "I was defending my crown against a challenge from Prince Ronan, which he lost. He is a witness to my whereabouts."

  "And who witnessed this?"

  Kerrion spotted Olan lurking in the doorway behind the advisors. "My servant, Olan."

  The advisors turned to regard the cringing servant. "Is this true?"

  "All of it, I swear," Olan averred.

  "Tell us what happened."

  "Er... The King already -"

  "I am also a witness," Minna interrupted when it became obvious that Olan had not overheard Kerrion's explanation. "Prince Rigal gave his life to protect me from these thugs."

  The senior advisor raked her with a contemptuous glance. "Your testimony is of no consequence."

  Minna opened her mouth to rebuke him, but Kerrion hushed her, making her close it with a snap. The advisor turned to Olan once more, and this time the servant said, "That's what happened, Prince Rigal was protecting the King's mistress."

  "I see." The advisor clearly did not believe any of them, but there was little he could do about it.

  Kerrion said, "The fact that Rigal had his familiar with him is proof of his impromptu arrival and good intentions. Had he planned to harm my betrothed, he would assuredly have left his wolf in his quarters rather than risk its life, especially since my future wife has a formidable familiar of her own."

  "It could have rushed to his aid when it sensed his injury," the advisor pointed out.

  "Indeed, but it did not. It was with him from the outset, was it not, Olan?"

  The servant nodded, his expression dead-pan.

  "Were there no guards at the doors?" the advisor asked.

  "Most certainly," Kerrion replied, "but someone sent them away, and it could only have been one of my half-brothers, though not, obviously, Rigal."

  "Then Prince Rigal will join his brother, Prince Targan, lying in state. Perhaps he will be joined by more Princes before too long."

  The advisor marched out, followed by the others. The soldiers dragged away the bodies of the thugs and wolf.

  Blade was forced to remain behind the curtain for a time-glass while servants mopped up the blood and removed Rigal's body on a litter. When at last he was able to emerge, he limped back to his room, where a trusted healer waited to tend to his wounds.

  Chapter Four

  The next day, Minna-Satu ignored protocol to walk alone along the passage that led to Blade's door, a veil hiding her face. He lay on his bed, propped up on a pile of cushions with a book cradled against his chest. At her entry he looked up and put down the book, lacing his fingers.

  "My Queen," he said in a resigned tone.

  Minna pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, studying him. One eye was almost swollen shut, and a blackening bruise marred that side of his face from temple to cheek. A bandage covered his upper arm and another bound his chest. Evidently the healer who had attended him had given him something for the pain, for he looked a little dazed. She deduced that he had not risen to bow to her because he could barely stand.

  "My Lord Conash. I hope your recovery will be swift."

  "As do I. Once again you flout protocol and visit a man in his bed chamber."

  "You are ill, and besides, nobody knows you are here except your servant, the healer, my handmaidens and Kerrion. They are all trustworthy, according to Kerrion."

  He looked away. "What troubles you, My Queen? Surely you are beyond pitying me?"

  "No, it is not that." She hesitated. "You cannot return to Jashimari."

  "Why not?"

  "They think you are dead. If you return they will ask questions, perhaps wonder about me, too."

  "You assume that I will return to the palace. Rest assured, I have no intention of doing that. I shall go to my estate, where I can retire in peace."

  Minna bit her lip. "Your estate now belongs to Chiana. If you go there she will hear of it."

  "Then Kerrion will have to pay me handsomely, so I can buy a modest dwelling and live comfortably."

  "Someone will recognise you. You are too well known and too... unusual to go unnoticed for long."

  He sighed and shrugged. "Then I shall tell them you are dead, that you took the Cup and I did not. I am an accomplished liar."

  "They will ask why Kerrion brought you here."

  "To punish me, to imprison me. I have the scars to prove it."

  She looked unconvinced, shaking her head. Blade tried to sit up, but subsiding with a grimace and turned to her. A faint smile curled his lips, twisted by his swollen jaw. "Do not trouble yourself, Minna. I have decided that Ronan will be my last victim. But I doubt I will survive his death, if indeed I succeed in killing him at all."

  She glanced up, frowning. "What do you mean?"

  "Prince Ronan knows he is my next target. He will surround himself with bodyguards and traps. Even if I succeed in reaching him, I doubt I will escape afterwards."

  "And knowing this, you will still attempt his assassination?"

  He stared into space. "It does not matter."

  "You do not care."

  "No."

  "But... you have your whole life ahead of you."

  He shot her a bitter smile. "What life? I am only a problem to those around me, and once I have served my purpose I will become a liability. You do not wish me to return to Jashimari, and I certainly do not want to stay here, hiding like a rat in the palace of my enemy. My days as an assassin are numbered anyway. I am growing too old for the trade. I should have retired already. I am living on borrowed time, and my skills are fading with my youth."

  The Queen leant forward and gripped his arm. "No. I want you to stay with me. You are the only other Jashimari here, the only one I can talk to who speaks in a civilised manner."

  Blade turned his head to look at her. "What sort of companion am I? I cannot sympathise with your troubles or provide any form of comfort or friendship. You surprise me, My Queen."

  "Do I? You call me by my name, and you are privy to my most secret thoughts. Should I need comfort, Kerrion can provide it, but you are also important to me, Blade."

  His smile widened. "A retired assassin is not fit company for a Queen. I have little conversation to offer apart from the various methods of ki
lling and a collection of gruesome stories about my past exploits. There was a time when I was hardly ever injured. Only a very few times in my youth, when I was betrayed and waylaid, yet recently I seem always in the care of a healer."

  "That is because you were forced to fight Rigal without weapons, and you are not trained as a fighter. You were not injured when you assassinated Targan."

  "Killing a child in his bed is easy, My Queen. What use am I to you when I have outlived my trade? Surely you do not wish to hear of all the blood I have spilt."

  Minna removed her hand from his arm. "Strange that you blanche at the sight of it, My Lord."

  He shot her a glance tinged with amusement. "Ah. So now I have no secrets left, it seems. The sight of blood may turn my stomach, but speaking of it does not."

  "You will not attempt to kill Ronan. I forbid it."

  "I have already agreed."

  "Do you take orders from a Cotti now?"

  His eyes narrowed. "No. I accepted his offer."

  "The news of your sister shall be part payment for services rendered. I will speak to Kerrion."

  "And when Ronan plots against you, what then?"

  She rose and walked to the end of the bed, where she turned to face him. "Surely it would be easier to protect me as you did from Lord Javare? They would not dare to attack me when Kerrion is present, and when he is not, you will be."

  He shook his head. "There are many ways to kill, My Queen. Poison is just as sure, and that I cannot defend you from, unless you would have me taste your food. You can employ a taster, I suppose, but then they will use a slow-acting poison. Also, as I have said, my abilities are diminishing with age. Soon I will be as useless as a toothless old dog."

  "Surely you can manage a few more years, two or three at the most."

  He shrugged, wincing. "Perhaps, but I do not wish to remain here, that is the crux of the matter. If I am to live, it will not be in Cotti, not for two more years. I have barely been here more than two moons and already I hate it, as I did before. If I survive Ronan's assassination I shall return to Jashimari, with or without your blessing. If you pine for the company of a Jashimari, Kerrion has a number of educated men in his prisons. Perhaps you can avail yourself of their company."

  "You know that is not my wish. If you leave, you will break my heart. You are like a brother to me now."

  The assassin gave a snort of laughter, then grimaced and held his ribs. A minute passed while he regarded her. "I am not your brother, My Queen, nor do I care if my departure troubles you."

  "Do you not?" She moved closer, her gaze intent. "Are you truly so cold, or do you merely deny your feelings and lie about them?"

  "I do not have them."

  "Yet you hate it here, that is a feeling."

  "I hate a great many things, but have affection for none, and that is what you expect of me."

  Minna settled back into the chair beside him. "What if Kerrion finds your sister? What will you feel for her?"

  He frowned. "I do not know."

  "Perhaps if you allowed yourself to feel, your life would be worth living?"

  Blade closed his eyes with a sigh. "It would probably make it unbearable."

  Minna glanced at the window, noting the sinking sun, then at Blade's pale features, which bore the pinched look of extreme fatigue.

  She rose. "I shall leave you now, My Lord. It grows late, and I see you are tired. Think about what I have said."

  After the Queen left, Blade's eyes flicked open, and he stared at the ceiling. Her declaration did not surprise him unduly. He had long since divined her affection for him, yet somehow it moved him more than Chiana's. His gaze wandered to the open window that framed the dusk's golden glow, and his reflection in the mirror beside it caught his attention. The soft light gilded his cold, pale eyes, and he shuddered. They reflected the iciness in his heart, and he pushed aside his hatred to allow the warmth they had possessed in his youth to return to his eyes.

  A memory rose from the shadowy depths of his past, released by the softening of his cold grip, and he allowed it to emerge into the light like a timid, fearful creature kept too long in a cage of ice and darkness. Three girls played in a meadow, and a man with soft eyes and an easy smile watched them as he puffed his pipe. A laughing woman weaved flowers into her daughters' hair and cast him a loving glance. They lived there still, haunting him with their soft laughter and gentle smiles. Ghosts that he had buried long ago. All the joy of his youth was locked behind the iron door of his will, the key to it lost in the bottomless pool of blood in which he had wallowed ever since. His mother's sweet voice spoke from beyond the curtain of that sweet memory, murmuring the words she had used so often to him.

  Blade closed his eyes and allowed the coldness he found so hard to stave off to seep into him once more, washing away the bright memories and the sorrow they brought with them.

  When Kerrion returned from his duties that evening, he found Minna-Satu waiting for him. He noted her intense expression as he kissed her, and stepped back to study her.

  "What is wrong?"

  "I went to see Blade today."

  "Ah." Kerrion sighed and made his way over to the tray that held a bottle of wine and two goblets. "I should have guessed from your expression. Why is it that he has the power to upset people so much? What did he say?"

  "He does not expect to survive Ronan's assassination."

  The King swung around. "Blade? Voicing doubts about his abilities? That surprises me."

  "Why should it? He is a man, not a magician. Ronan will probably be the most difficult target he has ever had, and he has, by all accounts, entered into his thirtieth year."

  "He had no trouble with Targan."

  "Targan was not forewarned."

  Kerrion poured two cups of wine and offered her one. "So he has changed his mind, then?"

  "No, I have." She took the cup and sipped the wine. "I will not send him to kill Ronan."

  "He has already agreed."

  "He works for me, not you."

  "He is playing on your emotions. He just wants to go home. As he said, he is tired of all this."

  She shook her head. "He did not ask to be released. He said he will probably not survive to return to Jashimari, which is his greatest wish. I do not want him to go, but nor do I wish him dead."

  "If Ronan is not stopped, it will be you who dies. Sacrificing Blade is not too high a price to pay to ensure your safety."

  "It is. You have many brothers, Kerrion. Blade has only killed three of them. How many does that leave, twelve? What of Armin, when he returns from Contara?"

  Kerrion drained his cup in a couple of gulps. "Armin will not return. I shall order him to govern Contara. He cannot threaten you from there. Even if he disobeyed and tried to return, arranging an accident for him on the way would not be difficult. I can deal with the rest of my brothers. They are all a lot younger than Ronan and Armin. Let us not make any rash decisions, let us see what happens."

  "I will not send Blade to kill Ronan, that is final."

  "And I will not allow your life to be put in danger. You value the life of a damned assassin above your own? He has risked his life each time he was sent to assassinate someone, and you sent him on some of those assignments. What about when he came here to kill Lerton? You knew that he may not survive, but still you sent him."

  "That was to save my people by saving you, our only hope for peace. I will not have him die merely to protect me."

  "Yet he is not averse to the idea," Kerrion pointed out.

  "Blade has no love for life. His death will mean more to me than it does to him."

  "Well, he will not be around to ponder it, will he?"

  "No, I will. It will be on my conscience."

  Kerrion studied her mulish expression. "He will probably get himself killed in some drunken brawl in a rat-infested taproom in Jashimari if he lives to return. Why put such a value on his life when it is worthless to him?"

  "Because it is not worthles
s to me."

  "And I will not put a price on yours." He closed the gap between them and gripped her arms. "If you die I will renounce my throne. The war will start all over again."

  "You would put your daughter in danger?"

  "Jashimari will not fall."

  "It will when it is beset on two sides. Contara will be ruled by Armin, who will inherit the Cotti crown."

  Kerrion released her and spun away, raising his hands in a gesture of helpless fury. "Why does he always cause so much trouble?" He went to the window and leant on the ledge, gazing at the rising Maiden Moon, now at the fullness of its phase. Minna drained her cup and put it aside with a faint clink, watching him.

  After several tense minutes, he turned to face her again. "Let us not argue about it. I will not try to change your mind; let us just see what happens."

  Minna nodded, looking relieved. Kerrion walked over to sit beside her and take her in his arms.

  Half a moon passed in relative peace. The Maiden Moon waned and the waxing Warrior replaced it. Blade recovered from his injuries and exercised in the hidden garden again, just as Ronan left his sickbed. Kerrion had inflicted several serious wounds on his brother during their fight, ensuring that he would be out of action for quite a while. As soon as he was able, the Prince honed his skills against several excellent fighters, and Kerrion, learning of this, was forced to do the same lest his brother's swordsmanship outstrip his own.

  Tension in the palace rose to palpable levels as rumours of a second challenge became rife, and lords found themselves forced to choose between them. Owing to Kerrion's ill-advised association with a Jashimari woman, many took Ronan's part even though he was not the more popular of the two, nor the next in line to the throne. The Cotti lords knew that if Kerrion was defeated, Ronan would have to face his other older brother Armin. So much infighting boded ill for the Cotti monarchy, and many laid the blame for the brewing conflict at Minna-Satu's door.

  Blade had just returned from his morning exercise and had a quick bath when Olan knocked on his door and entered. Over time the antagonism between them had eased a little, and their open hostility had mellowed to mere snappishness and cutting remarks. Blade frowned at the servant's intrusion, and Olan smiled nastily.