The assassin charged the guards, taking on all five in a suicidal rush into their midst. As they drew their swords he slashed two across the throat and stabbed a third in the heart. The other two lunged at him, their blades whispering past his ribs. He twisted and leapt, lashed out with a foot and broke a man's jaw with a soft crack. A sword slid along his ribs, opening a gash that forced a grunt from him. He turned, slashed with a dagger and found a soft target. His assailant staggered back, clutching a bleeding arm.
Blade spun, almost slipping in the blood that covered the floor. His eyes found the Cotti Prince who had just ordered his sister's death. With a growl of rage he charged Ronan, ignoring the sword that the Prince drew with a hiss of steel. The swiftness of his attack ensured that the Prince did not have time to raise the weapon, and prevented Blade from impaling himself on it as he flung himself at Ronan, sending him crashing to the floor with the fury of his attack. The assassin lacked the advantage in close fighting, Ronan outweighed him and was stronger, but he no longer cared. He stabbed the Prince in a frenzy, not caring where his blows landed, inflicting wounds in Ronan's arms, shoulders and chest.
Ronan roared and struggled, his sword useless at such close quarters against Blade's maniacal attack, and the assassin moved too fast, a veritable storm of slashing steel. A modicum of sense stole into Blade's crazed mind, enough to make him change his target and stab Ronan several times in the gut, making the Prince scream.
The two wounded guards, one nursing a broken jaw, the other an injured arm, rose and staggered towards the fray. The assassin whipped around and hurled a dagger that stopped one man dead in his tracks, then jumped up as the last soldier charged at a shambling run. With one dagger left, he could not afford to throw it, so he kicked the man in the throat as he spun aside. The soldier crumpled and lay still, and Blade found himself alone with the groaning Prince, his brothers fled long before. Ronan clutched his lacerated belly, writhing in a pool of blood. Blade walked over and stared down at him. He took no notice of the blood that soaked his own shirt and dripped from the hem of his trousers.
Ronan raised a hand. "Do not kill me!"
The assassin knelt beside his victim and flipped the Prince onto his stomach, then stabbed him twice in the back, on either side of his spine. The Prince shouted and sobbed, begging for his life, and Blade pulled him onto his back again.
"I always keep my promises," he grated. "It will take you a long time to die."
Rising to his feet, he walked to Alenstra's crumpled body and knelt beside her, lifted her and rolled her onto her back. He removed the gag and cut the ropes that bound her wrists, arranging her hands over her breast in the manner of burial. The Prince whimpered while Blade closed her staring eyes with a trembling, blood-smeared hand. He kissed her brow and straightened to gaze down at her, his face twisted with anguish.
"Find joy in the Everlasting, Alenstra. I am sorry... I failed you... forgive me."
Blade stroked the hair from her brow while he studied her face, committing it to memory. Pounding feet in the corridor heralded a crowd of nobles that the young princes had summoned from the banqueting hall. They rushed to fill the doorway, stopping there to gawp at the carnage.
Kerrion pushed his way to the front, a sweep of his eyes taking in the bloody tableau. The crumpled forms of six soldiers lay huddled on the floor, one groaning. Ronan lay in a pool of blood, clutching his belly. The assassin knelt beside the still form of a dark-haired woman, stroking her face. Ronan rolled onto his side and levered himself onto one elbow.
"Call the guards!" he cried. "I am betrayed!"
Kerrion broke from his trance and strode forward to kneel beside his brother. "Lie still." He turned to shout at the crowd, "Call a healer!"
"Summon the guards!" Ronan yelled. "He tried to kill me! He is the Jashimari assassin!"
Kerrion glanced at Blade, whose bowed head and dejected stance told the King that the assassin had resigned himself to death at the hands of the Cotti soldiers when they came. He longed to shout at Blade to flee while he had the chance, but could not without compromising himself before the witnesses. Instead he looked down at his brother, pretending great concern for Ronan's plight. In truth, the sight of his brother's pain did sadden him, and not all of his concern was feigned.
Six soldiers, summoned by a panic-stricken noble, pushed through the crowd and hesitated when they encountered the terrible scene. The King paid them no heed, but knelt beside his brother and directed him to lie still until the healer arrived, holding Ronan down when the Prince tried to move. The soldiers glanced around, but without anyone to point out the perpetrator and no orders, they made no move.
Minna pushed her way to the front of the muttering throng, using her elbows to good effect. She gasped and raised a hand to her mouth in horror, her eyes wide. Ronan spotted the soldiers and pointed at Blade.
"Kill him! He is the assassin!"
The soldiers started forward, and Minna realised what was about to happen as Blade raised his head. His hands remained upon his sister's body, and a dagger lay on the floor beside him. His eyes were the empty, bleak greyness of a stormy sky on a windy winter's day. The soldiers drew their swords with a hiss of steel as they advanced.
Minna shouted, "Blade, run!"
His eyes met hers, and she read a flash of anguish in their depths.
"Go!" she cried.
When Blade bowed his head, Minna picked up her skirts to dash ahead of the soldiers, swinging around before them to block their path. The leading man thrust her to the ground and raised his sword to finish her off.
Kerrion leapt up. "Hold!"
The black hilt of a dagger sprouted from the soldier's throat, and he crumpled. Minna twisted to face the assassin, who stood, looking uncertain.
"Run!" she shouted again.
The soldiers charged past her, swords raised. Blade pivoted gracefully, belying his injury, and sprinted across the indoor garden.
The nobles blocked the room's only door, and no other way out remained but for the vast windows on the far side. Blade had no idea what lay beyond them or how high above the ground they were, nor did he much care. He flung himself through the nearest with a crash of shattering glass.
The wind tore at him as he fell, and he twisted, cat-like, to get his legs under him. The ground rushed up in a blur, then his feet hit it with a jarring impact, his knees buckling to absorb the shock. He flung out his hands, but the grass hit him in the face.
Chapter Nine
Kerrion went to Minna and helped her up, pulling her into his arms. She clung to him, and the soldiers turned from the smashed window and headed for the door.
"Is he dead?" he demanded.
They stopped and saluted. One said, "He lies still, Sire. We'll go and make sure."
"Before you do, I must ensure that none of you make the same mistake as your comrade." He nodded at the dead soldier who had raised his sword to Minna. "Any man who harms my wife shall perish at my hand, is that understood?"
The soldiers fell to their knees, bowing their heads. "Yes, Sire."
"Doubtless he would have heeded my command, but I would have killed him anyway."
The nobles at the door muttered at this statement, and Kerrion turned to glare at them. "Any who would find fault with that may speak now or remain silent!"
The muttering died away, then one man said, "She was trying to protect the man who injured Prince Ronan, Sire."
Kerrion released the Queen and stepped towards them. "He was a Jashimari lord, and he was goaded into this confrontation. My brother slew his sister before his eyes."
"He was the assassin," Ronan groaned.
Kerrion looked down at the Prince. "You have no proof of that."
"He admitted it!"
"You forced him to lie by threatening his sister."
Ronan shook his head, grimacing. "He was the assassin, I tell you."
"Your spies are ill informed. Lord Conash is a courtier. No assassin would attend my wedding in ful
l view of my entire court."
Ronan glared at his brother, unable to refute this statement without proof, and Kerrion knew that his triumph was slipping away. If the guards had witnessed Blade's mark, they were dead, and his younger brothers were mere boys. Their testimony would not hold much weight, since they would be suspected of supporting Ronan. It came down to his word against the King's, and few would go against their monarch. The only accusation he could make was the one that had cost him so dearly, and he cried it in a petulant tone.
"He tried to kill me!"
"And for that he must die, if he is not already dead," Kerrion said. "Although, had he been an assassin as you claim, surely he would have succeeded?"
Ronan growled, slumping back, and a noble said, "Sire, he may be escaping even as we speak."
"Indeed." Kerrion nodded at the soldiers. "Go and bring him here. I want him alive." They rose and loped out, and Kerrion glared at the gawping nobles. "The rest of you may leave. Where is the healer for my brother?"
"He has been summoned," a portly lord said.
"Then go and speed his progress! My brother is in dire need of him."
The nobles dispersed, muttering, and one ran off to find the healer. Kerrion went to the window and scanned the gardens below for Blade's body, but the grass beneath the window was empty. Minna joined him, and he turned to her with a reassuring smile.
"He is gone."
She sagged, gripping his arm. "Thank God."
"I delayed them for as long as I could. Let us hope he makes good his escape."
"Thank you."
He cupped her cheek. "That was a very foolish thing you did."
"He was not going to fight or flee."
"I know."
"I could not let him be cut down like that."
Kerrion looked around as a healer trotted in with two assistants, falling to their knees beside Ronan. His eyes narrowed. "Why did he not kill Ronan?"
"I do not know." She glanced at the body of Blade's sister. "Poor Alenstra."
Kerrion nodded, pondering. "We must try to help Blade escape across the desert. Perhaps Olan can find him."
"I doubt that he will trust a Cotti, but I am certain he will seek the aid of Commander Jayon."
"Ah, yes, the man Chiana sent to spy on me."
The healer approached, hesitating before he addressed the King. "Sire, your brother is gravely injured."
"How badly?" Kerrion demanded.
"Sire... he will die."
"How can you be so certain of that?"
The healer gestured towards his midriff. "He has been stabbed in the belly many times, and also in the back, piercing two vital organs there. It is as if the wounds were planned, placed exactly where they will do the most damage. He will rot from the inside. There is nothing I can do."
Kerrion nodded, and the healer returned to his patient. Minna waited until the King faced her again, looking grim but triumphant.
"So, Blade did not fail."
"No." She paused, frowning. "He has ensured that Ronan will suffer for the death of his sister. I always thought that when he offered a slow death, he tortured his victim, but now I see that this is what he meant."
"Blade could not torture anyone. He cannot stomach the sight of blood."
"You noticed that as well?"
He nodded. "It is obvious sometimes, although he certainly spills enough of it."
She looked worried. "I hope he is not too badly hurt."
Blade ran through the gardens, keeping to the cover of shrubbery as he made his way towards Shamsara's statue. At first he had been lost, for the gardens around the palace were vast and undisciplined, but now he moved into a more familiar area. The fall had dazed him, forcing him to seek the shelter of a bush while he regained his wits with a few vigorous shakes of his head. Amazingly, he had broken no bones, even though the window from which he had jumped had been two floors above the ground.
Years of leaping from high places had trained him to absorb the impact with his knees and roll, but still, it had been a hard landing. The wound in his side sapped his strength, and burnt with every stride. Although shallow, it bled copiously, soaking his shirt and trousers. He paused amongst a clump of palms to tear a strip from the bottom of his shirt and bind it, slowing the bleeding, then ran on, dashing from cover to cover.
By the time he reached the statue, spots danced in his eyes, and he dug under the stone with shaking hands. Drawing out the scrap of parchment secreted there, he read it, groaning at the words on it. Jayon had overhead Ronan mention the assassin's sister and wondered what it meant. Blade cursed the fact that he had not checked the message earlier. Turning the paper over, he hunted around for a twig and chewed the end to make it soft. Dipping it in the blood that oozed from his wound, he wrote a brief note, instructing Jayon to meet him at the palace stables. Shoving the paper back under the stone, he limped towards his destination.
When he flopped down in the soft straw, his head spun and his vision had dimmed. He checked his wound again, finding it still bleeding, and struggled to bind it with weak hands. The clatter of running feet and shouted orders outside made him climb to the top of the straw pile and burrow into it. There he settled down to wait, unable to run any further, and listened to the racing of his heart.
Two healers bent over the writhing, sweating form of Kerrion's brother. Ronan sprawled on his vast bed, smearing the silken sheets with blood. The healers had bound his wounds, stopping most of the bleeding, but Ronan refused to take the medicine they prescribed. He smashed the cup from a healer's hands and pulled himself up against the pillows, glaring at his brother.
"You cannot save him now."
The King jerked his head at the healers, who left. "What makes you think I will try?"
"I know you brought him here to assassinate your rivals."
"He was brought here to protect the Jashimari Queen, even as he protected me when I was her prisoner."
"Queen!" Ronan sneered. "She is just a woman!"
"Who once ruled a realm as powerful as ours."
"By an accident of birth."
"Because her mother and all her ancestors were queens, yes, I suppose so." Kerrion wandered closer to the bed. "Just as I rule because my father was a king, also an accident of birth."
"Now you will have to watch him tortured to death."
Kerrion shrugged. "Perhaps. But if I know Blade, he will not be found."
"He is wounded! He is trapped like a rat in a strange city, surrounded by hundreds of leagues of desert. Where can he go?"
"He escaped from here before."
Ronan grunted, fingering the bandages around his waist. "This time he will not get far. When he is caught, I shall decide his torture, maybe even have a hand in it myself, when I am well enough."
Kerrion shook his head. "You are not going to get better. Blade saw to that. He has two methods of assassination," he went on chattily, ignoring Ronan's shocked look. "One is the quick method, which he prefers, where the victim dies so swiftly that they do not feel any pain. The second is the slow method, an option he offers his clients, though few choose it, I understand. That is the one he has practised on you, in revenge for the death of his sister. You will die, though it may take several days, and, I understand, a great deal of pain."
"That is a lie!"
"No, I have it from the healer, and he was certain of it. Apparently you will rot from the inside, and soon the stench of you will be hard to bear. Blade has a reputation for never failing, and he has not this time, either."
"You ordered him to kill me, did you not?"
"Only if you plotted against the Queen, which you did. I had ordered your death, but the Queen countermanded it. Had you not killed Blade's sister, or continued to plot, you would have been safe."
"Countermanded?" Ronan snorted, then grimaced. "So you take orders from a woman now. Why does that not surprise me?"
"I intend to change things around here. Women will be treated better, and my wife will be Quee
n one day."
"You will pay for this," Ronan growled. "When the nobles find out about this, you will be overthrown."
"They are not going to find out. I have given strict orders that no one is to disturb you. You will see only the two healers, and they are loyal to me. In a few days you will be dead, and my troubles will be over."
"I am your brother!"
"Half-brother. I did not want to do this, but you goaded Blade, so I do not feel all that guilty about it."
Ronan sneered, "One thing is for certain, you will not have your pet eunuch assassin to do any more killing for you. At least our younger brothers will be safe from you."
Kerrion smiled. "I am touched by your concern, although I know it to be false. You would have killed them yourself if it made you king."
"I was not trying to overthrow you, only to keep our blood pure. You would put a half Jashimari bastard on the throne."
"Yes, just as the Jashimari now have a half-Cotti Queen. The war will never start again, once the kingdoms are ruled by brother and sister. As for trying to overthrow me, that would have been almost impossible to do once Lerton's plan failed, and I am sure you were a part of that too."
"Lerton would have made a better king than you."
Kerrion sighed. "Lerton would have carried on the war, which ultimately would have destroyed our people, and he would have rid himself of you, too."
"Just as you have."
Kerrion turned away. "I tire of this argument, it achieves nothing. I have explained myself quite enough. I would advise you to take the draught for pain. I understand this death is agonising."
"Damn you!" Ronan snarled. "You will not get away with this!"
Kerrion turned at the door. "I believe I already have."
As dusk fell, Blade's eyes flicked open and he tensed beneath the thin layer of straw. The sound that had alerted him was of someone walking cautiously, unlike the bustling grooms who had just finished feeding the horses. The running about of soldiers continued outside, but further away now. They had already searched the stables and left, now only the horses snorted and stamped in their stalls. He pushed aside the straw and peered out, spotting a dark form creeping along by the wall. Easing himself down the straw pile, he tried to get nearer, suppressing a groan. The intruder walked past a torch, and he made out Jayon's worried features.
The Queen's Blade III - Invisible Assassin Page 13