The Queen's Blade III - Invisible Assassin

by T C Southwell

"He does care for me, Elder Talon," Chiana stated.

  "No, my lady. I beg your pardon again, but I think not. He may care about you, and is proud of you, I'm sure, but nothing more. You're a thing he never thought to possess, yet he hates his inability to be a proper husband. The Elder Queen, may God rest her precious soul, did a wonderful thing when she made him a sacred Knight of the Veil. As you may know, eunuchs often find attachment to other men, but Blade had a mortal loathing of such a thing. I believe that's why he left me when he could."

  Talon coughed, looking embarrassed. "It's a delicate subject, Regent. Let's just say that he shuns all attachments for fear... not so much of hurting others but of being hurt himself."

  "But I would never do such a thing." Chiana blinked. "Why would he fear it? What could I do? I am his wife; I cannot leave him, nor spurn him."

  "No, it's not that which he fears. Doubtless he's certain of your affection, but the slightest hint that you long for children he cannot father, or the intimacy of which he is incapable, would injure him deeply, if he cared. Assurances of the opposite he would discount as lies, for he knows the ways of the world too well."

  Talon frowned at her sorrowful expression. "My dear lady, it grieves me to tell you these things, but I must. You cannot win his affection, no matter how hard you try. I would venture to say that he feels more for me than you, and that's little enough."

  She struggled to control her expression. "He has sworn that he would defend me, and avenge me if necessary, and that he would never harm me."

  "That doesn't mean he cares." Talon shook his head, looking pained. "He would guard you as he would his estate or a prized horse... I don't mean to insult you, but it's true. He looks upon you as a possession, nothing more. Naturally he would not harm you, any more than he would burn down his house or slaughter his horse. It's not love as you would wish it."

  "I see."

  Talon studied her. "I pray that you do, my lady. If the lady I love was killed, I should not only avenge her, but mourn for the rest of my life, even become sick with it, I'm sure. If you were killed, Blade would avenge you and perhaps regret your loss a little, but it would not touch him any deeper than that."

  "Is there no way to reach him?" Chiana hated to discuss such intimate details with a stranger, but Talon seemed sympathetic and understanding, drawing her further into the subject.

  He sighed. "If there is, I don't know it. Kindness, praise, or caring will not suffice, for mine did little. In fact, he seemed to prefer it when I was hard on him, and punished him for some wrong doing. Then he would become friendlier, but whether or not it was an act I cannot say. He's a complex man. Few would be able to understand him."

  "Perhaps his sister did. He found her in Cotti, one who survived, and she rejected him because of his trade."

  "I would guess that to be very bad for him, my lady. Whereas he may appear to thrive on harshness from those he doesn't care about, to receive it from one he does care for would be painful for him."

  Chiana stared at her empty wine cup, her thoughts distant, and Talon waited for her to return from her reflections. After a while, he murmured, "If you're contemplating some sort of test to try to divine his feelings, don't. You'll be the one who's hurt."

  She raised her head. "I was not. I am not a fool. I was merely pondering my unhappy situation. I have kept you too long from your other duties, please accept my apologies."

  Chiana put down her cup and rose, brushing at her skirts. Talon rose to his feet and bowed. He hesitated, then dug inside his jacket and produced a leather bag, opening the drawstring.

  "I brought this to give to you. I don't know what significance it has for Blade. It was tied around his neck when I found him, and I took it from him while he was unconscious. I felt that it was a source of great anguish to him, so I didn't give it back."

  He dipped his hand into the bag and drew out a hank of glossy, tightly braided black hair. One end was tied with a leather thong long enough to encircle a neck. Chiana took it and studied it. The hank was a good six hand spans long, and appeared to have been hacked off at one end.

  "One of his sisters, perhaps?" she suggested.

  Talon shrugged. "I have no idea. Perhaps he'll tell you now, since it's so far in the past, but I recommend that you delay until he's himself again."

  "I shall. Thank you."

  Talon bowed again. "My pleasure, Regent."

  After the elder assassin left, Chiana contemplated the hank of hair for many time-glasses, running it through her hands as she tried to imagine where it had come from and why Blade had carried it with him from the desert. It remained a mystery, however, for the assassin was still confined to the dungeons, and would be for some time yet.

  A further two tendays passed before Blade stopped shouting and tugging at his chains. During this time he found many ways to enrage and humiliate his jailers, so much so that Chiana was afraid to visit him. Then an icy calm descended on him, and his jailers found him sitting quietly, not resigned, but coldly seething.

  After one day of this, Chiana ordered his release. He went straight to his rooms and soaked in a tub for several time-glasses, scrubbing away the layers of dirt. As soon as he was dressed, he started packing, and was so employed when she went to visit him.

  Upon entering his room she received a cold glare, and she sank down on the bed when she saw his occupation. "You are leaving?"

  "What did you expect?"

  "I did not want to do it, I had to. I would not do it again."

  "You will not get the chance."

  "I am not going to try to stop you going this time. I know now that it is better if you leave." She noted the two daggers in his belt as he turned to take another shirt from the cupboard and stuff it into the leather bag. "Why do you not let Arken do that?"

  "I can do it quicker."

  "I must talk to you before you go."

  He shrugged. "So talk."

  "I had to stop you from drinking yourself to death."

  "Why bother?"

  She sighed, shaking her head. From his demeanour, he was beyond caring about her opinion or feelings. "I asked Talon to help, and he told me what to do."

  "I should kill that bastard, but I could not be bothered."

  "He gave me this." She pulled the hank of hair from the little bag and held it out.

  Blade stopped to gaze at it, then swung away again. "I wondered where that went. So he kept it all these years. I wonder why?"

  "He thought it was important to you."

  "He was wrong."

  "Is it your sister's?"

  He paused to stare at her. "What do you think I am, a ghoul?"

  "Whose is it then?"

  "It is mine."

  Chiana hesitated, confused. "Why?"

  Blade stuffed the last shirt into the bag and pulled the drawstring tight, then walked over to her and took the hank of hair, running it through his hands. "Keep it as a souvenir, if you want." He tossed it back to her.

  "Please tell me, Blade. Why did you cut it off and keep it?"

  Blade went to the door to bellow into the passage for Arken. When the servant appeared, Blade ordered a meal and a horse to be saddled in one time-glass. He wandered over to the window and stared out.

  "I should eat before I go," he muttered. "It will make a change from bread and water."

  "Yes, you should." She rose and approached him. "Tell me about the hair."

  "It is none of your business."

  "What harm can it do? I just want to know, that is all. I will not tell anyone else."

  He turned to face her, leaning against the ledge. "You asked Talon about my past, did you not?"

  "Yes."

  "And you cannot guess what happened?"

  "No."

  He shook his head. "And I thought you were clever."

  "Please tell me."

  "Or you will die of curiosity, I suppose?"

  "I may never see you again. At least tell me more about yourself before you go."

&n
bsp; The assassin sighed, bowing his head. "I suppose you deserve the truth, though I doubt you will like it. Perhaps it will sicken you so much that you will give up this foolish infatuation you have for me."

  He raised his head and met her eyes. "They would not let me cut my hair in the Cotti camp. At first I did not understand why, until they started dressing me as a girl. Making fun of me mostly, but there was something more to it than that. One night when they were toying with me in that manner, I slipped away into the darkness and escaped. I told you that I escaped the camp disguised as a woman, and that is how it happened. Once I was free, I cut my hair off and kept it to remind me of that night, that is all."

  "Is that the truth?"

  He smiled. "You were expecting something worse? Sorry to disappoint you, but Cotti men, despite their failings, are not tempted by boys. They merely found it amusing, entertaining, and perhaps fascinating that I looked so much like a girl at that age. I was not the only one they did it to; a lot of the castrated boys looked girlish. Talon noticed it too. I am sure he told you."

  "You said there was something more to it. What?"

  Blade's smile broadened. "I think some of them... how should I put it? Found me attractive? From recent experience I would say so. They must have found it frustrating, for I was the wrong sex, even though I looked tempting."

  "Was that why you were afraid when Talon suggested that you dress as a woman?"

  He chuckled. "I was not afraid. I was furious and insulted. I had not yet accepted what I was. I still searched every morning for that first hair sprouting from my chin. Of course it never appeared, the Cotti butcher did a good job."

  Chiana stroked the silken length of hair. "And when you went to Jadaya you cut it off again."

  "Only because I had to glue a wig on to escape the city. I do not suffer from those insecurities any more. I know what I am now. I find it quite amusing that I can appeal to either sex, depending on how I dress, do you not?"

  "I have not seen you disguised as a woman."

  "But you would like to."

  She studied him, trying to imagine the transformation. "I prefer you as you are."

  "I will wager you do."

  "Talon said you tried to throttle him when he painted your face for the first time."

  He looked thoughtful. "Yes, that is right, I did. But that was because of the way he looked at me. I got the impression he was wishing very much at that moment that I was a woman, and I left him in no doubt that I was not."

  "And you have been proving it ever since."

  "Very astute of you. It certainly made my job easy, though. Men do not suspect women. It is amazing how vulnerable and unguarded they are with one, when they would be wary of a man. If ever there was a woman assassin, she would be very successful."

  A knock came at the door, and Blade invited the applicant to enter. Arken came in with a plate of steaming lamb stew on a tray, and Blade sat down to consume it with relish. She watched him eat, trying to think of all the questions she longed to ask him, but her mind was too filled with the thought that he would be leaving so soon, and she longed to beg him to stay.

  "What will you do on your estate?" she asked.

  He glanced at her and shrugged. "Run it, I suppose. Maybe grow some crops, hunt in the woods, train a few apprentices."

  "You will not drink too much?"

  "I probably will, in your opinion."

  "Will you come and visit me?" She swallowed hard, struggling to hide her despair.

  "I hate travelling."

  "But would you, if I asked you to?"

  He studied her. "I suppose I could if I bought a fancy carriage, but the roads are not very good."

  "I shall have them repaired."

  "I suppose you will, Regent."

  Chiana looked down at her twisting hands, the prospect of his impending departure making her eyes sting. He had to leave for his own sake, though it tore her apart to let him go. Blade pushed aside his empty plate and rose, picking up the bag.

  "I hope my horse is ready."

  Chiana stood, fighting the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. "You will write to me?"

  "I have never been one for writing, apart from my memoirs, that is." At her downcast expression he sighed. "I will, when I remember. I suppose I shall have a lot of time on my hands."

  He walked to the door, and she fought the urge to run after him and drag him back. As he pulled it open, she swung around.

  "Blade."

  He turned, his brows raised.

  "Do you forgive me?"

  To her horror, he pondered the question. "For locking me in the dungeons? If I did not, do you think I would be friendly now? I just wish you had not bothered."

  She slumped with relief, and he turned to go. "Blade."

  He paused again, looking a little impatient this time. "What?"

  Chiana walked over to him, her legs like jelly, and looked up at him. "Will you not say goodbye? Perhaps a kiss?"

  He sighed. "For God's sake, Chiana."

  "Please, it would mean much to me."

  Blade smiled, an expression that did not banish the coldness from his eyes. She realised that Talon was right. He had changed, but she could not quite fathom the nature of it. He allowed her to clasp his face and press her lips to his in a bittersweet kiss that filled her with a greater sadness than before. When she stepped back, he shot her a final, mocking smile and turned to leave. It took all of her resolve and willpower not to call him back again. She went to her room instead and locked the door. Unable to watch him ride away, she flung herself down on the bed and wept.

  Later, Jayon came to see her, and, soon after learning of Blade's departure, left the palace also. He told no one where he was going, but Chiana guessed that he had gone after Blade, and wished that she could do the same.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jayon caught up with Blade just outside the city, and reined in his mount beside the assassin's. Although Blade did his best to ignore him at first, Jayon's cheerful chatter eventually evinced a response, and they rode companionably along the forest roads. Blade seemed not to be averse to his company, going against old instincts that dictated solitude, but, at the same time perhaps, curious about Jayon's wish for his society. Jayon wondered if the assassin had ever known loneliness, and whether this was his first experience of friendship. Doubtless many had tried to befriend Blade over the years, but none had succeeded, and Jayon hoped to be the first to lay claim to the assassin's amity.

  A few days into the journey, Jayon could no longer keep silent about the change he had noticed in Blade. Although the assassin carried his daggers again, he no longer seemed so aloof and impatient, and listened to Jayon's banter with good humour. Emboldened by his lack of hostility, Jayon sought to satisfy his curiosity.

  "You seem changed. It's for the better, of course, but what has caused it?"

  "Didn't you ask me this at the palace?"

  "Yes, but you only told me to fetch you another bottle of wine."

  Blade smiled. "Ah yes, and a fine vintage it was too."

  "Will you tell me now?"

  "I'm retired. Is it so strange that I should have changed?"

  "No, but what does it mean? Are you now capable of the feelings you claimed not to have before, such as friendship?"

  The assassin shot him a wry glance. "I never said I was incapable, only that I made no friends. Rest assured, I'm not so greatly changed. I have merely put down the burden of my trade, which dictated that I remain distant from others. Attachments are dangerous for an assassin."

  "How so?"

  "Well, few wish to be friends with assassins or to share their company, and those who do are generally seeking some advantage through it. Some wish only to partake in the tales of death an assassin can tell, but others crave information they can sell to the families of his victims. Some seek to ingratiate themselves to such an extent that they then feel they can lay claim to some advantage by association, such as protection.

&nbs
p; "They think that to be the friend of such a dangerous man will aid them in their lives. They want to use it as a threat in business or to shield them from their enemies. This cannot be. The services of an assassin are sold, not earned through friendship. If they were, we would be most popular, and very poor. From our side, a friend is a potential victim we cannot refuse to kill, should we be hired to do so."

  Jayon nodded, fascinated. "But how is it dangerous to you?"

  "In many ways. There's blackmail, for one. Any assassin who divulges the names of his kills and clients is likely to find himself paying dearly to keep it a secret. If he refuses to pay, his supposed friend may sell the information to the family of his kill, who would seek vengeance."

  "But surely an assassin could kill the blackmailer?"

  Blade smiled and shook his head. "No, we're forbidden to kill except when we're hired to do so, or in self-defence. An assassin could hire another to kill the blackmailer, but then he would find himself out of pocket once more."

  "But who would know? If an assassin had no scruples, he could strangle his blackmailer and throw him in the river. No one would be the wiser."

  "True, he could, but he would be taking a risk. If ever it was found out that he had done this, the Guild would strip him of his trade, and they have many spies. When an assassin named Slash was killed in the palace, before you came from the border, I was suspected of it and called before the Guild. Fortunately they believed me, or I might have had my mark burnt off that night."

  Jayon's gaze dropped to the base of Blade's throat, where his collar hid his tattoos. "Why do you have the mark?"

  "To prove our occupation. Before the Guild was formed there were many killers for hire, none with any training, and many who were inept. This led to botched killings, woundings and complete failures where killers were caught and tortured into divulging the name of their clients, who then paid the price.

  "People became wary of hiring a man to do the job, but they made an even worse job of it for the most part. The city guards spent all their time trying to track down murderers, and quite often executed the wrong men. So the Guild was formed, with all its rules and guidelines. Assassins are highly trained. They seldom fail, and if they're caught they never name their clients."