"Yes, I am. So would you be if you found yourself alive when you wanted to be dead."
Chiana sank down on the edge of the bed, stunned by his harsh words. "But you cannot be allowed to die."
"Ah, now the truth comes out. Who has decided this, hmm? Tinsharon himself, I hope."
"As a matter of fact -"
"Do not try to spin some stupid tale!"
She shook her head. "How else could you have survived? As you said, your wound was fatal. You were dying. Shamsara saved you. He said you must not die, or the future would be filled with blood."
Blade frowned at her. His exertion had increased his pallor, and sweat dampened the tendrils of hair that clung to his brow. His silence alarmed her, and she fought the impulse to take his good hand in an attempt to comfort him. Doubtless he would only rebuff her.
"He said that you would not thank him for it," she offered lamely.
He sighed, turning his head to stare into space. His anger had left him, and now he seemed resigned. "He was right."
Chiana took his right hand, braving his displeasure, but he ignored her. "He said that you still have a destiny to fulfil."
"More people to kill."
"Maybe not."
"So, now I know why I was not killed in the raid that took my family, and did not die of the disease in the desert nor starve after I escaped. This is why Talon rescued me from the gutter, and Lilu saved me when I should have died. Even Kerrion... did not kill me, and Jayon..." He glanced at her. "He is dead, is he not?"
She nodded. "He was buried on your estate."
"I could not even kill myself, and when fate failed to save me, the damned Idol of the Beasts rushes here to do it. All for what? A bloody killer?"
"You have saved my life twice and now Kerra-Manu's twice as well, Kerrion's too. Shamsara said that if any of us die, the future will be steeped in blood. So perhaps you will save us again, and that is why you must live."
He let his head flop back and stared at the ceiling. "Wonderful."
Chiana smiled, tightening her hold on his hand. "I am glad you will be here to look after us."
Blade pulled his hand away. "I will wager you are, but I am not." He frowned. "What makes Shamsara think I will do it, anyway?"
"He says it is your destiny."
"Destiny has ill-used me, and I am sick of being its pawn. If I can, I will slip its leash, perhaps by getting as far away from here as I possibly can."
Chiana went cold. "But what if we need you? Will you leave us to die if that is what lies ahead for us?"
"Why should I care what happens to you? I am not your keeper or your watchdog, and I only became your husband at the Queen's command. I did not kill King Shandor out of patriotic zeal. I did it for revenge, and the riches and lands Minna offered. As fate would have it, that was a mistake, and one I intend to rectify now that I have the chance.
"I will not be part of your damned plotting and subterfuge any more. If my estate is not far enough from Jondar to stay out of harm's way, then I shall take myself off to parts unknown, where no one will ever find me. There is much to be said for anonymity, and I intend to reclaim it. I have had my fill of this damned lordship farce."
"How can you be so ungrateful after what Shamsara did for you?"
He glared at her. "What did he do for me? Saved my worthless life, just when I had thought to be free of it. You, who put such store in life, and cling to it with such fervour, would never understand what a burden is to someone who does not want it."
"You did not seem so eager to die -"
He thumped the bed with his good hand. "I wept for joy, you stupid girl."
Chiana stood up. "Then go! See if you can find death, if Shamsara or destiny or whatever it is, perhaps Tinsharon himself, will let you. But you have only to look beside you to find it. That is where it walks, in your shadow." She spun away and headed for the door.
"I know that! It is the only friend I have!" He tried to sit up, but sank back with a groan. "Damn it woman, do not turn your back on me! I am speaking to you. Chiana!"
She turned at the door. "What do you want? Would you like me to poison your soup?"
Blade glared at her, then his lips curved into one of his most beautiful, heart-rendingly sweet smiles. Chiana looked away, and he chuckled. "At times you do show a little fire. I suppose you could do that, if you want to give Shamsara a lot of exercise. But I doubt he will be very pleased."
She looked down at her hands, waiting until his mirth subsided, then raised her head. "Why must you be so horrible?"
Blade studied her, looking thoughtful, then crooked a finger at her. "Come here, and I will tell you."
Chiana walked over to the bed, curious and confused by his sudden mood swing. She warned herself that when Blade seemed to be friendly, he was usually at his most dangerous. He held out his hand, and she took it, a chill running through her at his touch. He continued to smile sweetly, his angelic expression making her shiver.
"Come closer. Sit beside me."
Chiana sank down on the bed, her eyes fixed on his face. She prided herself on her lack of fear of him, but found her breath quickening with unease. His proximity made her skin prickle and her heart race, and she fought the insane impulse to throw herself into his arms. He watched her, but his smile did not reach his eyes. He slid his hand up to her wrist, gripping it.
"You want to know why?" His voice was so soft that she had to lean closer to hear him. "Because I am denied so much of this life, and it treats me ill at every turn. I can never have what others do, but am condemned to deal out death instead. Death is my only friend. It has made me rich and filled me with hate." He pulled her closer, meeting her eyes with a chilling gaze. "So you see, it is just the way I am, and you will never change me, try though you might."
"But -"
Blade released her wrist and pressed his fingers to her lips, then slid his hand up to caress her cheek. She trembled at the cold seduction of his expression, longing to press her lips to his, her breath catching in her throat. His soft voice made her shiver.
"How much do you wish that I loved you? What would you give to hear those words from me?"
"Anything. Nothing could make me happier." She leant closer, pressing her cheek to his hand and lifting hers to hold it against her skin as tears stung her eyes.
His smile widened. "Ah, Chiana, what a little innocent you are. How naive... and stupid." His voice hardened on the last words, and his hand slid behind her neck, then flashed up to grip her hair. She found herself trapped in a painful hold, and gasped in shock and outrage at his betrayal of her trust.
"Now tell me how Shamsara saved me."
"Let me go!"
"When you tell me."
"Damn you, Blade!"
"Tut, tut." He shook his head. "Such language from a lady. How did he save me?"
"He gave you his blood."
"And what did he say?"
She gasped, trying to pry his fingers from her hair. "Nothing!"
"Do not lie to me." He twisted his hand, making her whimper. "What did he tell you?"
"Please let me go!" She squeaked as he jerked her hair, the pain making her eyes water.
"Tell me what he said to you, and I will let you go."
"He told me not to tell you what he said."
"Did he? But if you want me to let you go, you will have to."
Chiana aimed a slap at his face, and Blade's left hand flashed up to block the blow. He grunted when her hand struck his broken fingers, releasing her to grip his wrist as if trying to stem the tide of pain flowing up his arm. Chiana jumped out of reach, her anger turning to remorse. He grimaced, biting his lip as sweat popped out on his brow.
"I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you," she said.
"Get out," he snarled.
"I am sorry."
"Out!"
Chiana walked to the door, then turned to face him again. "Shamsara said that he gave you many years of his life when he healed you. You will live a l
ong time."
Blade grabbed the water jug on the bedside table and hurled it at her, making her duck as it whistled past her head and smashed into the wall beside the door, spraying water. She straightened, brushing moisture from her sleeve.
"You cannot frighten me, Blade. I know you too well now."
"Get out."
Chiana left, closing the door behind her, and leant against it while she waited for her legs to stop shaking. Her words had not been a lie, for it was not fear that made her tremble. Her love for him burnt within her like a flame, at times flaring up to sear her wounded heart. The emotion that filled her when she was near him threatened to rob her of her self-control and make her beg him once more for some small gesture of affection.
Only her pride, and the knowledge of the futility of such a plea, kept her from making an utter fool of herself. She closed her eyes with a sigh, relishing the memory of that precious moment of closeness, the powerful seduction he had unleashed to ensnare her as he had done to so many of his victims. Pushing herself away from the door, she went to find Verdan and send him to Blade with a pain draught. She tried to sort through the astonishing turmoil of emotions that filled her. Now she wished she had not told him of Shamsara's gift, for it would only bring him sorrow.
Blade stared at the ceiling, his teeth gritted. His hand throbbed with vicious intensity. How long was he doomed to live for now? The prospect appalled him, and he cursed the Idol of the Beasts. He recalled Chiana's last words and smiled. She was right, she knew him too well. He was surprised she had bothered to duck; she knew he had not aimed to hit her with the jug. If he had, ducking would not have saved her from a painful bruise. If nothing else, he had to admit that his wife was courageous, sometimes even intelligent, though gullible. Verdan came in with a cup, and he sighed at the prospect of sweet oblivion.
For the next tenday, Verdan kept Blade drugged to dull the pain, and he slept most of the time. When he woke, he made everyone's life miserable with his ill temper and cutting tongue, so much so that even Arken lost patience with him. Chiana spent all her free time at his bedside, but the affairs of state left her only a time-glass or so each day, and Blade showed no appreciation for her company. He occupied his time reading, taking little interest in life outside his room, and Chiana feared that he would slide back into his depression.
Denied access to the cellars due to his immobility, however, he retained his icy aloofness. There was a sham of an enquiry into Prince Armin's death, a formality soon swept under the rug. Kerrion evinced little remorse at his half-brother’s demise, and Armin's attack on the Queen condemned him anyway. Blade was weaned off the pain draughts as his wounds healed, and his temper grew worse as boredom set in.
An entire moon phase passed before he was able to exercise with the aid of a stick, a terrible limp hampering him. The bones of his leg healed straight, and Verdan claimed the assassin's recovery to be a great triumph of medical science. Chiana thought it more likely to be the result of Shamsara's gift. The fingers of Blade's left hand also healed perfectly, and no trace remained of the terrible injuries the Cotti torturer had inflicted. His handicap continued to sour his mood, however, and this time Jayon was not there to tend him. Blade never spoke of the young commander, nor showed any remorse at his death.
A tenday later, Chiana woke to find a white shay flower on the pillow beside her. She did not need to go to Blade's room to know that it was empty, nor question the grooms to discover that a horse was gone from the stables. She clasped the delicate, spidery bloom to her as tears ran down her face and splashed onto its petals. Her love for the strange, enigmatic man would never die, but shay flowers were used at funerals, and it was his way of telling her to mourn him as if he was dead, for he would never return.
*****
The tale continues in Book IV, Knight of the Veil, Book V, Master of the Dance, and Book VI, Lord Protector. Then get the two prequels, Dead Son and God Touched.
About the author
T. C. Southwell was born in Sri Lanka and moved to the Seychelles when she was a baby. She spent her formative years exploring the islands – mostly alone. Naturally, her imagination flourished and she developed a keen love of other worlds. The family travelled through Europe and Africa and, after the death of her father, settled in South Africa.
T. C. Southwell has written over twenty novels and five screenplays. Her hobbies include motorcycling, horse riding and art, and she earns a living in the IT industry.
All illustrations and cover designs by the author.
Contact the author at [email protected]
Acknowledgements
Mike Baum and Janet Longman, former employers, for their support, encouragement, and help. My mother, without whose financial support I could not have dedicated myself to writing for ten years. Isabel Cooke, former agent, whose encouragement and enthusiasm led to many more books being written, including this one. Suzanne Stephan, former agent, who has helped me so much over the past six years, and Vanessa Finaughty, good friend and business partner, for her support, encouragement and editing skills.
The Queen's Blade III - Invisible Assassin Page 27