“But not amongst the Cotti. No, it is impossible.”
“Your kings take many concubines, and brag of them. To your people I would be your concubine; to mine you would be my consort. Is either office less insulting? If I can bear the shame of being your concubine in the eyes of your people, surely you can stoop to being my consort in the eyes of mine?”
He frowned. “You are too logical and too clever by far. But I plan to take no concubines and only one wife. I am not my father.”
“Then you plan that this war should truly be endless, and this does you little credit.”
Kerrion shook his head and stared out at the gardens again. Her proposition surprised him, put as it was in such cold terms. Over the past three days, his initial attraction to her had blossomed into something stronger, although he was not yet prepared to name it. His longing to return to his kingdom warred with an illogical wish to become better acquainted with this fascinating woman.
Never had he met such a strong-willed female, so bent upon her own way that she ran roughshod over others, and yet they took it gladly, if her smile rewarded them. She was exasperating and beguiling, a mixture of sharp wit and shy looks that entranced him. Her presence quickened his heart and gave him an irrational wish to impress her.
That she held him in little regard was evident from her cold-hearted plans to conceive his daughter, then send him back to his people, using their child to bring about peace. Her wishes were noble, however, and he had little objection to them. His father had tried to make him love war, and be proud of the struggle, but now he had seen its ugliness too. Yet he could not agree to her proposal. At best, he would be dethroned and the war would continue. At worst, both kingdoms would plunge into bloody civil war, and their rulers would pay the ultimate price.
He faced her once more, unable to meet her gaze. “I will not agree to this, Queen Minna-Satu.”
Minna rose to her feet. “Your people will not make war on the daughter of their king, any more than mine will wish to fight the father of their queen. It is the only way.”
“No. Return me to my people, and I shall stop the atrocities. Perhaps, in time, I can divert the nobles’ interest, start new industries, and the war will grow less fierce.”
“You are a coward, Prince Kerrion.”
“Think what you will. I will not be a part of your insane plan.”
Kerrion stalked out, and Minna sank back onto her cushions, her heart thudding with frustration and anger. Shista, sensing her distress, came over to rub against her and purr. Minna stroked her, the sand cat’s love a balm to her wounded pride. In all her planning and preparation, she had not entertained the possibility that the Prince might refuse. Shamsara’s prediction had been certain. If she captured the Cotti Prince unharmed, a child would be born to her that would be neither Jashimari nor Cotti, and she would heal the breach. Kerrion’s handsomeness and intelligence made her task easy, but his stubbornness was a challenge she must find a way to overcome.
The following day, she entertained the Prince again, but from the outset he looked to be on his guard. Each time she mentioned her proposal, he frowned or turned away, which was far more frustrating than if he had argued. She put forward every argument she could think of to persuade him, but he remained indifferent and rose to none of her bait.
Finally, her temper broke its bonds, and she thumped the table, making the crockery jump. “Damn you, Kerrion, you must see the sense in my proposal! It would pain me greatly to give you to Blade, and deal with your brother instead.”
“You would get no joy from him. Lerton is a snake. He would agree to your plan, then stab you while you slept.”
She grimaced. “I do not like snakes.”
“Few people do, especially cats.”
“Perhaps I should send Blade to threaten his life, then he would have the task of persuading his people to accept peace between us.”
Kerrion smiled. “Even the Invisible Assassin may fail to kill Lerton in his palace.”
Minna leant forward. “You know how he does it, do you not?”
He nodded. “A clever trick.”
“How? Tell me.”
“He prefers to keep it a secret.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You keep his secrets for him now? I thought you disliked him?”
“I do, but I also respect him. He made it plain that he would be unhappy if I divulged what I know.”
“So, you are afraid of him, too. Rest assured, it will go no further than me, and I shall not tell him that you told me.”
“We would all do well to be afraid of him. He is a dangerous man.”
“Tell me.”
Kerrion sipped his wine. “Why do you not order him to tell you?”
She pulled a face. “Order Blade? I hesitate to try. It would be far simpler if you just told me.”
The Prince toyed with his wine cup. “Simply put, he becomes a woman. A very beautiful one, I might add.”
“Of course; I suspected it.”
Kerrion stared into his wine. “It is uncanny. The first time I saw him, he was a Cotti woman with blonde hair and dark skin, a woman’s voice and graceful ways. No one would see through his disguise, I will wager. Not even someone who knew him as a man.”
“He must hate it.”
“I would say so.”
“Death walks beside him, and he will not escape it until he embraces it.”
Kerrion nodded. “He is aptly named, for he cuts both ways. No one is truly safe from him. Do not imagine that you have a hold of him, Minna. A blade cannot be safely grasped, it cuts any who try. Hold it lightly and you may be safe, take a firmer grip, and you will lose your fingers.”
His deduction impressed her. It made a great deal of sense. “I shall bear that in mind.”
After Kerrion left, Minna spent the afternoon wrestling with her problem. That he was not about to be persuaded was now obvious, so she had to find another way. Chiana’s interruption with the day’s business was unwelcome, and she dealt with it as quickly as possible.
By dusk, she had arrived at the only possible solution, and invited Blade to dine with her.
The assassin arrived at the allotted time, clad once more in his old clothes, and glanced around. “Has Kerrion fallen from favour, My Queen?”
“In some ways.”
They sat down to a simple meal, and Blade filled his wine cup. He smiled at her worried look. “Do not make yourself uneasy. I do not intend to get drunk.”
“I am glad to hear it, for there is a matter I wish to discuss with you.”
He spooned braised lamb cutlets in lemon sauce onto his plate. “Ah.”
Minna tried to fathom his mood, but his slight smile mocked her efforts. “I have been thinking about your reputation.”
He glanced at her, his smile fading.
She hurried on, “You are called the Invisible Assassin because no one sees you, so I must deduce that you are a master of disguise.”
Blade shrugged. “Yes.”
“I need your help in that regard. I need a disguise that no one can see through, even one who knows me.”
“I see.”
“Will you help me?”
He sampled the lamb. “How well does this person know you?”
“Quite well.”
“By voice as well as sight?”
“Yes.”
The assassin took a sip of wine. “And how close will the encounter be?”
“Very close.”
“Touching?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks warmed as Blade’s strange eyes seemed to pierce her soul with their chilly gaze, and she was glad when he lowered them to his plate.
“That makes it a little more difficult, for you will not be able to use skin dyes. They tend to rub off, unless you use the permanent variety, and I suspect you would not wish to do that.”
“No. I must be myself again the next day.”
His eyes flicked over her face again. “You will have to wear a wig. Red, I think.
Some kohl and powder, a little paint, and you must whisper.”
“All right.”
“When do you wish to do it?”
“Tomorrow night. I shall come to your room quite late. No one else must know of this. It must be our secret.”
“Very well. May I ask why you wish to do this, My Queen? You may have your pick of consorts.”
“I cannot tell you just yet, but one day soon, I shall.”
The assassin regarded her from under lowered brows. “I should warn you that Kerrion does not approve of loose women. He professes not to lie with whores, so be sure he does not mistake you for one. Whether he lies with anything is another matter, I know nothing of his preferences.”
Minna frowned, caught off guard. “How dare you? Do not presume to know what I intend.”
“Am I wrong?”
She hesitated. “No, you are right.”
“Then he is a fool if he does not desire you.”
“There is much more to it than that.”
“Politics.” His eyes narrowed. “This is folly.”
“What is?”
“To place the daughter of the Cotti King on the Jashimari throne.”
Minna sighed, shaking her head. “You are too clever.”
“I did not come this far on stupidity. Do you think your people will accept her?”
“They will have little choice. She will inherit by law.”
He concentrated on his food. “They may demand that you bear a pureblood Jashimari Queen. That is within their rights, I believe.”
“I shall not.”
“Obviously Kerrion does not agree with this scheme of yours, which shows some little wit on his part.”
“Does this mean you will not help me?”
He raised his eyes, and she met them with a defiant stare. He shook his head. “I have agreed to help you, My Queen. I do not go back on my word.”
She took a gulp of wine to steady her nerves. For the time it had taken him to answer, she had thought he would refuse. The possibility had shaken her, for she knew of no way to make him obey. “And you can make sure Kerrion does not recognise me?”
He shrugged and turned his attention to his meal once more. “A lot depends upon you. You will have to act the part of a servant or handmaiden. You must be humble and obedient. You may not argue or object to anything he wishes. The best way is to imagine that you are who you claim to be, give yourself a name and take on the personality of the person you wish to emulate. Forget that you are a queen and become an awestruck handmaiden whose greatest wish is to bed the Cotti Prince. Do you think you can do that?”
Minna nodded. “Is that how you do it?”
“No. I am an assassin. I would be of little use if I forgot that.”
“Of course.” She resumed her meal. “Is there anything else I must do?”
“Yes. Bathe before you come to me and use no oils or perfume. I shall purchase something exotic and unfamiliar for you to wear.”
She smiled at the incongruous picture his words conjured up. “Will it not seem strange for a man to buy perfume and women’s clothes? What will the traders think?”
“Men buy such things for their wives and sweethearts all the time. There is nothing strange about it.”
“I suppose so.” Her smile broadened. “Have you ever bought such things before?”
He frowned. “This venture of yours may still fail, if the Prince is as he claims, and unmoved by your charms. I shall purchase a potion as well, which you must put in his wine at dinner. It will make him more... amenable.”
The Queen pushed her food around her plate, her cheeks warming again. After the maidens cleared away the plates, she leant back and studied him. His reticence irritated her. She longed to know more about him, but knew he would not discuss his past with her, nor had she Kerrion’s knack of goading him into speech. Blade sipped his wine and studied a tapestry.
Minna asked, “Have you no objection to a queen who is the daughter of your enemy?”
He glanced at her. “By the time she takes power, I shall either be dead, or too old to care.”
“I know you despise this plan, but it is not mine.”
“No?”
“No. Some moons ago, I summoned Shamsara and asked for his advice. He gave me a prediction; that peace will come to the land when a child who is neither Jashimari nor Cotti sits upon the Jashimari throne.”
“What of the Cotti throne? Why should their blood remain unsullied while we have a half-breed queen?”
She inclined her head. “That is an excellent point, I grant you, but I doubt a Jashimari bride would live long in Cotti, even under Kerrion’s protection. Still, it should be attempted.”
“What of your daughter? Do you think that she will live long if the people hate her?”
“They cannot kill their queen. That would leave them without a ruler, and plunge the land into anarchy. Kerrion would invade and conquer Jashimari.”
“They will not kill you, My Queen, only your daughter. Then you will have to bear another heir, and Kerrion will have returned to his kingdom.”
“That is why I shall need you,” she said. “My loyal spies will inform me of the plots, and you will take care of those who would pit themselves against me. When it is announced that the Idol of the Beasts has sanctioned this child, even some who dislike the idea will take my side.”
Blade appeared to lose interest, turning his attention elsewhere once more, and, shortly after, Minna-Satu gave him leave to go.
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Blade walked into the city. He declined the horse the grooms offered, for he had ever been more comfortable on foot, and found it less conspicuous. Clad in his dark clothes, he strolled along the broad streets that ran through the centre of Jondar. The metropolis bustled with people, mostly well-dressed merchants and nobles, in this more affluent area.
Carriages rumbled past on the cobbled streets, and sweaty servants carried ladies in sedan chairs. Street cleaners collected dung to fill the little carts they pulled, which they would add to the vast compost heaps on the city’s outskirts. When it was sufficiently mature, they would sell it to farmers and gardeners to enrich their soil.
Noblemen rode in gossiping groups, or sprawled on benches outside drinking establishments and sipped ale or wine. An occasional park afforded a place for the children of nobles and merchants to play when the schools closed. Officers of the Watch patrolled, on hand to chase away urchins or pickpockets who strayed from the slums. Most of the buildings were constructed from dressed stone, their steep grey slate roofs designed to slough off the winter snow.
Merchants displayed their wares under tarpaulins outside their shops, and women examined bolts of cloth or haggled over ornaments, jewellery and leather goods. Many nobles watched Blade pass with narrow eyes, but while his garb hinted at his profession, it did not reveal it sufficiently to evoke any spitting or rude comments.
Blade was more at home when he reached the narrow, filthy back alleys in which he had spent so much of his life. Beggars rattled tin cups at passers-by, and pickpockets moved amongst the pedestrians with busy hands. Men stepped from his path with furtive glances, while harridans nudged their fellows and cast him knowing looks. A few thin horses pulled rickety carts, and rising damp stained the white-washed buildings. The stench of garbage mingled with the sickly scent of incense and stale ale. Drunkards lay in the gutter or slumped in doorways, their pockets picked clean.
Raucous singing emanated from taprooms, and housewives threw buckets of slops into the gutter. Urchins picked through the garbage and fought with dogs for scraps of bread. Threading his way through the whores and beggars, Blade headed for a building tucked away in a dead end street. He entered a dingy taproom populated by a few drunken men and several dishevelled harlots. Rough-hewn tables and benches cluttered the soot-stained room, and mildewed rushes covered the floor. A glance into the darkest corners ascertained that the one he sought was not there, and he gripped the arm of
a passing trollop. She leered up at him, but he ignored her gap-toothed invitation.
“Where’s Lilu?” he asked, using the common speech.
Her smile vanished. “Her again! She’s in the back, but she’s busy. I’m not, though.”
He pushed her away. “I can see why.”
The whore cursed him vilely as he made for the dirty curtain that separated the rooms at the back from the taproom. As he neared Lilu’s room, he became aware of thuds and shrieks coming from within. Not caring if he interrupted her client, he pushed open the sagging door and walked in.
Lilu knelt before a brawny man who gripped her tangled brown hair. Blade eyed them, and Lilu cried, “Blade! Help me! He’s trying to kill me!”
The man shook her. “Liar! I want my money back, you filthy whore! You stole from me!”
Lilu wailed, “Help me, Blade!”
The assassin leant against the wall and folded his arms. “If you stole from the man, give it back.”
“I can’t! I don’t have it anymore!”
The man growled and slapped her. “You’d better find it, you damned whore!”
Lilu clutched her torn dress and wailed again, clawing at the big man’s beefy hand. “Let me go, you bastard! Don’t you know what he is?”
The man glanced at Blade, who shrugged. He recognised the man as a local armourer, a towering giant covered with muscles earned from years spent at the forge. He had no intention of tangling with such a brute.
“I’ll not interfere,” he assured the armourer.
“Damn you, Blade!” Lilu shrieked. “You owe me!”
“Be quiet, bitch!” the man roared, dragging her towards the lumpy, rumpled bed. “I’ll take it out of your hide until you give me back my money!”
“No!” Lilu grabbed at passing furniture. “He’ll kill you! He’s my friend!”
Blade raised his brows a fraction at this assertion, and the armourer snarled, “That little runt won’t lift a finger to help you, trollop!”
Lilu seized a candle-holder and beat the man about the head with it. He yanked it from her grasp and flung it across the room, narrowly missing the assassin. Lilu’s beating further enraged the man, who pinned her to the bed and slapped her. She clawed at his eyes, making him roar with pain, then kicked him in the shins. He grabbed her throat and throttled her.
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