The Queen's Blade II - Sacrifice

by T C Southwell

  "Do you like my gown, My Lord?"

  He glanced at her. "Very nice. Is it new?"

  "Of course. I would have expected you to take more interest. After all, you paid for it."

  "Did I? I trust that my coffers are not utterly empty."

  "I doubt that they are much depleted, My Lord, since they were over-full at the outset."

  "Good." He turned his attention back to his wine cup.

  Chiana glanced at the Queen, noting the way Minna's eyes rested upon the cup in Blade's hand. "The Queen appears to disapprove of your fondness for the wine."

  "The Queen disapproves of many things. This stuff is so watered down it would take a tenday to get drunk on it." He shot her a hard look. "Are you my watchdog now, set to yap your warnings in my ear all night?"

  "No, of course not." Chiana frowned, puzzled by his hostility. "But there will be dancing soon, and I had hoped to take the floor with my husband."

  "Another duty?" He snorted and sipped the wine. "Is there no end to your demands, my lady?"

  "It is not a demand. Why are you so angry?"

  The assassin sighed and put down his cup. "I tire of all this pomp and finery. It is meaningless and decadent, and I wonder why I ever wanted it. There are times, like now, when I wish I had never come here. I should have stayed in the slums, where I lived in a tiny room next door to a drunken whore.

  "At least she was a real person, not a facade of smiles and chatter to disguise a plotting mind. In fact, this is not what I had in mind even then. All I wanted was a nice quiet estate where I could be sure of a warm bed and three good meals a day. Instead, I have become the Queen's pet assassin, a slave to her whims, and for what? Foppish clothes and a fancy title."

  Chiana gazed at him, saddened. "And an unwanted wife."

  "That too."

  She blinked. "There is nothing to prevent you returning to the gutter if that is what you wish, My Lord."

  "Is there not?" He drained his cup and filled it again. "Do you think for one moment that the Queen would allow such a defection? She would have me dragged back here, in chains, if necessary."

  "Perhaps, but I am certain that the palace dungeons are comparable to the hovel you lived in before."

  He glanced at her, his brows raised. "Indeed, they may very well be. You have a barbed tongue, when you choose."

  "Only when I am angry, My Lord."

  "Ah, the unwanted wife. This offends you? When you knew from the outset that it was a marriage of convenience? What use is a wife to a eunuch?"

  "What use is a eunuch to his wife?"

  "Exactly." He nodded. "We are of no use to each other, yet I had less choice in the matter than you. No matter how much you deny it, you thought to win my affection after we were wed. Unfortunately for you, I have none to win."

  "No matter how much you deny it, I know that you do."

  Blade laughed, raking her with a caustic glance. "Do you? How refreshing to meet someone who knows my mind better than I."

  Chiana looked away, biting her lip in vexation. She jerked in surprise when Blade took hold of her hand, his clasp soft and warm. Raising her eyes to meet his, she found a slight warmth tempering their icy grey.

  "Let me say this at least," he murmured, still smiling. "I would not kill you now for all the gold in Jashimari."

  Her heart leapt and started to hammer, her breath quickening. "Then you do care a little?"

  Blade chuckled, squeezing her hand. "You are my wife, foolish girl. There are no laws for the wives of assassins, since you are the only one, but I am sure that an assassin should be forbidden from killing his wife."

  Chiana's joy vanished as quickly as it had arisen, and she longed to snatch her hand away, but could not bring herself to end the magic of his touch. "You mock me."

  "No." His smile faded, and he glanced down at her hand. "I am not a cruel man. I abhor suffering of any sort, which is why I kill painlessly unless instructed otherwise, and am paid handsomely for it. Many assassins enjoy inflicting pain, but for me, killing holds neither joy nor sorrow.

  "Perhaps I felt a little triumph when I killed King Shandor, but that was vengeance. I would have liked him to know that his savagery honed the instrument of his death, but there was no time. I cannot offer you affection, even gestures such as this are alien to me now." He patted her hand and released it to pick up his wine cup.

  Chiana clenched her hand, which became cold at the loss of his touch. "I would be most grateful for some small gestures, My Lord."

  "Would you? Even though you know them to be false, and so does everyone else?"

  "Even so."

  Blade gazed at her. "How odd. Could you explain this strangeness to me, or is it beyond even your comprehension?"

  "I fear that it is." She swallowed, not daring to look at him in case there was mockery in his eyes. The last dregs of pride deserted her as she contemplated how little time she might have in his company before the war tore them apart. "I only know that I long for some small tokens of affection from you, no matter how false they may be."

  The assassin stared at her for a long time, his wine cup forgotten. Chiana studied her hands, refusing to look at him. Tears stung her eyes when he took her hand again and held it, and she dared to peek at him.

  He frowned at her hand as he said, "If this is love, then I am glad that I am immune to it, my lady. If it can strip a person of their pride and dignity, and reduce them to begging for false gestures and lies, it is truly an unpleasant thing. You have my pity."

  "Your pity is not what I long for, but it will do, although I do not deserve it. My feelings bring me joy, even though they are unrequited. That you are my husband is a source of great happiness to me, and whatever else you see fit to grant me by way of privilege, such as the one you have just recounted, will add to my cheer."

  "That I would not kill you?" He chuckled. "I hardly find that such a reason to rejoice, it betokens little."

  "You are wrong. It means much to be one of only three people in the world who are safe from you."

  "Three?"

  "The Queen and the Princess are of course safe, are they not?"

  He sighed, his expression wry. "I recall telling Prince Kerrion that I would slay the Queen if I was paid enough. But I suppose you are right. I can hardly kill my employer."

  "She is your Queen."

  Blade shrugged, releasing her hand to pick up his wine cup again. Chiana raised her eyes to find him toasting Minna-Satu across the table with a mocking smile. When he looked at her again, she searched his face for contempt or mockery, but found only amusement and pity there, to her relief.

  In the throne room, a band of pipers, fiddlers and drummers had struck up a merry tune, and many people rose to wander into the chamber to dance. Minna-Satu accepted the invitation of one of her senior lords and went with him, casting a last hard look at Blade. The assassin smiled and leant back, draining his wine cup yet again. Chiana whipped up her flagging courage and consigned her pride to a dark corner of her mind, turning to her husband.

  "Blade, we have only a tenday, maybe two, before the war reaches this city. I had thought, in that time, we might make the most of... each other's company."

  He refilled his cup. "Did you?"

  "Yes, and I would like us to... be together."

  "What did you have in mind?"

  Since he seemed quite amenable, she concluded, "I would like you to stay with me in my rooms."

  Blade choked on the wine he had just swallowed and coughed, reaching for a napkin. Clearing his throat, he cast her an incredulous glance. "And do what? Play card games? Should I help you with your embroidery perhaps?"

  She waited until he took another gulp of wine. "No, I meant at night."

  The assassin clamped the napkin over his mouth as he choked again. Several people stared at him in disapproval as he coughed and gasped, thumping his chest. When he had cleared the wine from his windpipe, he turned to her. "You are serious?"

  Chiana nodded, and he dou
bled up with mirth, earning more stern looks from his neighbours. She hid her embarrassment behind a bright smile, trying to act as if her husband was laughing at her wit and not her humiliation. Blade continued to chuckle for several minutes, then coughed and rubbed his ribs. "You will reopen my wound if you make many more jokes like that, Chiana."

  "I am in earnest, My Lord."

  "Indeed, I had noticed." He looked thoughtful, as if searching for a suitable reply. "Unfortunately, my lady, I am unable to oblige, since I have been instructed to spend my nights in the Queen's bed chamber, guarding the Princess."

  Her heart sank, but at the same time hope surged in her. "Then you are not averse to the idea?"

  "I did not say that. The idea is, quite frankly, laughable. Surely I do not need to tell you why."

  "No, but husband and wife can find much joy simply for each other's closeness, there need be no other reason."

  Blade chuckled again. "In this case the wife alone would benefit."

  "Do I ask too much of you, My Lord?"

  He sighed, reaching for his wine. "It is impossible."

  "Were it not impossible, would you agree?"

  "Chiana, do not plague me with so many damned questions." He frowned. "Let it be."

  She lowered her eyes and sipped her fruit juice as Blade turned his attention elsewhere.

  The Queen returned to take her seat opposite once more, and her vigilance of the assassin's drinking. He smiled and raised his cup to her again, making great show of draining it. Minna's expression became daunting, and Chiana cast her husband a worried glance. The band struck up a new tune, giving her an idea.

  "My Lord, will you dance with your wife?"

  "I thought it was the province of a gentleman to ask such a question," he growled.

  "But I am certain that you will not."

  "And you are right. I have no wish to join that ponderously clumping, toe-trampling herd."

  "Just because they are like that, does not mean that you must do the same."

  He chuckled. "I can just imagine their horror if I was to give them one of Swift's uncouth exhibitions."

  "I think they would be most impressed."

  "No. Even if I was of a mind to, you could never keep up with me."

  She raised her chin. "I am an excellent dancer."

  "I am sure you are, my lady, but no."

  "It would mean much to me."

  Blade rolled his eyes in exasperation at her persistence. "I have no wish to look a fool."

  "Why would you? If anyone will look a fool it will be me, and I am not afraid of that."

  He groaned and cast her a despairing look. "Have you no pride, woman?"

  "No."

  "I have never danced with a woman."

  "Then it is time you learnt, do you not think? New experiences are the best part of life."

  The assassin glanced at the throne room, where couples swayed and strutted to the slow music. "Not in front of the entire court."

  "You are too full of pride, My Lord. Who cares what they think? You may find the experience enjoyable."

  Blade drained his cup and banged it down, glaring at it. Clearly her nagging was starting to annoy him, and she looked away to hide her disappointment. To her surprise, he took her hand and stood, pulling her to her feet.

  "Just one."

  Chiana smiled and nodded, her heart buoyed with elation.

  Blade guided her towards the throne room. "I do this for pity's sake."

  A little of her happiness ebbed away, but she reminded herself that his pity was rarely, if ever, acquired. When they reached the floor, the tune ended, and the band struck up a faster, gayer air. Chiana guided Blade's left hand to her waist and took his right hand in hers, setting out on the skipping pace of the dance. He followed her steps with ease, as she had known he would, as if he had done it all his life.

  Chiana smiled as they circled the room, certain that the memory of this moment of joy would stay with her all her life. His light touch on her waist sent shivers through her, and his closeness thrilled her unbearably, making her long for the greater intimacy of a slower dance. After watching the other couples, Blade spun her in a swirl of skirts, and she giggled. As he gained confidence he added new steps to the dance, giving a little hop and backward flick of his legs. Without the steel caps his boots made no sound, but his grace set him apart from all others.

  Perhaps the wine helped, but soon he spun her until she grew dizzy, stepping back to tap out a complicated, silent tattoo. Nevertheless, the effect was impressive, and some of the other couples stopped to watch him. Blade seemed oblivious to the growing audience, making up his own moves now as he tapped and jumped, flicking his legs up behind him. He gripped her waist and swept her along with him, his feet flying over the floor while hers barely kept pace. Although she did her best to keep up, a couple of times she stumbled, but he caught her with ease and incorporated her loss of balance into the dance flawlessly. His dance was subdued and simple compared to the Dance of Death, yet far better than any she had ever seen performed at court. Chiana wished that it could continue forever, but the music ended, and Blade stopped and bowed.

  Spontaneous applause burst from the nobles, and she became aware that they were the centre of attention, the only couple still dancing before an admiring throng. Blade frowned and led her from the floor, but not before she had glimpsed young noblemen attempting to emulate Blade's steps.

  "It seems that you have started a new trend," she commented as she flopped gasping into her chair.

  "A short-lived one." He picked up his cup.

  "I would not be so sure."

  "I would. The war will end all this soon enough."

  Her smile faded at the sobering thought, and she turned in surprise as a young nobleman appeared at Blade's side, bowing. He wore a lopsided wig, and his garish clothes branding him a court fop.

  "My Lord," he said, "I would be honoured if you would teach me to dance as you do, and I would pay handsomely for the privilege."

  Blade scowled at the hapless boy. "Begone. Go fawn over someone else."

  The fop retreated, meeting up with a group of his cronies, to whom he imparted his sorrowful news. Chiana giggled at Blade's stormy expression.

  "You could make a good living, I will wager."

  He glared, then smiled. "Can you imagine it?" He shook his head. "Me teaching a classroom of those dandies to dance?"

  Chiana laughed with him, a precious moment that she knew would never be repeated, but it made the magical night complete. Soon after, Blade claimed to be tired and left the ball. Chiana gazed after him sadly, although a spark of joy still burnt within her. Her waist tingled from his touch and her heart ached for the words and gestures of affection that she would never receive from him. If all she could ever attain was his friendship she would be content, even though she longed for more.

  Reaching his rooms, Blade flopped down on his bed, then remembered that he was to sleep in the Queen's rooms and went there. The manservant who awaited him jumped up at his entry, looking worried.

  "My Lord, the Queen has not yet returned."

  Blade waved him away. "Let the spies think that I'm visiting the Princess or the damned sand cat, I don't care."

  The man looked embarrassed. "I will need your clothes, My Lord."

  "Am I to confront this assassin naked?"

  "No, My Lord, I have other clothes for you."

  The manservant picked up a bundle of leather clothes and held it out, and Blade took it with a nod. When they had exchanged clothes, the servant showed him a narrow cot hidden behind some curtains, and the assassin lay down on it with a sigh.

  The sound of the door opening woke him, and soft footfalls crossed the floor. A waft of flowery scent told him that the Queen had returned, and he did not bother to open his eyes.

  Minna approached the curtains and pulled them aside, frowning at the sleeping assassin. His lack of alertness annoyed her, and she stamped her foot, growing angry when he did not r
ouse. Determined to teach him a lesson he would not forget, she bent to slap his face. Blade's hand flashed up to grab her wrist before her hand struck him, and his eyes opened. He smiled at her astonishment.

  "Have a care, My Queen, you may bruise your hand on my bony face."

  "I thought you were asleep."

  "Obviously I am not."

  She stepped back, and he released her. "Obviously. But you had a great deal of wine tonight."

  "Not even enough to lighten my mood."

  Minna turned away. "Sleep then."

  "I shall try."

  The assassin slept little that night, or the four nights thereafter, since Princess Kerra's bawling woke him every few time-glasses. He plugged his ears and stuffed his head under his pillow, but nothing could block out the infant's high-pitched shrieks. By the sixth night, he was praying that the killers would come before he was driven insane. He slept during the day to recoup his loss at night, wary of becoming so tired that suspicious noises would not rouse him. His stern instructions that he not be disturbed kept all visitors away, and he barely saw Chiana during that time.

  On the sixth night, Blade snapped awake and stared at the ceiling in confusion, for silence filled the room. He strained to hear something, but even Shista's snores were absent. Focussing his hearing, he picked up the Queen's even breaths and Kerra's soft gasps, then a whisper of sound so faint that he hardly noticed it. He almost relaxed, thinking it was Shista prowling around, but a waft of alien scent made him tense again. Wood smoke, mixed with stale sweat, a smell that did not belong in the Queen's bed chamber.

  With infinite care, he sat up and opened the curtain a slit, drawing a dagger from under the mattress. The double doors were open a crack, admitting a shaft of light. A shadow moved across it, a fleeting glimpse of a shape swallowed up by the gloom. Even as he lost sight of the first assassin, a second figure momentarily filled the doorway as another man entered the room. This one stopped just inside the door, while the first crept towards the cradle.

  Blade inserted his dagger into the slit through which he peered, keeping it open while he groped for a second weapon. The intruder's form was almost invisible in the gloom, and Blade strained to make it out, aware that he could not afford to miss his target. The killer had almost reached the cradle, his footfalls silent. Blade stood slowly, hardly daring to breathe, his eyes locked on his quarry. He drew back his throwing arm, widening the gap in the curtains as he did so.