The Queen's Blade II - Sacrifice

by T C Southwell

  "I have. I took your advice and challenged him to a drinking contest, then a duel of dagger-throwing. It went well, and when I won the drinking contest and he passed out, I spent the night at his side."

  Minna laughed, clapping her hands in delight. "How clever of you. Tell me more. How did you manage to outdrink him?"

  "I cheated. He was already drunk when I found him, but he accepted my challenge, and I poured most of my wine onto the floor when he was not looking."

  "And then you slept with him. Marvellous! Was he furious?"

  Chiana smiled. "He accepted his defeat gracefully, My Queen. He even gave me his memoirs."

  Minna sank down on a pile of cushions. "I am no authority on men, but do you think it possible that he likes you even more than I thought?"

  "I would like to think so, although it may not be true."

  "Yes, it must be a comfort to you. Still, you have the memory to treasure now."

  The distant sound of a lone horn made them stiffen. The mournful, winding note drifted in through the window like a herald of doom. Minna-Satu turned deathly pale, her breath catching in a gasp. Springing up, she dashed to the cot and picked up her daughter, hugging the child. Chiana's throat closed around a lump of sorrow, and she found no words to comfort the Queen.

  A knock on the door made them turn, and Captain Redgard entered at Minna's invitation, prostrating himself. More horns took up the dirge outside, the alarm spreading into the city and to the palace.

  "Get up, Captain Redgard," Minna ordered. "I know the news you bear. Kerrion has been sighted. Send the High Priestess to me."

  "At once, My Queen."

  Captain Redgard marched out, and Minna wandered over to the window to stare out at the bright spring day. For the last time, she allowed her gaze to roam the gardens' verdant splendour, where lyric birds sang in the firetrees and humming birds droned amongst the blooms, sipping nectar. She had enjoyed the view all her life, and now savoured it with great sadness. A group of puffwood trees put out their first vivid yellow leaves in spherical clumps on their twisted branches.

  The pale mauve flowers, now buds, would turn into the green puffballs that exploded in late summer with soft popping sounds, releasing clouds of fluffy seeds to be borne away on the wind. Beyond them, a smoketree stood, its delicate grey foliage dotted with tiny pink flowers. A flock of red and green feyrens gathered on the branches of a firetree, whose scarlet leaves gave off a sweet perfume that drew many birds to enjoy the nectar of its large yellow flowers.

  Minna gave a shuddering sigh, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Above the temple, the dark streamers of dream silk flew in the slight breeze, slithering and snapping. The strip of green had been taken down with the waning of the Tree Moon, leaving only the colours of death, blood and mourning, suitable for the newly risen Death Moon that now glared down balefully each night. Some said that a Death Moon was a good time to die, for Tinsharon would expect a flood of new arrivals into the Everlasting. She shivered and swallowed hard, blinking the tears from her eyes. Princess Kerra gurgled, waving chubby arms, and Minna smiled down at her.

  "Farewell, my daughter. Rule wisely and be happy."

  Chiana turned away as the Queen pulled a cord to summon a handmaiden, handing the child to her with a parting kiss. The girl wept as she carried the Princess away.

  Minna's voice made Chiana face her again, although she could not bear to look at the doomed Queen, and kept her eyes on the floor.

  "Chiana. You will stay with Kerra in the throne room. I have ordered the guards to allow no one entry but Kerrion. He must see his daughter so he will know that she is his. Shista will be shut in the room next to the bier room. When she senses my demise she will become maddened and dangerous. You must keep her in that room until after I am dead, then she will return to the desert."

  Chiana nodded, unable to speak, and glanced at the sand cat who lay by the window, her eyes wide. Shista sensed that something was amiss, the tension in the air communicated its warning to her, though as yet she could find no enemy.

  A knock came at the door, and the High Priestess entered with two maidens, one of whom bore a golden cup. Shista rose and padded over to sniff their skirts, her ears twitching. The old woman bowed and approached the Queen, ignoring the prowling cat.

  "Are you ready, My Queen?"

  "I am. Let us proceed."

  Minna walked to the door, followed by Shista and Chiana, then the High Priestess and her maidens. Outside, four honour guards fell in behind them, clad in their finest tunics and armoured in gold, white plumes in their helms. Two handmaidens walked ahead of the little procession, scattering sweet-scented fray flowers in the Queen's path as Minna traversed the long hall towards the room where she was to die, her head held high. Tears ran down the maidens' cheeks, and many servants, lords, ladies and advisors lined the way, their faces twisted with grief. Some wept openly and threw flowers into the Queen's path.

  Minna-Satu paused several times to give words of comfort to her stricken people, allowing them to kneel and kiss the hem of her burial gown. Her bare feet trod a path of flowers and tears, her expression calm but rigid, her eyes fixed on the embossed gold doors at the end of the pillared hall. Shista padded beside the Queen, her eyes spitting green fire and a low growl rumbling in her throat.

  The distant horns continued to sound the warning in wailing notes that drifted on the calm air. A dirge for a Queen, a city and a kingdom all poised on the keen edge of fate. Minna-Satu paused before the bier room's doors and turned to gaze one last time at her loyal subjects, raising a hand in a brief gesture of farewell. A great wail went up from them, a sorrowful lament that echoed through the palace and brought fresh tears to Chiana's eyes.

  Two guardsmen pushed open the doors, and Minna entered the bier room. The white marble room was bare save for a silken banner emblazoned with the Queen's crest that hung on the far wall, and a waist-high plinth cushioned with white satin. The plinth was just long and wide enough to accommodate a person lying upon it. Shista prowled around it, sniffing. The room had no windows, but many torches and candles filled it with soft golden light. The honour guards remained outside, closing the doors behind the women. Minna stopped beside the plinth and turned to face the High Priestess. The old woman raised her hands in blessing.

  "God grant you peace in the Everlasting, My Queen. Embrace with joy this passage into paradise, your reward awaits you there." She turned and took the cup from the girl who stood behind her, holding it out to the Queen.

  Shista spat, glaring at the High Priestess as she imposed herself between them. She growled, a deep, alarming sound that made Chiana's neck hairs prickle. The sand cat's tail lashed, and she tensed, ready to spring. The High Priestess froze.

  Minna fell to her knees beside the cat and flung her arms around her neck, burying her face in the soft fur. She hugged her, murmuring in a broken voice, "I am sorry, Shista, forgive me."

  The cat snarled again, and her black lips drew back to reveal long white fangs as she glared at the High Priestess, then she turned and licked the Queen's cheek with a rasping tongue. Minna clung to her, fighting to control her grief as her tears overflowed onto the cat's sleek coat. No one moved while the two communed as only a person and his or her familiar could, sharing their feelings and thoughts.

  The sand cat spat again, her snarl rising to a banshee wail that filled the room with its eerie threat. Chiana had never heard the cat do anything but purr, and stood stunned beside the High Priestess, who was the object of Shista's ire. The sand cat raised a paw and lashed out, her unsheathed claws clicking against the floor. The High Priestess' sallow skin paled, and she stepped back. Minna hung onto the feline, whispering to her in a choked, soothing voice. Shista wailed again, her cry rising to a scream that pierced the ears, filled with rage and sorrow.

  The Queen straightened and gripped Shista's scruff, dragging her towards a door at the back of the room. The sand cat struggled, sliding on the marble floor, her eyes fixed on the High
Priestess as she continued to spit and snarl. Shista's ears were flattened and her jewel-like eyes blazed with pure hatred, reminding Chiana of Blade's cold gaze. Minna struggled to drag the cat, who outweighed her vastly, but slowly succeeded in pulling her to the door.

  Shista wailed, lashing out with razor-tipped paws in the High Priestess' direction. No one dared to help the Queen, she alone could handle the enraged cat with impunity. At last she reached the door and opened it, pushed the cat into the other room and closed the door again. Shista's rage continued to fill the air as her banshee screams came through the door.

  The Queen returned to the dais, brushing back her wild hair, her pale face drawn and her eyes haunted. Chiana knew that no matter what regrets Minna had about dying, Shista's raw grief must be pure anguish for her to bear. The powerful bond between them meant that they shared each other's emotions, and the stronger those were the more painful they were to endure. Minna's eyes reflected Shista's pain, and even a trace of her rage, burning like sapphires lighted from within. She took the cup from the pale old woman and set it upon the plinth. The High Priestess swallowed hard and cleared her throat, raising her voice to be heard above the sand cat's screams.

  "Who will stay with you, My Queen?"

  "The Lord Protector of Jashimari, Lord Conash."

  The High Priestess inclined her head. "Is he summoned?"

  "He will be here shortly."

  The old woman made the sign of the blessing again. "Go with God, My Queen, certain in the knowledge that he will welcome you into the Everlasting. Find ye peace there, you who have been a traveller in this life. Let Tinsharon embrace you in his infinite forgiveness, now, at this, the time of your death. I absolve you of all wrongdoing, in the name of God." The High Priestess traced the sign of the blessing on the Queen's forehead. "Go in peace, Queen Minna-Satu."

  Minna bowed her head, and the High Priestess left, followed by her maidens. The guards closed the door behind them, and Chiana found herself alone with the Queen. Minna stared at the doors with dull eyes, and Shista's wails stopped, plunging the room into silence that only the distant horns, muted by the thick walls, broke. The Queen went to the other door and opened it, allowing Shista back in. The cat prowled around the room, growling and sniffing. Chiana watched her.

  "How did Shista know that the cup is poison?"

  "She read the priestess' mind, of course, and saw my death there." Minna sighed, looking despondent. "I did warn her not to think of it, but she could not help it, I suppose. My mother's familiar was confined to a glass box when she took the Cup, and he died a few time-glasses after her, for he had already lived too long. Shista is young; she will live many more years alone."

  "She will return to the desert, perhaps find a mate and have cubs."

  "Yes. At least she may have a better life when I am gone."

  Chiana knew that Minna needed the small comfort of that lie. "Where is Blade?"

  Minna frowned. "On his way I hope." The Queen lifted the golden cup and gazed at its contents.

  Chiana glimpsed the clear, fizzing liquid it held, mist rising from it, and gasped in surprise. "The sacred water?"

  "Yes. Strange, is it not? But perhaps fitting that it should be the path to the Everlasting."

  "Is it time?"

  Minna put the cup down as if it had become red hot. "No, not yet."

  Chiana jumped as the guards thrust open the doors, and one announced, "Lord Conash."

  Blade strode in, looking composed but grim. Minna's brows rose at his attire, and Chiana stared at him in surprise. He wore his leather garb with its silver mail, and he bristled with daggers. She counted seven, although he probably had more. He stopped before the Queen and bowed.

  "My Queen."

  "My Lord, who do you plan to kill?"

  He shrugged. "Maybe no one."

  "I hope not." She glanced down at his feet, and Chiana followed her gaze, receiving another surprise. Three inches of steel protruded from the toes of his boots, attached to metal pieces strapped to the soles. "Then why all the daggers, and these?" Minna asked.

  "Just in case."

  "In case of what?"

  He frowned, shifting under her gaze as if reluctant to give his reasons. "I had thought that you would not wish to be disturbed."

  "There are guards outside."

  "You have ordered your men not to fight."

  The Queen looked pensive. "I have ordered them to allow no one in but Kerrion, should he choose to come. If the Cotti are so uncouth as to fight their way in here, I shall be oblivious by the time they reach this room."

  "But should they do so, they will face me."

  "You just want to kill more Cotti, Blade, is that not the truth?"

  He smiled. "It is."

  "Then you do not plan to take the Cup when I do."

  "No. I will wait for Kerrion."

  "Ah. I see." Minna sighed, shaking her head. "You wish to have one last triumph, to see his face when you deny him your life."

  "Exactly."

  "Very well then, but do not harm him."

  "No, My Queen."

  Minna contemplated his blade-tipped feet again. "You are a fighter, are you not? When you denied it, you lied to me, is that not the truth?"

  Blade inclined his head, his smile fading. "I have the skills of my training, My Queen, but I do not claim to be a mighty warrior. Put a sword in my hand and I am at a loss for what to do with it. Assassins are not trained for combat, but only to defend themselves, for they have many enemies."

  "Then why did you not kill the men who abducted you after you assassinated Mordon?"

  "They took me by surprise, and they were not trying to kill me, but I did my best to escape. I am not invincible, especially when set upon by four large thugs in a dark alley. This time I am prepared, and some Cotti will die before I take the Cup."

  "What if they take you prisoner?"

  He shook his head, smiling. "I will not allow that."

  "And when you were beaten almost to death, My Lord, why did you not defend yourself then?"

  "I was struck from behind at the outset, and there were many of them. I was dazed and confused, set upon by twelve men, all armed with cudgels." He looked away. "I was also drunk at the time... as I was the last time too."

  Minna smiled at his embarrassed admission. "I see. And these blades on your feet are to cut men's throats?"

  "Yes."

  Chiana was struck by a sudden realisation. "The Dance of Death. It is not merely for show, is it?"

  "No." He hesitated, then glanced at the Queen. "The Dance originates from an assassin who was attacked by a number of thugs, centuries ago. So outnumbered was he that he was forced to use all the weapons that he had, including his feet. He survived and started the Dance of Death, placing blades on his feet to make it more deadly. Originally the Dance was a duel to the death between two assassins, but so many were killed that it was forbidden, and it became merely a test of skill and strength."

  "I have heard that this Dance of yours is a wonder to behold, My Lord. Would you show me a few steps?"

  Blade looked uncomfortable. "I am not a performer, My Queen."

  "I did not suggest that you were. In these, my last time-glasses of life, may I not have the privilege of seeing your secret dance? As my last request?"

  He shook his head with a rueful smile, sighing. "How can I refuse, when you ask like that?" He pulled the four daggers from his belt and placed them on the plinth. "Lest I stab myself."

  The Queen watched with great interest as he walked a few paces away and took up a stance. He tapped one foot slowly, pondering the blade that tipped it, then shot a wry glance at her. "I have never done this with blades on. I hope I do not do myself injury."

  Minna smiled. "As do I, Lord Conash. But if you plan to use them against the Cotti, perhaps it is well that you practice first."

  "It is not quite the same thing. I have practised fighting with boot-blades, naturally."

  Blade increased the temp
o of his tapping, speeding it up into a buzz of sound, then leapt high and clicked his heels behind him in mid-air before starting a series of fast steps, the brittle rattle of his feet blending into a simple tune. Leaping again, he flicked his legs up behind him and tapped his feet together at the apex of his jump, then took a few strides and leapt yet again, this time lifting his legs before him to strike his boots together as one leg ascended and the other dropped to the ground. A flash of sparks shot from his boots as the metal pieces clashed, and he seemed to float in the air, as graceful as a leaping deer.

  Blade repeated it twice more, his arms outstretched, his actions flowing, certain and precise, his hands tracing throwing motions that would hurl daggers at his foes. Long years of practice lent him an unrivalled ability to time and measure his leaps with a precision that defied the imagination. The flexibility that he displayed at the height of his leaps appeared impossible, yet he achieved with ease that to which other men could not hope to aspire. Each jump was in keeping with the ever-changing tempo of the Dance, which varied from the slow taps when he leapt to the swift buzz of his feet when he kept them on the ground. He ended the Dance with a final leap and stamp, facing the Queen. He panted a little, and smiled when she clapped.

  "Amazing, My Lord, truly amazing."

  The assassin bowed his head, then walked back to the plinth to retrieve his daggers, slipping them into his belt. As he did so, Chiana became aware of the silence outside. The horns had stopped, and the absence of their mournful threnody left a tense shush behind. The city seemed to crouch like a waiting beast, a fearful, angry monster, trapped but unbeaten, longing to fight but unable to.

  Minna-Satu's smile faded, and she turned to Chiana. "It is time. Go to the Princess. See to her."

  Chiana bowed, and as she straightened the Queen stepped forward and embraced her. "God be with you."

  Chiana blinked, struggling not to cry as she turned to her husband. He stared into space, apparently oblivious to her attention. She went to him and flung her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to kiss him on the lips. Blade jerked in surprise, but she released him before he could react further and headed for the door. There she paused to look back.