His shout jolted him further from the dream-like state, and he struggled to raise his head from the hard pillow. A vista of retreating, sunlit desert greeted his drooping eyes. He flopped back, crying out again to prevent the creeping monster of lethargy from dragging him back into its midnight folds.
Slowly his head cleared, and the real world became sharper and clearer, the sounds more defined, the sensations stronger. He forced flaccid muscles to do his bidding and propped himself up on one elbow, finding that his wrists were shackled to the floor. With a growl he jerked at the chain, the flash of pain bringing him more awake.
Blade became aware of his weakness, a terrible taste in his mouth and his belly's growling emptiness. That, combined with the desert behind the wagon, told him that he had been asleep for a long time. After a while he flopped back, the effort of staying awake a futile one when he could do nothing about his situation. He allowed the drowsiness to engulf him, and slipped into a dreamless doze.
The rattle of a pot nearby woke him, and he opened his eyes. The wagon had stopped, and a scrawny, middle-aged Cotti sat on the back of it stirring a fire-blackened pot. He tasted its contents and nodded, then turned and shuffled towards the assassin. As he glanced down at Blade, the Cotti's eyes widened and he gave a yelp of surprise, retreating. Blade watched him until he vanished from sight, then closed his eyes again, drifting into a doze. Voices woke him again, one of them familiar, and he opened his eyes to find Kerrion standing over him, smiling.
"So, at last you are awake. I had almost given up hope. Olan here assured me that you would never wake up." He cast an amused glance at the Cotti servant, who ducked his head. "Probably just wishful thinking. Luckily he was wrong."
Blade jerked at one of the chains. "Let me up, you bastard."
"Humiliating, is it not? No worse than the way you treated me after you took me prisoner."
"At least I captured you while you were awake."
"True, but then I did not try to take the coward's way out."
The assassin glared at the Cotti King. "You had no reason to. You thought yourself safe in your father's camp. If you have done this because you want something from me, you will not gain it unless you let me up now."
Kerrion glanced at Olan. "Go fetch some stew for our guest. I think he needs something more solid than broth." He turned to Blade as the servant scuttled off. "What makes you think I want something from you? Perhaps I only want to punish you for your crimes."
"You would not go to so much trouble for that."
"Perhaps." Kerrion took a key from his pocket and undid the shackles that held Blade's wrists, allowing him to sit up. The assassin swayed, almost fainting from weakness and hunger, and glared at Kerrion, who went on, "Do not think I am intimidated by your threats. You have to eat, and I am not spooning it into you."
"How long have I been asleep?"
"More than four tendays. Olan has been looking after you, feeding you broth and water and tending to your wounds."
Blade eyed the shackles that bound his ankles. "Why have you done this? What do you want from me?"
Kerrion turned as Olan appeared with a bowl of stew, dismissed him and offered the bowl to Blade. "Eat, you look like you need it."
The assassin fought the urge to smash the bowl into Kerrion's face, then his hunger overcame his pride and he took it with ill grace. After eating for a few minutes under Kerrion's watchful gaze, he paused.
"You did not answer my questions."
"Nor do I intend to, yet. You will find out soon enough." He frowned. "Since you did not ask, the Queen is in good health and most concerned about you."
"I suppose she is to be your slave."
"You Jashimari all think alike. She will be treated according to her rank, and no harm will come to her."
Blade put aside the half-finished stew and rubbed his brow, fighting another bout of sleepiness. "I do not particularly care, Kerrion, but you will not get what you want from me, no matter what it is."
"Oh, I think I will. You do not strike me as a man who would enjoy prison."
Blade's head sagged, and his eyes closed despite his struggle to keep them open. Darkness washed over him in a solid wave.
Kerrion cursed as the assassin slumped, caught him before he banged his head on the floor and lowered him onto the hard pallet. Blade looked ill, his face gaunt and his eyes sunken, but that was to be expected after coming so close to death. His fine, sculpted features, which his illness had honed further, enabled him to disguise himself as a woman for difficult assassinations. This ability had earned him a reputation that named him the Invisible Assassin. The fact that he was a beardless eunuch allowed him to use the disguise to great effect, even at close quarters. His silver-grey eyes could chill a man's soul with their arctic stare, yet his smile could melt the hardest heart.
Blade's victims suspected nothing until the cold steel of his dagger pierced their hearts. His long black hair was tied with a leather thong and his leather jacket had been removed so that Olan could tend the wound in his arm, exposing the small black dagger tattoo at the base of his throat, the mark of an assassin. Kerrion marvelled that one so slight of build, although owning a whipcord strength and well defined musculature, could be so deadly. This was the man who had slain Kerrion's father and half-brother, neither of whom he mourned with particular fervour. Blade's recent assassinations for his Queen had earned him yet another title; the Queen's Blade. With a sigh, the King shackled the assassin's wrists again and pulled the blanket over him, then quit the wagon.
Returning to the carriage, he found Minna waiting with her usual impatience, annoyed by his tardiness. As soon as he closed the door, she confronted him.
"Is Blade awake? I must see him at once."
"He is asleep." Kerrion sat down. "He woke only for a few minutes, ate a little food, then passed out again."
"How was he? Is he very angry?"
"Yes, but not as angry as I had expected. He was quite calm, though he did not like being chained up. Apart from that he seemed almost normal, for him."
"What did he say?"
Kerrion shrugged. "Not much. He asked a few questions and made a few threats. I told him you were well, although he did not ask, but he was not really interested."
She looked away. "Why should he be? He does not care about me."
"So he said. Does that not anger you?"
"No, I understand him well enough in that respect, I think. I would have been surprised if he had asked after me. But I am concerned for him. Why did he fall asleep again so quickly? I did not."
"I gave him less antidote than you, perhaps that is slowing his recovery. I am sure he will come out of it soon."
"Perhaps. Then again, it may be a good thing if he does not. I would not like him to suffer at the hands of your people."
Kerrion gazed at her. "You care a lot for him, even though he is a cold-hearted bastard who does not give a damn about you."
"If he cared for others, I might find it hurtful. But he cares for no one, so I am no different from the rest. That I can accept, and yes, I am fond of him. He has served me well and earned my affection and respect." She pinned him with a sharp gaze. "How do you feel about him?"
He hesitated, caught off guard. "I respect him, certainly, even admire him a little, I suppose."
"And you like him." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to deny it. "Come now, Kerrion, there is no shame in it. He is not your enemy, though he would have you as one, for he hates all Cotti without reserve or exception. You do not need him so desperately to assassinate your enemies, you have Cotti assassins, I assume. Perhaps not as good as him, but adequate nonetheless. Yet you saved him, which you would not have done had you hated him."
"I do not hate him, but I would not go as far as to say that I like him, either."
"You do."
Kerrion laughed, throwing up his hands. "Far be it for me to argue with you. Think what you will."
"I will tell you something that may hel
p you to understand him. Much as he hates this world, for since his family died he has known little but suffering, he hates himself more. It consumes him, and because of it he has no pity, no loyalty and no love to give to anybody."
He looked puzzled. "Why do you feel the need to explain him to me?"
"Because if you are to find a way of gaining his co-operation, you will need to understand him better. Even now his attitude puzzles you. How can you hope to control him if you do not know him?"
"I will rely on you to tell me, because if you wish him well treated his collaboration is necessary."
Her eyes grew chilly. "I see. Now you blackmail me to coerce him. This does not sit well with me."
Kerrion looked down at his hands, spreading them. "No, do not think of it like that. I need your help to persuade him to protect you from those of my half-brothers who will plot to have you killed. It pains me to admit it, but I need his help. I cannot hire Cotti assassins to slay a prince, they would not do it. In time, I will weed out the dissenters amongst My Lords and advisors and persuade the rest that you can do them no harm. But until then I need you both to help me if you are to stay alive."
He pulled aside the curtain and stared out of the window. "Believe me, taking you to the desert is not something I want to do, knowing the dangers that await you there. But you left me little choice. I could not leave you in Jashimari, where you might be discovered. I have told My Lords that you are my prisoner, a prize from the Jashimari conquest, for that is what they think it is. I have to tell them that or my crown will be jeopardised, you understand?"
He glanced at her, and she nodded, frowning. Kerrion went on, "You talk of having a sand cat by the tail in keeping Blade alive and imprisoned. But I already have a far greater beast by the tail, one that could turn on me at any moment. My half-brothers still plot against me, and it may take a few of the older ones to die before the younger learn to respect me.
"This task should please your assassin immensely. He will get to kill more of Shandor's sons. I cannot have them executed when they are too sly to be caught plotting against me. I would need proof to convict them, and they will certainly ensure that I have none. They will stand by one another and back each other up, making any trial a farce, which is why Blade is so important."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "So you see, Blade's captivity is for your benefit, not my ambitions. By taking you to Jadaya I am endangering myself by giving my brothers a good reason to plot against me and gather others to their cause. If not for you they would find it very difficult to do me harm. I am making their task much easier, and I shall need a weapon against them if either of us is to survive."
"Why is my life so important to you?"
"I cannot tell you that yet. When we reach Jadaya I will explain everything, I promise."
The King rose and yanked open the carriage door, vanishing into the darkness. Minna almost went after him, then caught herself and sank back onto the cot, staring after him in puzzlement.
Chapter Fourteen
Blade woke each day for a short period on their journey through the desert, finding Olan on hand to give him food and water. The time he spent awake gradually increased, but when they arrived in Jadaya he was asleep. He woke on a bed with linen hangings, in a room built from pale yellow stone. A table and two chairs stood between him and the door, and a narrow window allowed in a shaft of hot sunlight. He sat up, eyeing it with a mixture of hope and suspicion.
Finding his wrists unshackled, he experienced a surge of elation. It seemed that his helpless state had lulled the Cotti into laxness. He rose and headed for the window, then stopped as he became aware of a stricture around one ankle, and that a jingle of chains accompanied his movement. Glancing down, he found that his ankle was shackled to the bed. With a growl of frustration, he sat down and examined the shackle's lock, wishing he still had the lock picks he kept in his belt. He was clad in a loose grey linen shirt and trousers, and he wondered what had happened to his old clothes.
The door opened and Olan entered, carrying a tray. He smiled when he spied the assassin's dour expression and placed the tray on the table before walking closer. "So, you're stupid enough to think we would leave you in your own clothes, with all the little tools you had hidden in them, eh?" He chuckled. "All the tools of your trade are gone, assassin, even the little dagger that was hidden in your boot."
Blade glared at him. "Insult me at your peril. One day you may stray within my reach, Cotti scum."
"I'm not afraid of you, murderer. You have no weapons."
"I don't need a weapon to kill a little runt like you."
Olan drew himself up. "You'll change your tune when the King orders you flogged."
"But I am not going to do that," Kerrion said from the doorway.
Olan swung around and bowed. "Pardon, Sire, I meant no disrespect."
"No, only to frighten our guest, which will not work, I assure you. You will treat him with respect in future. He is a lord in his land, and you are just a servant. You will treat him as you would a Cotti lord, Olan, is that understood?"
"But he's Jashimari, Sire."
"That is right." Kerrion walked closer. "A land my daughter will one day rule, and whose people are no longer our enemies. It may be difficult for you, but I chose you for this duty because I trust you. Do not worry, his threats are empty. He only kills when he is paid to, is that not so, Blade?"
The assassin inclined his head. "Or in self-defence. But breaking a few bones is allowed."
"Then break them if he insults you again." Kerrion sat at the table.
"If I am to be treated with such respect by your servants, why is it that I am chained like a dog?"
"Give me your word that you will not try to escape, and I will free you."
The assassin's hands clenched, and he glowered at the Cotti King. "Tell me why you have brought me here."
Kerrion looked at Olan. "Leave us." The servant scurried out, and the King gestured to the bowl of stew and goblet of wine on the tray. "Eat. Soon you will fall asleep again."
His stomach's growling drove the assassin to take the chair opposite Kerrion and pick up the spoon.
The King observed, "I am surprised by your calm acceptance of the situation. I had expected more outrage from you."
Blade spooned the meaty stew. "You do not know me."
"No, I do not. You obviously have a great deal of self-control, which is an excellent quality." Blade ignored him, and Kerrion continued, "I am sure you know why I have brought you here, since it is not to punish you. I shall be forced to imprison you, however, if you do not co-operate."
The assassin paused, his spoon raised. "You want to hire me."
"I would not have put it like that, but yes, I suppose I do."
"I do not work for Cotti."
"Our kingdoms are no longer at war. There is no need for continued animosity between us." Kerrion leant forward. "Surely you would enjoy being paid to kill more Cotti?"
"Not by you. I will not be a tool for you to use. The end of the war does not change the way I feel about Cotti any more than your servant likes to serve a Jashimari."
"I thought you were a little more intelligent than Olan."
"What does intelligence have to do with it?" Blade sipped the wine, finding it sour. "If I hate Cotti enough to want to kill them, I surely hate you too much to work for you."
"You hate everyone, so what difference does it make that I am Cotti?"
"There are degrees of hatred, and you are at the very top of my list."
"Why? I understand why you hated my father, but I have done nothing to you. In fact, I have abolished the slavery of Jashimari children in my camps, and I have had several officers flogged for the offense."
"That is supposed to make me like you?" Blade snorted. "You are the son of the man who was responsible for the death of my entire family, and my mutilation."
"You have had your revenge for that, and I do not hold it against you. We should be even, y
ou and I. My father's soldiers murdered your family, and you have slain him and my brother."
Blade banged down his goblet. "I will not argue the matter with you. The answer is no."
"Then I will have to send you to prison."
"Do it. Once they see my mark I shall be dead within the time-glass."
The King sat back, frowning. "And this does not bother you?"
"I will probably be asleep at the time."
"What if I told you that you would be sent to kill those who would murder your Queen?"
"Makes no difference."
Kerrion watched him eat, frowning. "What if your Queen gave the orders?"
"She is just your puppet now."
The King snorted. "Minna would never be a puppet. All I would do is tell her who was plotting against her. The decision to kill them would be hers, so how is that serving me?"
"Keeping her alive is serving you, since she is now your prisoner. It was her fate to die, and you have meddled in it, mine too."
Kerrion jumped up and went over to the window, leaning on the ledge to stare out. "I went to see Shamsara. I asked him if it was her fate to die, and he said no. He gave me the antidote that saved you both, and he said that much good would come of her being in Jadaya."
"Is that why you saved her? Why did you go to see him?"
"I went to ask for an antidote. You told me that she would take the Cup. You would not understand why I saved her; you are incapable of such feelings."
Blade pushed aside his empty bowl. "You are saying that you feel something for her? You love her?" He laughed with genuine amusement.
Kerrion listened with a tinge of resentment, glad that Blade could not see the reluctant smile that tugged at his lips, for the assassin's laughter was infectious.
The Queen's Blade II - Sacrifice Page 23