The Queen's Blade VI - Lord Protector

by T C Southwell

  The impact sent Blade sprawling, and Storm flung himself after the Jashimari assassin, trying to pin him down. Blade rolled aside, but Storm twisted and grabbed Blade's wrist as he tried to leap up. Blade whipped around and stabbed at Storm's chest, but Storm's up flung arm deflected the blow, and Blade sought to jerk free of the Cotti's hold. Storm hung on, knowing that he had the advantage of weight and strength.

  The viciousness with which Blade stabbed him made Storm regret his decision, however. The Jashimari assassin inflicted several shallow wounds in Storm's right forearm, which he was forced to use to defend his throat and chest. Since he had dropped one of his weapons in order to grab Blade, he had only one knife with which to try to kill the Jashimari, but he was too busy defending himself. He jerked up a knee, landing a glancing blow on Blade's hip, then rolled partly on top of his opponent, holding Blade's left wrist pinned to the ground. He grunted as Blade's dagger sank into his side, twisting his torso to prevent the weapon from penetrating too deep.

  As Blade yanked the weapon out, Storm dropped his remaining knife and punched him, jerking his head sideways. For an instant Blade's eyes lost focus, then he stabbed Storm in the hip before the Cotti could avoid it, making him recoil. Taking advantage of the momentary shifting of Storm's weight, Blade twisted free and jerked loose of Storm's hold. He rolled away as Storm lunged after him, catching hold of Blade's ankle. He kicked Storm in the face, sending him skidding away.

  They leapt to their feet, and Blade kicked Storm in the ribs as he bent to scoop up his knife. Storm staggered away, agony shooting through him from his side, face, hip and shoulder. Blade followed, but this time Storm stood his ground, drawing another curved knife. Blade feinted right, then stabbed left as Storm leapt aside, inflicting another shallow wound in his forearm. Storm lashed out at the same instant, slashing the back of Blade's wrist before he could jerk it back, then spun and leapt, his boot clipping Blade's ear as the Jashimari assassin twisted away.

  Blade used his momentum to spin closer to Storm and lunged in low, his dagger aimed at Storm's legs. The Cotti stumbled back with another wound in his thigh, Blade already out of reach once more. Storm feinted, then lunged, scoring a cut across the Jashimari's flank as Blade spun away, his dagger slicing into Storm's belly. They danced around each other, wounds appearing at every contact. The injuries were not serious, and neither could risk getting close enough to inflict a deep wound for fear of receiving one himself, but the cuts weakened them.

  Storm sprinted for the side of the inn, where a dark alley beckoned beyond the light of the torches outside the door. He reached the shadows' safety as a dagger whizzed past his head and clattered into the darkness beyond. Soft, quick footsteps behind him told him that Blade followed, intent on pressing home his advantage while Storm's wounds weakened him. Tripping over a pile of firewood stacked against the inn's wall, Storm sheathed his knives and scooped up a faggot.

  Knowing Blade would be listening to his footsteps, he turned without changing their tempo and moved back towards the front of the inn. In the darkness, he had only the sound of the Jashimari assassin's footsteps with which to locate him, but was as invisible as his opponent. Blade's footfalls stopped as he sensed Storm's approach, and Storm closed the remaining gap swiftly, then swung the faggot at the place where he judged Blade to be.

  It swished through empty air, and he stepped forward and swung it again. A movement made him leap aside, then pain exploded in the side of his neck as a dagger sank into it. Whipping around, he flailed with the faggot, but the Jashimari assassin was too elusive for such brutish tactics. With his hope that Blade would not follow him into the darkness squashed, Storm ran back into the light of the inn's torches, where he could see his opponent.

  A crowd had gathered outside the inn's door, some of its members swapping wagers on the outcome. Storm turned to face his enemy, who emerged from the gloom like a shadow. Storm gazed at the Jashimari assassin's pitiless face as he gasped clouds of steam in the frigid air. A trickle of blood oozed from Blade's nose and drew a scarlet line down his chin. His jacket's sleeves were shredded, and more blood seeped from the wound in his side, but otherwise he appeared unhurt. Blood ran down Storm's chest inside his clothes from the wound in his neck, where Blade's dagger had nicked his jugular. He pressed his hand to it to slow the bleeding, drawing his last knife from his belt. Blade remained out of reach, and Storm glared at him with a mixture of resignation and frustration, knowing that he was defeated.

  "I had you beaten."

  Blade rubbed his jaw. "Clearly you didn't, since I'm still alive."

  "I believe the tales now. Tinsharon protects you."

  The Jashimari assassin snorted. "So I've been told. If it's not him, it's bloody Shamsara."

  "You sound resentful. You wouldn't have enjoyed being at my mercy."

  "I daresay, but he has foiled a good many painless ends too. Even the one I planned myself."

  Storm shook his head. "You should have tried again and saved me the trouble."

  "Be glad my client didn't ask for a slow death for you."

  "Have you ever killed someone you knew before?"

  "I don't know you."

  "We've talked."

  Blade inclined his head. "I spoke to some of the princes I've killed."

  "Swapped a few insults, you mean."

  "Same as with you."

  "No, I thought we understood each other. We're the same kind."

  Blade's lip curled. "We were never the same kind, Cotti."

  "In some ways, no. I know what it's like to feel pity. You never will."

  "I never want to. It's a weakness."

  Blood oozed between Storm's fingers and ran down his arm, formed a pool inside his sleeve and soaked through to drip from his elbow. He swayed as a wave of dizziness washed over him. "So, are you going to try to finish me off, or just wait for me to die?"

  Blade shrugged. "If you want a quick end, throw down your knife."

  Storm forced a mirthless smile. "I'm sure you'll find my slow demise most entertaining."

  "Mostly, I'll find it tedious and cold."

  Storm swayed, his strength ebbing. The pool of blood at his feet mixed with the slush and turned the dirty snow pink. He tried to think of something to say in reply, but his mind had become sluggish and empty, and the world seemed recede. He had often wondered what it was like to die, something everyone discovered sooner or later, but had not thought that he would find out so soon. Scowling, he fought against the tide of fear that rose within him, sparking a wish to beg for his life. Unbidden, cowardly words tripped off his tongue.

  "A healer could still save me."

  "Now why would I want him to do that, when I've just gone to a lot of trouble to kill you?"

  "I don't want to die."

  Blade sighed a cloud of steam. "Few do."

  "I would leave Jashimari, never return. My mission would be a failure."

  "Are you begging for your life?"

  Storm ground his teeth, hating himself. "Yes."

  "Don't waste your breath."

  "You would have no reason to kill me if I left you alone."

  Blade took a step closer. "You disgrace assassins with this pathetic begging. It's a good thing you're Cotti."

  Storm's legs buckled, and he fell to his knees, then sank back on his haunches. Dropping the knife, he clasped the wound in his neck in a desperate, futile bid to staunch the bleeding. A strange darkness crept into his eyes, blotting out the world, and Blade's voice seemed to come from a great distance. He sensed the Jashimari assassin step forward.

  Blade watched the Cotti, annoyed by the fight's outcome. Storm's death had become a messy affair, which his cowardly pleading in front of the villagers made worse. At least now he seemed beyond it, his skin an ugly shade of greyish yellow. He swayed, then his hands fell away, letting the wound in his neck bleed. Blade stepped forward and slit his throat with a quick, efficient flick of his dagger, and Storm slumped sideways onto the icy ground.
/>   Blade glanced at the villagers, then bent and wiped his weapons on Storm's coat before returning them to their sheaths. Two had been lost in the fight, and one was stuck in the wood next to the inn's door. He walked back to the inn, the patrons parting for him, retrieved the dagger beside the door and went inside to fetch his coat.

  The walk back to the keep seemed to take forever, and by the time he reached it, he was frozen and numb with tiredness. The soldiers at the gate gaped at him when he walked in, and he wondered if the two idiots still stood outside the library door. He let himself in and went to the kitchen, where he found a bottle of wine and a cup, then sank down on a chair before the banked hearth.

  Blade intended to rest for a few minutes before tending to his injuries, but before his hands had defrosted sufficiently for him to remove his gloves, Lilu burst in, followed by two soldiers. She wore a flannel dressing gown belted around her waist, and her hair straggled from its plait. Her eyes widened when she spotted him, and she rushed to his side and studied his face.

  "You're hurt!"

  He grimaced. "Leave me alone."

  "I'll do no such thing. What happened?"

  Blade glanced up at the platoon's commander, who stood behind Lilu, frowning. "Did you wake her up?"

  "Yes, My Lord. The gate guards said you looked unwell."

  "I can tend to myself."

  "You'll do no such thing!" Lilu exclaimed. "Let me see."

  Lilu lighted lamps, muttering under her breath. Blade groaned when she pulled his coat off his shoulders and tugged his arms from the sleeves. Dried blood glued his arms to his jacket, and she gasped at the sight of his shredded sleeves. Lilu ordered the commander to summon Embeth, and Blade glowered at her while she unlaced his jacket.

  By the time she had removed it and his shirt, Embeth arrived in her dressing gown, and Lilu told her to boil a pot of water. While the girl stoked the fire and fed it wood, Lilu unbuckled the loaded wrist sheaths. They had protected his forearms a little, but they were still covered in shallow cuts. Lilu clucked as she examined the cuts and the deeper wound in his biceps, her brow puckered with concern.

  "Is the Cotti dead?"

  "Yes." Blade glanced at the stony-faced commander. "Which means you and your men can leave, Commander."

  "I have orders -"

  "To protect me from the Cotti assassin, who is now dead."

  "Nevertheless..." The young officer flinched at the anger in Blade's eyes, and finished lamely, "When weather permits, My Lord."

  Blade hissed as Lilu cleaned the wound in his biceps. "You're not swabbing a floor, woman!"

  "Oh do be quiet, Blade, you're such a damned baby."

  Blade glared at the commander. "Is there a reason for your continued presence, Commander? This is not a spectator sport, you know."

  The man bowed and withdrew. The assassin poured cups of wine and drained them, trying to dull the pain. Embeth boiled cloths and thread while Lilu tackled her unwilling patient, ignoring his hisses and grunts as she washed away the dried blood and cleaned the wounds. The gash in his flank necessitated the removal of his leather vest, and Lilu knelt beside him to clean the wound, letting her hands linger a little longer than necessary.

  Blade glared at her, but she merely smiled at his discomfort and commented, "I'd forgotten what a prude you are."

  "I'm unused to being handled, as you should know."

  "Even by your wife?"

  "She had the good sense not to try."

  "I guess she didn't want to risk having her hands chopped off."

  Blade smiled despite himself, then grimaced and groaned when Lilu wiped dried blood from the wound. "Your doctoring skills haven't improved over the years. You still do it like you scrub pots."

  "I have to get all the dirt out." She rinsed the bloody rag in a pot of water.

  Blade's arm jerked as he quelled instinctive reactions to the pain when she rubbed the wound again, and Embeth flinched. He eyed the girl, who stood behind her mother, biting her lip.

  "What's the matter with you, girl? I'm the one who's being tortured, yet you're the one who's jumping."

  She lowered her gaze. "I'm just glad it's not me who has to tend your wounds."

  "Oh? And why is that?"

  "Because you're a dangerous man, My Lord."

  "Am I, indeed?" Blade smiled and looked at Lilu. "She thinks you're taking your life in your hands by torturing me. Perhaps you should be more careful."

  Lilu grunted. "I seem to remember going through that stage myself, a long time ago."

  "Ah, yes, you did. When I first woke up I thought you were rabbit kin. You looked so frightened."

  "I was frightened. I knew nothing about assassins, only street tales, and they weren't reassuring. Even though you had no daggers and were so weak, I was afraid of you."

  Blade nodded. "That's right, you tied my hands to the bed when I lost consciousness again. I didn't appreciate that."

  Lilu giggled. "You were furious. You thought I was planning to torture you or something."

  "You did torture me." He grimaced as she washed the wound in his side. "Like you're doing now."

  "So what happened?" Embeth demanded.

  Blade glanced at Lilu, who smiled and said, "He told me in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't waste his energy hurting me, and that he had never harmed a woman in his life."

  "And you believed him?"

  "Oh, it wasn't his words that convinced me, it was the way he said it."

  "And how was that?"

  "With the utmost scorn."

  Embeth eyed the assassin. "You wouldn't harm a woman?"

  "No," Lilu snapped.

  Blade smiled. "Not unless I was paid to assassinate one."

  "Rubbish!" Lilu reproached him. "You wouldn't do it. I know you, Blade."

  His brows shot up. "Indeed? How can you be so sure of that?"

  Lilu shrugged and rose to her feet. "I just am. Pass me the thread and needle, Embeth."

  "I'd like to know the reason for your faith, Ma," Embeth remarked as she picked up the needle and thread and handed them to her mother.

  "Yes, so would I," Blade commented.

  Lilu smiled at him. "Because you're too noble to stoop to such things."

  "He's a killer!" Embeth exclaimed.

  Blade inclined his head. "Thank you."

  "I'm not denying that." Lilu chuckled. "But you're not the kind of man who hurts women. Only cowards do that, because they're afraid to hurt a man. It makes them feel powerful to harm one who's weaker than them. But you..." Lilu tilted her head and smiled. "You're no coward. You have nothing to prove, do you?"

  "No, but why should that stop me from assassinating one?"

  "I don't know. I just don't think you would want to."

  Blade shook his head and smiled. "I've never been paid to, but I don't see why I wouldn't."

  She hurled the cloth into the basin, splashing water over the table. "Maybe one day you'll find out. But that wasn't the issue, was it? Embeth thought you'd lash out at me for hurting you, and that, you'd never do."

  "No," he agreed. "Not unless you were doing it deliberately."

  "How do you feel when you kill someone?" Embeth enquired.

  "Embeth!" Lilu swung to glare at her daughter. "That's an impertinent question."

  Blade shrugged. "Nothing really. It's just a job."

  "You've never pitied anyone?"

  "No."

  "Not even if they begged for mercy?"

  He shook his head. "Few get the opportunity, but it makes no difference to me. Their deaths have been paid for, so I would be a poor assassin if I let them live."

  Lilu frowned as she threaded the needle. "Your Cotti assassin put up a good fight. Getting sloppy in your old age?"

  A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "Usually, when two assassins fight, both die. That's why it's forbidden, unless they're foreign."

  "What about a child?" Embeth asked. "Would you kill one?"

  Lilu shot the girl a hard look, th
en turned to Blade.

  He sighed. "If you count pubescent boys, I already have."

  "But you saved the infant queen, which almost cost you your life," Lilu pointed out.

  Blade looked away. "Are you going to tend my wounds or interrogate me all night?"

  The women raised their brows, and Embeth commented, "Strange that you don't want to talk about that."

  "Strange that you should be so damned curious," he shot back, glaring at the girl, then jumped and yelped as Lilu stuck the needle into the wound in his biceps. She pulled the thread through and tied it. Embeth turned away to stoke the fire, and the remainder of their work was achieved in silence, apart from Blade's grunts and hisses.

  Blade had emptied the wine bottle before he started to feel a little numb, by which time the worst was over. When Lilu was finished, he stood and pulled on his shirt, swaying a little. Embeth emptied the bowls of bloody water while Lilu packed away the remainder of the bandages. Blade walked to the door, where he turned, frowning.

  "There were two reasons why I saved Queen Kerra. One was to prevent Minna-Satu's sacrifice and all my work from being in vain, and the other was that I was badly injured, and I wanted to die. Does that answer your question, girl?"

  Embeth turned from her chore and nodded, looking a little embarrassed.

  Blade's mouth twitched in a tiny smile. "Good."

  Chapter Seven

  Blade gazed across the frosty landscape, steam rising from the cup of tea he had just prepared over the campfire. Although spring had come and a fur of greenness covered the land, patches of snow lingered in the shade of the forest trees, and the nights were cold. Camping in the woods was an onerous ordeal, one he entered into with deep dislike and endured with ill temper. His horse snorted and scraped at the snow, uncovering a little grass to nibble. Blade tugged his coat more closely around his neck and huddled into it, preserving the warmth that remained from his bedroll. With every day he spent in the wilderness, his longing for the comforts of the city increased and his temper frayed further.

  Blade had left the keep at the first spring thaw, soon after the company of soldiers had departed for Jondar. Lilu had been disappointed that he was not returning to the palace with Embeth under his wing, but he had made no promises in that regard. He had a more pressing goal now, one he had waited for all winter, and had saved Minna-Satu to earn. Not that he regretted saving his former queen, that in itself had been a reward, but not the reason he had done it.