The Queen's Blade VI - Lord Protector

by T C Southwell

  Blade drained his tea and stood, packing up the camp once more.

  Chapter Eight

  Blade arrived in Jondar almost a moon after his meeting with Shamsara, riding through the crowded, dirty slums with a sense of homecoming. Whores offered their wares from doorways and windows, street urchins and pick-pockets darted through the crowds, peddlers shouted and waved their goods at passers-by. He glanced back at Embeth, who rode one of his packhorses, and looked a little overwhelmed by the city she had left behind fifteen years before. Blade's return to his estate had delighted Lilu, and she had been overjoyed when he had agreed to take Embeth to court with him. She had confined her joy to a lonion-scented hug, releasing him before he pushed her away. For the next tenday, she and Embeth had spent much of their time sewing new gowns from swathes of rich cloth she had bought with her savings, pestering Blade for details of the latest court fashions. He had quelled his urge to tell her the fops at court wore paja bird feathers on their bottoms and fen-dog fangs around their necks. Embeth had proven to be a pleasantly silent travelling companion, and saw to his needs with commendable efficiency.

  Passing through the slums around the northern gate, Blade guided his horse into the central marketplace, where merchants of every variety displayed their wares. Street sweepers struggled to clear away the endless supply of garbage, from the mounds of dung that fouled the livestock pens to the rotting vegetables that farmers discarded.

  The stench made him wish he did not need to breathe, and the crowd's noise, mingled with the cries of beasts and merchants, drowned out his thoughts. He passed through it as quickly as possible, ignoring the pleas of stall owners and the wares they thrust at him. His rich clothes and silver-edged cloak made him a popular target, and vendors crowded around his horse. Embeth stayed close to him, shaking off the plucking hands of traders who did not dare to accost Blade in the same manner.

  Leaving the market's hubbub, they rode through a middle class district and into a more affluent suburb that bordered the broad, tree-lined avenue that led to the palace. Nobility who visited the palace primarily used the avenue, and, whereas Blade had appeared rich in the marketplace, he was plainly dressed compared to the court popinjays. Embeth stared at the powdered fops and jewelled ladies in blatant fascination, earning herself and Blade a few frowns and sniffs. The difference between the rich and poor was marked, not only by their dress and manner, but by their familiars.

  In the market, few had been in evidence, since most were small, insignificant beasts, insects and birds. In the avenue, however, large animals abounded, especially dogs, birds of prey and horses. Embeth's familiar was a songbird, a mark of the lower classes, but since the Regent was a woman of doves such stigmas had become less important. Blade imagined what it would be like when Rivan walked at his side once more, experiencing a surge of pride at the prospect. Although a forest cat was not as large or dangerous as the sand cat or spotted snow cat, it was still a powerful and noble familiar.

  They arrived at the palace gates as a gilded coach was leaving, and Embeth guided her horse from its path, but Blade kept to the centre of the road. The coachman raised his whip in a half-hearted attempt to chase the assassin away, then decided against it and reined in his team. The carriage's occupants, however, took a dim view of the matter, and a powdered dandy stuck his head out of the window.

  "You there! Lout! Do you not know better than to get in the way of a member of the nobility?"

  Blade guided his horse closer to the carriage window and swept back his cloak, revealing its rich satin lining. "And who might you be, pray tell?"

  The fop swelled visibly, his starched ruff bristling. "I am Viscount Jaraba, you insolent wretch. You should be using the servant's entrance, if you have any business in the palace at all."

  Blade smiled. "Indeed I have business here. I have come to visit my wife."

  "An underling chambermaid, no doubt. That does not give you the right to use the main entrance."

  Blade reined his horse closer still. "Oh, she is a little more important than that, but I will be sure to pass on your remarks."

  A rouged woman in a feathered hat poked her head out of the rear window and raked Blade with a scornful look. "We do not care if she is a lady-in-waiting, it does not allow you to be so impertinent."

  Blade chuckled, starting to enjoy himself. "I do not need to rely on her importance to gain entrance here, madam. But do go on with your rhetoric, it is most entertaining."

  "How dare you?" the fop cried, opening the door and jumping out. "Get down, oaf, and I shall teach you some manners."

  "Will you, indeed? That would be interesting, if I had the time or inclination to allow it. Clearly you do not frequent the palace very often, or perhaps it is I who am at fault in that regard. However, right of way is dictated by rank, and I am afraid that you are in the wrong."

  The dandy reddened, and his hand dropped to the hilt of the rapier that hung on his belt. "Get down I say, before I drag you from your nag!"

  Blade laughed, patting his horse. "He might be ill bred, like you, but he is not a nag."

  Viscount Jaraba stepped forward and grabbed Blade's horse's reins, making the beast shy. "Clearly you do not have the good sense to do as you are told, dolt, but insulting a viscount is a serious offence."

  "It is you who have aired most of the insults here, and without proper introductions, too."

  "I do not care who you are. You certainly do not outrank me."

  "Indeed?" Blade chuckled again. "And since you do not know who I am, how can you be certain of that?"

  "I just have to look at you, fool!"

  "Ah. Do all nobility dress like peacocks in heat?"

  Jaraba stepped back and drew his rapier with a hiss, shouting, "That is it! My patience is at an end. Get off that beast, or I shall have the guards do it for you!"

  Blade raised a hand and beckoned to one of the gate guards. The man marched over and bowed low, but Jaraba, thinking the man was bowing to him, indicated Blade with a furious finger.

  "Drag that man from his horse, guardsman!"

  Blade smiled at the confused soldier. "Do you know me, guardsman?"

  "Yes, My Lord."

  Jaraba froze, staring at the guard, and Blade said, "Then kindly introduce me to Viscount Jaraba."

  "At once, My Lord." The soldier turned to Jaraba. "Allow me to present His Grace, High Lord Conash, Lord Protector of Jashimari, sacred Knight of the Veil, former regent and husband of Regent Chiana."

  Blade nodded. "I think that is most of my numerous titles, but I am certain that Viscount Jaraba knows the rest."

  Jaraba gaped at Blade, the rapier falling from his nerveless hand to clatter on the paving stones. A soft thud from the carriage told Blade that Jaraba's lady companion had fainted. Jaraba was made of sterner stuff, although he had turned as white as a sheet. He fell to one knee and bowed until his forehead almost touched the road, straightening slowly.

  Blade remarked, "I do not warrant a prostration, Jaraba. I am only a high lord, not the Queen."

  "My Lord. I - I did not know. I beg your forgiveness. My words were ill considered. I am stricken with embarrassment."

  "So you should be. But I have to admit I enjoyed our little encounter. Seldom have I met a man more endowed with foolish pride, who is such a complete lack wit."

  "I am mortified, My Lord. Please forgive me."

  "Next time, ask for an introduction before you challenge someone to a duel. I trust you are aware that you would have been most thoroughly humiliated, had I thought to amuse myself further at your expense?"

  Jaraba nodded. "Indeed I am, My Lord. And most grateful that you spared me the embarrassment. Anything I can do to make amends, name it."

  Blade glanced at Embeth. "I may do that, but, for the moment, you may remove your carriage from my path."

  Jaraba swung to shout at his luckless coachman, and the team of snorting, high-stepping horses drew the carriage aside. Jaraba bowed again, then rushed to climb into his
coach when Blade waved a dismissive hand. As the carriage rumbled away, Embeth guided her horse closer to Blade's.

  "I didn't think you had a sense of humour, My Lord."

  "There's much you don't know about me, girl."

  "So it seems. You enjoyed that, yet you scorn your high rank."

  He shrugged. "It means little to me, but humiliating idiots like him is always amusing. In that regard, it's quite useful."

  "And you talk different. When you're with us, you speak like we do, but when you spoke to him, your manner was more noble than his."

  "It's a talent I discovered in my youth. I have the ability to mimic any form of speech after hearing it for a short time. Queen Minna-Satu taught me court manners, since my own were, in her opinion, boorish."

  She urged her horse after him when he headed for the gates, past bowing guards.

  Blade ensured that Embeth was installed in rooms used by the lesser nobility, then sought his suite, where Arken had already prepared a hot bath. News of his arrival had spread swiftly through the palace, and he wondered how Chiana would react.

  "What does he want?" Chiana frowned at the messenger who had just delivered the news of her husband's arrival.

  The man shrugged. "He did not say, Regent. He has retired to his rooms. But there is a woman with him, who has been installed in the lower court's accommodation."

  "And who is she?"

  "That too remains a mystery, my lady."

  Chiana nodded and dismissed him before turning to gaze out at the spring garden with its newly budded, bright green leaves. Her longing to see Blade burnt like a fire in her breast, making it difficult to breathe, and she struggled to quell the urge to run to his rooms. Tears stung her eyes at the bittersweet joy of his return, mingled with an ironic resentment that he had. For fifteen years, she had longed for him to do this, and would have welcomed him joyfully, but now, when she had resolved not to see him, it only added to her heartache.

  The door burst open and Kerra entered, her eyes filled with concern. Spotting the Regent, she composed herself, brushed at her pale blue silk skirts and walked more sedately towards Chiana.

  "Are you all right?"

  Chiana forced a brittle smile. "I should be happy. I am happy, but I am also angry. Why does he come here now? After years of avoiding me, when I will not see him, he comes back."

  "Perhaps he has had a change of heart?"

  She snorted. "He does not have a heart."

  "Maybe he wants to see you."

  "I doubt that."

  "Then it must have something to do with the woman he brought with him. Who do you think she might be?"

  Chiana's smile softened. "I have no idea, but at least I know she is not his mistress. Yet I wish I did have to worry about that. Strange, is it not?"

  "No. But there is something to be said for a man who will never be unfaithful to you."

  Chiana turned away to hide the pain in her eyes. "Indeed. I once asked your mother if she did not resent the fact that he held her in no high regard, and she told me she could not, since he held no one else in high regard either. It is small consolation, however."

  Kerra joined her at the window, watching an elderly gardener planting flowers in a bed below. "Will you see him?"

  Chiana hesitated, pleating her plain black linen skirt. "If he requests it, not otherwise."

  "I shall send for him. I want to know why he is here too, and who the woman is."

  Chiana nodded. "Wait a while. He will still be in his bath."

  "I doubt Blade will hurry his bath to accommodate me." Kerra bit her lip, watching the gardener work. "What will it take, do you suppose, to earn his respect?"

  "I do not know. Your mother was the only person who seemed able to command it most of the time. Yet even she considered him impertinent and ill mannered. It is a pity you did not have the opportunity to learn from her."

  Kerra looked thoughtful. "Do you wish to see him?"

  "More than anything. But I dread it too. The way he looks at me..." She shivered and rubbed her arms. "It is like being impaled with icicles."

  Kerra put a hand on Chiana's arm, and the Regent covered it with her own, smiling as she said, "You have certainly grown up a lot since you first met him. Perhaps it is only a matter of time. One day, out of the blue, he may address you as his queen. That would be so like Blade. You just have to be patient."

  "He taught me that when we were together." She smiled. "Those memories I shall always treasure."

  Chiana sighed. "As I treasure what few memories I have with him. Love is a terrible burden when it is not returned."

  "But he said..."

  "Those words, though precious, do not compensate for his complete lack of affection. They keep me alive and give me some small measure of happiness, but I long for more. And that, my dear, I shall never receive."

  "You are resigned to that, then?"

  "What choice do I have?"

  Kerra squeezed Chiana's arm. "Perhaps he will surprise you, too."

  "I once hoped so, but now I doubt it."

  Blade was lacing his shirt, still damp and warm from his bath, when the Queen's supper invitation arrived. He donned one of his less garish suits, since his leather clothes were dirty. The short black suede jacket's sleeves and collar were picked out with silver embroidery, and his white linen shirt was tucked into trousers that bore the same pattern on the seam from waist to knee.

  Arken, who stood ready to help if required, beamed his approval when the assassin had finished and stepped forward to brush and tug, as was his habit. Blade shook him off and headed for the door, leaving the servant to tidy the room.

  When he arrived at the Queen's quarters, a handmaiden showed him into the sitting area. Kerra reclined on a mound of satin cushions, clad in a royal blue velvet gown sewn with cyan panels edged with gold thread, her hair swept up in an elaborate, pearl-sprinkled coif. Diamonds adorned her neck and sparkled on her ears and fingers. She reminded him of her mother, especially with the regal way she tilted her head and the cool smile she bestowed upon him. He smiled and sat on the cushion she indicated with a wave.

  "My Lord Conash."

  "Kerra."

  "It is good to see you again, and in good health."

  Blade waved away the tray of sweetmeats a handmaiden offered, but accepted the cup of wine the next girl brought. Kerra picked up a cup of tea from the tray before her and sipped it, studying him.

  "I know you will not ask, so I shall tell you that Chiana is well."

  "I intend to see for myself."

  "Oh? You are going to visit her?"

  "Yes."

  "For what reason?"

  He shook his head. "I do not have to explain myself to you."

  "No, but it would be polite. I am concerned for her happiness, and I do not wish her to be upset."

  "I am not going to upset her."

  "Just seeing you will upset her."

  He shrugged, sipping his wine. "I cannot be held responsible for that. It is not my intention."

  "Why have you returned to the palace?"

  "I have business here."

  "The woman you brought with you?"

  He nodded. "Amongst other things."

  "Who is she?"

  "None of your business."

  Kerra pouted, then caught herself and composed her features into the regal expression that Minna-Satu had taught her. "I suppose not."

  The assassin sipped his wine and glanced away. His eyes came to rest on Myasha, who dozed on his perch. Kerra bit into a pastry, brushing the crumbs from her chin as she studied him again.

  "My spies tell me that you have slain the Cotti assassin."

  "Yes."

  "Do you know who sent him?"

  "Dravis."

  Kerra nodded. "As I suspected. Tell me what happened."

  "I slit his throat."

  "This will be a dull evening indeed if you are not prepared to be more forthcoming, My Lord."

  He smiled and made a vi
cious, slashing gesture across his throat. "I sliced it open, like this."

  "That is not what I meant, and well you know it. How did you find him? Where did you confront him? Did the soldiers help?"

  Blade leant back as the food arrived, eyeing the Queen. The maidens laid out platters of succulent grilled fowl, roast sucking pig, spiced cray bird eggs, buttered delgreens and boiled patotals on the low table before them. He cast his gaze over the selection of delicacies, then filled his plate from those platters he liked. Kerra did the same, and found, at the end of it, that her plate was more laden than his.

  Blade gave a terse account of the Cotti assassin's demise, with disparaging remarks about the soldiers Chiana had sent. Kerra listened to his soft, husky voice while she gazed at him. To her annoyance, she felt privileged to be in his company, when it should have been the other way around. When he pushed aside his plate and sat back, wiping his mouth with a napkin, she tilted her head and smiled at him.

  "So, if you will not tell me who this woman is, will you tell me why you have brought her to court?"

  "I intend to find a position for her here."

  "What has she done to earn such a favour from you?"

  He shrugged. "Nothing."

  "Then why -"

  "It is not your concern. Prying into my business should be beneath you." Blade picked up his wine cup.

  "She is a commoner. She can only work here as a servant."

  "A certain Viscount Jaraba is now indebted to me. He will do as I wish."

  "I see. I hesitate to ask what you did to earn such favour with a noble."

  "I did not kill anyone for it."

  Kerra eyed him. "I thought you would have retired by now."

  "I intend to, soon."